A/N: Ah, another 'filler' chapter. I decided on a bit of character development before moving the story onto a bigger plot point. I really like this chapter for some reason. Well, for one, you get a peek inside Xel's past...just a peek, mind you! You also start to get a slight idea of what happened between Xel and Filia before, but I'm not letting the cat out of the bag yet! Just wait...be patient with me! ^_^ At any rate, sorry for the sloooowwww updates, and enjoy the chapter. Cheers!

Chapter 9 – Waiting

The minutes seemed to crawl by for Filia, whose minutes stretched into hours, hours into days, and the days eventually into one week after her visit to London and Mr. Gordon's antique shop. She felt as though she would go mad if she had to wait one more second to hear the news of how well her pottery sold…but she ended up waiting a lot of seconds, and still she maintained at least most of her sanity. The rest of the household, however, could not say the same about their own.

Val had quickly learned to stay out of her way, for once deciding to help Jacob and George with their many, many chores and odd jobs around the house, most of which they made up as they went along simply to keep themselves busy. All three of them made good use of going around outside of the house watering all of Filia's numerous plants and flowers, even though they hardly needed watered with all of the rain they had been having recently.

The resident ghost, now referred to as 'The Fraud', after spilling his little secret, had not said much at all. In fact he had been rather quiet, and unobtrusive, as well, preferring to try blending in with the wall paint instead of trying to aggravate her even more, which would have likely been impossible at that point. He had tried talking to Filia once, and had proceeded to have his head verbally ripped from his shoulders. After that, he decided that it wasn't as fun picking on Filia when she was a complete and total nervous wreck, even if she was magnificently beautiful when she was angry. Still, he was willing to try again.

Filia had paced a small rift into her bedroom floor, pausing once in a while by the window to look out at the sea, where she would become calm for a few moments, and then resume pacing. She was, at the moment, standing by the window, holding the newest demand for rent payment in her hands. Basically her fate rested in how well her pottery sold, and she had never felt so nervous in her life; her stomach was doing flips, and her head felt like it would explode. She knew that she was driving her household mad, but she honestly felt that there was nothing she could do. Never before had she been so on edge…so ready to burst.

She didn't think she, or her family, could take much more of this.

"It's a lovely day, wouldn't you agree?" a familiar voice spoke from the corner of the room.

Filia gritted her teeth. "What do you want?"

"Tsk, tsk, Filia, I only asked a simple, harmless question. You know, you're going a little overboard, here. It will work out. Why lose your health by worrying so much?"

"Since when do you care about my health?" she asked, a little surprised by this behavior of his.

He shrugged, seeming to be indifferent. "It's not so much that I care about your health," he said. "But we can't have you dying, now can we? Then I would be stuck with you for eternity, and I'm not so sure I could handle that. Too much excitement."

She frowned. "I'm truly not in the mood for your joking. If you have no words of encouragement, then just let me be alone."

He frowned. "I was encouraging you…or so I thought."

"Hah! Encouraging me to do what? Attack you? Slap you again?"

He grinned. "Now that sounds like an idea."

She gritted her teeth again and gave him the Look of Death. "If I wasn't so sure that you'd probably enjoy it, I would thoroughly love to."

"Oh come now, Filia…so what if I would enjoy it? It would make you feel better, wouldn't it?"

"That's not the point!"

"Of course it is. You're happiest when you're angry and throwing fits, and you know it."

"I am not!"

"Are too."

"I AM NOT!!!" At this point Filia's eyes were taking on all the characteristics of a blazing fire.

"Oh? Would you rather be worrying about your pottery, then?"

Filia stopped, her reply cut short. She had forgotten about it completely, in just those few short seconds. She felt her cheeks burn, and turned away. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she sighed.

He laughed. "See? I can make you forget anything."

"Oh, bother," she sighed. "Why don't you make me forget that you even exist?"

If she didn't know any better, she thought she saw him visibly flinch. But it was a fleeting moment, and his mouth erased any brief doubts in her mind. "Touché. Such harsh words. You'd be bored without me, you know. Bored, and might I add, dreadfully boring, as well."

"Oh yes, I can see how much more exciting my life is with you around. Let me raise a toast."

"Sarcasm truly does not become you."

"And you wear it on your shirt like a very rancid cologne. The stench is overpowering, I might add."

"Not as overpowering as your charm, my dear."

At this point, Filia had reached for the nearest blunt object she could find; which was a small China vase her grandmother had given her long ago. In the next moment, it was flung across the room with as much force as she could put into it, and not surprisingly smashed against the wall where he had been standing just a split-second ago.

"I'VE HAD IT!!!" she screamed. "Why will you not let me be!!?? Why do you insist on giving me such grief? Why? WHY??!!!"

With an anguished cry, she collapsed in a heap onto the floor, where the tears rolled down her cheeks and she tried desperately to cover her sobs with her hands. She failed miserably. It seemed as though the anger, the frustration, the anxiety, everything that had been building up inside of her, was poured into those tears and those sobs, and she felt as though if she cried anymore, she would break into pieces. But she could not stop. The harder she tried to stop crying, the harder she cried.

He stood a few feet away, watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. In truth, he hadn't been trying to upset her; it just came naturally. He had wanted to make her forget about her worries, but instead had succeeded in making her cry. Ten points for him. Take the cup; you're a winner.

The old Xelloss would not have cared. He tried to tell himself that he didn't care now, and never would care; after all, if Beastmaster could see him now, how disappointed in him she would be! Getting a little uncomfortable over just a few tears? Surely not! You're slipping, old boy. Slipping fast. Get yourself together! This is not the character of a hardened killer, a warrior for evil, and a slave to the darkness.

He sighed inwardly, and shook his head. No…perhaps she wouldn't say that to him now. If she could see him now, she would realize that he wasn't the same Xelloss anymore, no matter how hard he might have tried to hang onto that part of himself. He had lost that battle centuries ago. He wasn't exactly a slave to the darkness anymore, nor was he a warrior for evil. He had not seen his master in over seven hundred years. For all he knew, she was dead, having disappeared without a trace. The Mazoku race was gone, and by some chance of fate unknown to him, he had been left behind. It used to anger him beyond all reason that he had not disappeared as well. Why had he been left behind, when he deserved to be with his kind, wherever they were? Why had Fate chosen to let him stay in this world, alone and with no purpose?

Perhaps it was because of all the times he had played Fate. Toyed with it. Played the deciding factor in the destruction of people's lives. Perhaps it was because of this that Fate had decided to let him spend eternity on this planet, alone, to be reminded of the days when he had everything, and now he had nothing. He was, in short, nothing but a shadow of his former self. A shadow…a reflection…an image. An image of nothing.

But Filia, who by all means did not deserve to remember those days at all, still saw, on some occasions, the reflection for what he truly was. Even if she didn't understand it, there were times he knew that some part of her spirit…the deepest, darkest parts of her mind and soul…remembered him for what he had been. In some ways it was refreshing. In other ways, it was not. It was dangerous for her to remember anything at all, because he knew that if her memory returned, it would be disastrous. At the same time, he could not help the way he acted around her. It was too much like old times; and she was ever so much fun to torment. It made him feel alive, almost. It made him feel as though some shred of purpose had returned to his existence, and that was, in itself, refreshing.

But his master would be dreadfully disappointed in him. He had come to realize that what was most refreshing to him was that Filia seemed to accept him. Despite the fact that he annoyed her and did his best to torment her, she had truly accepted him for who and what he was. He had not expected her to; after all, despite certain events in their past and changes in their relationship, back in those days, she really had never accepted him. And, in some way, he had never accepted her. Things had just been too difficult for both of them, and in the end it had resulted in unavoidable tragedy.

Could things be different now? He could not dare to hope. After all, he was still a 'ghost' to her, even if he had told her at least some of the truth that he wasn't really a ghost in that sense.

The renewed sound of her sobbing brought him back to his senses, and he flinched with each muffled, shark intake of her breath between sobs. Finally, he knelt down beside of her and did what he never could do back then; wrapped his arms around her, and brought her head to lie against his chest. He expected her to pull away and slap him, but was shocked to find her responding by flinging her arms around his waist and burying her face into the cloth of his shirt. His eyes opened wide, and he could only stare at her golden mane of hair, which was slowly coming undone from its neat bun and spilling over her shoulders in a frazzled, messy heap.

"Come now, Filia," he said in his most soothing voice, which really wasn't all that soothing in his opinion. He stopped at that, not knowing what else to say.

Finally her sobbing ceased into an occasional sniffle, but her grip on his waist did not loosen. "I hate you," she whispered, though it took him a moment to understand as her face was still buried in his shirt.

He chuckled. "I know you do."

"And you hate me."

"No."

"You do."

"Of course not."

"Then why do you act like you do?"

"I only tease you. I did not intend to upset you so badly."

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

He hesitated. "No, I suppose I don't."

Filia leaned back a little to look up at him, regarding him carefully for several moments. There was something in her expression that made him a little uncomfortable, but he did not look away…or rather, could not look away.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm only wondering," she replied. "Why it is you are so difficult to understand."

"It is the way I am," he said. "I can't claim to understand myself, either."

She smiled, then, after which he felt something lurch inside of him, and why, exactly, did Filia's lips look so inviting?

It was at this point that he was all at once annoyed and grateful that the doorbell started ringing downstairs. A second later, Filia jumped to her feet and was running out of the bedroom door, leaving him still sitting on the floor in a dazed state. He sighed, and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Filia's heart was pounding faster than she would have thought possible, and tried to tell herself she was only anxious about getting a letter from Mr. Gordon…certainly not because of how close those violet eyes had been to her own blue ones…and how she had been so sure that he had been about to kiss her…no, not at all. She did her best to straighten her hair, and finally gave up before she reached the front door. Taking a deep breath, she flung it open.

"Letter for Ms. Ul Copt," the mail carrier said, before she could say anything. He winked. She blushed, and said a polite 'thank-you' as she closed the door. The mail carrier was startled to hear a loud scream of delight as he walked away, and smiled.

"It came!" she cried, rushing into the kitchen where George and Jacob had started dinner.

"Aw, 'dat's awfully good to hear, Miss Filia," Jacob said, inwardly thanking the Heavens above for saving him.

Filia sat down and read aloud: "Dear Ms. Ul copt. I am pleased to inform you that your pottery has sold like clockwork. We have had several requests for more, and would be honored if you would bring us another supply this coming week. Enclosed is a cheque for 200 pounds. We hope to see you soon. Sincerely, Mr. Gordon."

Filia was beyond ecstatic. "Finally, I can pay off the rent! We're staying!" She gushed about this for several more minutes before rushing upstairs to find the one that she needed to thank. She walked in to find him lounging on the window's ledge, one foot dangling onto the floor, the other propped up against the wall. He gave her a short smile.

"Congratulations, Filia," he said.

"Thank you," she replied. "Thank you…for everything."

He waved his hand in dismissal. "No need to thank me, my dear."

"No, really, I want to thank you. You've done so much for me. I'm…sorry I said those things earlier."

He laughed. "Apologies do not become you, either."

She bristled. "I'm trying to be nice!"

"For what reason, may I ask? Because I made you cry?" the sneer in his voice was obvious.

She stared at him in disbelief. Could his attitude really have changed that fast? What was wrong with him? It was really too much for her, and she snapped.

"On second thought, I'm not sorry," she bit back. "You're right…why do I need to be nice to you when you did make me cry? You, with your indifference. You, with your need to confuse me and distract me in some way, mostly by getting me so angry at you that I don't even know what I'm doing! You, with your mysterious and dark personality. Do you know why I think it is that you let me stay here? It's because you need me! You need me to feed your sadistic ego, because here you've been all alone in this house for goodness knows how long, with no one to torment except easily frightened drifters."

He laughed. "Please. Spare me your little lectures, Filia."

She ignored him. "Or, I remind you of her, don't I? This woman from your past that you can't let go of. What happened to her? She didn't want you, did she? She didn't want you and that destroyed you. You drove her to insanity. She didn't want you because you can't love anyone but yourself…and I don't think you love yourself, either. You're pathetic. You're a pathetic half-ghost, or whatever you are, who can't even haunt his own house correctly. You're pathetic because you are stuck in this little world that you've created for yourself."

"That's enough, Filia." His voice was low, and if she'd been paying attention, she would have noticed the rising fury in his eyes.

But she ignored him further. "Or maybe she didn't love you because she knew what you really were…a heartless demon bent on nothing but destruction…"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!!!"

She had never heard him scream. It was the most soul-shattering sound she had ever heard. She found that she could not say another word, and all of her anger, all of the rage that she had against him at that moment died away. It was as though a veil had been lifted off of her eyes, and she saw him. She truly saw the man that was standing there…his eyes blazing, his mouth twisted into a snarl, his entire body shaking with barely controlled fury. She realized just how much her words had affected him. She had never seen him angry. She had seen him melancholy…sad…indifferent…but never angry. And she decided that she didn't like it one bit.

But he had made her angry…so very angry.

However, did he deserve the things that she had said to him? It was obvious she had struck a nerve…a very sensitive nerve. One part of her conscience scolded herself for being so thoughtless and insensitive. The other part of her conscience argued that he had been asking for this for a long time.

Before she could decide what to do, he disappeared, and it was left undecided. She had nothing to do but stand there, in dazed silence, her mind reeling with a whirlwind of thoughts.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! ^_^