Xander couldn't wait for the night to be over. All around him people smiled, laughed, drank and enjoyed themselves. Buffy had wanted to leave as soon as possible for Rome, but Duncan and Joe had insisted that a good bye party was in order and in the interest of not appearing rude or ungrateful, Buffy had convinced Xander to put in an appearance. He didn't have to heart to say it to her, but he personally didn't give a damn if he appeared rude or ungrateful. He couldn't care less what these people thought of him either way. He just wanted to leave.

All he cared about at present was getting to Rome, to another Hellmouth, to continue the only thing that held any interest for him anymore: fighting. Paris was a nice city as far as cities went, but in Xander's opinion it had far too many immortals and far too little demons. His nightly patrols often came up eventless, leaving him angry and hurting. It was those nights that he was left alone with his thoughts that memories of Anya took over. All he could think of were his own failures towards her and everything else he had done wrong.

He still ached to go back for her. It was a constant pain that never seemed to abate, no matter how many demons he killed.

But it made him feel better when he was fighting for his life, if only marginally. It made him feel alive, like he was making a difference. As if he could make up for his failure to save her by saving others. He knew it was impossible, but it was all he could do. It was all he knew how to do. Self loathing and anger was the only thing that kept him going. He was no stranger to it. He had always had that anger within him, but he was usually able to mask it with lame self deprecating jokes. Every now and then he would let it out and hurt someone in the process…usually Buffy. Up until this point, Spike and Angel were pretty much the only two beings that could cause him to lash out the way he was known to. Now almost anything set him off.

He knew the others were worried, knew they cared, but they were too wrapped up in their own new lives and new problems to really see how far Xander was sinking. Even he was blind to it for the most part.

Looking at the others, he felt a tug within the places that had long gone cold within his heart. Dawn and Richie sat together, laughing and talking animatedly. Buffy and Adam sat next to them doing the same, albeit their conversation seemed a bit tense compared to Dawn and Richie. Joe was on stage playing with his band and Duncan sat down with the other four, handing all of them drinks. Xander sat alone at the table next to them, staring at the clock and feeling like a caged animal. He didn't sit apart on purpose. There was a limited amount of space at their table, and though Buffy had pulled them together, Xander opted for the isolated seat away from the main group. It was logical as he was the one without any real ties to Duncan and the others and given that the going away party was mainly for Buffy and Dawn's benefit he would have felt like an intruder had he insisted he sit at the main table.

How odd it was to feel like an outsider. It shouldn't seem odd, as Xander had always been a social outsider in high school and then later on when the gang had gone to college leaving Xander as the only one at first in the workforce. And yet in both these cases, he had had his friends to cling to, to let him know that he wasn't alone. Now, that was gone. Buffy and Dawn seemed to fit in seamlessly with this new world and Xander had been left to drift. A small part of him resented them for it, but he quashed it, admonishing himself for thinking such a thing. Buffy and Dawn had arguably suffered more than he ever would. They were entitled to a little happiness. Xander just didn't like to see it rubbed in his face this way. Not when he was hurting so terribly.

It looked as if the younger immortal Richie Ryan would be joining them at Adam's Italian villa in order to spend more time with Dawn. Any other time Xander would have felt the need to watch him, to protect Dawn in case he was wrong for her. He would have felt a brotherly resentfulness to her growing up. Now, all he felt was apathy. He watched as they got up to dance and sighed, turning his head away. He didn't even notice Buffy approaching him until she tapped him on the shoulder.

"Wanna dance?" She quirked a smile at him and reached out her hand to him. He didn't want to dance. He didn't want to do anything that resembled being social, but the hopefulness in her eyes was hard to turn away from.

"Yea, OK." He stood up reluctantly and followed her to the short space that was the designated dance floor. Joe was singing a slow blues tune that was easy to get the rhythm of. They didn't speak for several minutes and for the first time since he had asked her out and subsequently been rejected, Xander felt awkward with Buffy.

"You haven't said much all night Xand," Buffy said softly. Her words were meant to sound like a simple observation, but Xander could hear the question within them. The same question they had all been asking him since Sunnydale disappeared. Are you OK?

"Not much to say." He replied with a slight edge to his voice. "I'm not as close to everyone here as you are. I wouldn't know where to begin."

"You've been real lone wolf-y since we got here." Buffy stated with a false casualness that annoyed him slightly. "You haven't given any of them a fair chance."

"I don't have to like everybody you do you know." Xander said, feeling his jaw tighten and his body go tense.

"I'm not asking you to." Buffy reassured him. "I'm just trying to talk to you. Why do you have to be so defensive?"

"I don't know." Xander admitted, letting his shoulders slump and his guard down for the first time that night. "I…I just don't feel right here. This is your night. I shouldn't be here bringing it down."

"You're not," Buffy said firmly. "You are part of the family Xander. The Scooby Gang. One for all and all for one remember?"

"That's the three musketeers." Xander said with a faint smile. Inside he wondered why that motto had not applied when he had been dragged out of the crumbling high school as he searched for Anya. "You're mixing your metaphors."

"Muskateers, stooges, three headed monkeys whatever, we are a team. You, me and Dawnie. We have to stick together. Lately it seems you've been here, but not…you know?" She sighed and looked him in the eye. "I know what that's like. When I was pulled out of heaven, I did the same thing you're doing."

"It's not like that," Xander argued. Then, in an attempt to lighten things, "for one thing I'm not sleeping with Spike."

"No," she said softly, her face falling as she thought of the dead bleached blonde vampire. "You're not."

Xander suddenly felt like a first class jerk for bringing him up. He knew that she had come to care for him very deeply after his soul was restored and even though he couldn't for the life of him understand why, he knew she was still hurting from his loss.

"Jeez Buff I'm sorry. My mouth doesn't even try to correspond with my brain anymore." He shrugged. "Guess they're not on speaking terms."

"It's OK," she replied easily, though her eyes betrayed those words. "This isn't about me and Spike. It's about you."

"What do you want from me Buffy?" Xander asked, weary of the conversation and eager to get back to his seat.

"I want you to be OK," Buffy told him, her eyes searching his for some sort of sign to that end. Evidently finding none, she sighed sadly. "I want to help you if you're not."

"That's nice," he told her honestly, not wanting to anger her. "But did you ever think that maybe you can't? That maybe this is something I have to figure out on my own? I love you guys, but I can't be the person you need me to be. Not yet."

"We don't need you to be anybody but Xander Harris." Buffy told him firmly. She sighed once more and let go of him as the song ended. "If you see him, just pass that message along, OK?"

And with that, she headed back to her seat.