Isabel was more confused than ever. It had been almost a week since she had last spoken with Xander and every moment she spent alone, thinking about her supposed mission and her revenge left her wondering more and more why she was bothering at all. Killing Methos wouldn't bring her parents back to her the way they were, no matter how much she wanted that to be the case. And what if her parents were wrong about him being as evil as they said he was? Xander hadn't seemed too concerned when she mentioned Methos potentially doing to Rome what had been done to Sunnydale. And he had been right when he said that he had done this longer than she had. What if he was right? What if she was looking for the wrong things, for the wrong reasons?

More than ever she knew she wanted to find Xander and talk to him again. But every night she had shown up at their diner and he hadn't. She began to wonder whether he had ever planned on doing so again. He had seemed pretty angry when she brought up the possibility of facing Methos on her own. Maybe the skeletons in his closet were more powerful than she had imagined. Maybe she had driven him away for good.

She hated to think that might have been the case. She had never had a friend before, and the idea that she might have lost the first one she'd ever had because of Methos, infuriated her. He had already taken her parents, and she would be damned if she would allow him to take her first real friend.

She looked out the window and brightened considerably as she watched Xander's tall frame headed towards the diner. Trying not to smile, she looked down at her salad and picked at it, waiting for him to notice her and sit down.

"I didn't think I'd see you here." His voice was cautious as the chair scraped back and he sat down in front of her. She looked up and managed a small smile.

"I was hoping you would come back."

"I was hungry," he said with a shrug.

"Well whatever the reason, I'm glad." She said firmly. "I wanted to apologize. I tried to pull you into something that you obviously have your reasons for staying out of."

"Does this mean you've changed your mind?" He looked interested now, putting the menu down and gazing at her intently. It was her turn to shrug now, not wanting to tell him the truth, that she wasn't sure, but not wanting to lie to him about it either.

"I don't know," she finally said with a sigh. "To be honest, I just don't know."

"Yea, well you don't know what you're getting involved with Isabel." He sounded angry again and she hated that, but she had to make him understand. "I just can't see why you insist on killing yourself."

"Look who's talking," she shot back, unable to resist the bate. "Didn't you tell me that you've alienated your friends in this idiotic attempt to take on the vampires and demons of Rome all by yourself?"

"That's MY business," he muttered, looking for all the world as if he would get up and leave again at any second. Something inside of her screamed not to let him go, but she would not back down. She was right damn it, and she had to make him see.

"And my parents' death is mine," she insisted. "Why can't you see that? I'm not asking you for help anymore Xander. I don't care what you do. I just want to know that you understand."

"Understand a death wish you mean?"

"Are you determined to lose every friend you make?" She exclaimed. He looked surprised at that and waved the waitress that headed in their direction away for the time being.

"Is that what you would call me?" He asked her softly. "A friend?"

"I don't know," she admitted, suddenly more nervous and unsure than she had ever been. "I told you, I've never had a friend. I want you to be. I feel close to you. I can't explain it, but I do. But you don't seem to want to be close to anybody. I try to let you in, to tell you what matters to me and you push me away."

"I'm not interested in a friend that's determined to get herself killed."

"I know you lost someone," she said softly. Reaching out, she touched the side of his face lightly and trailed her touch all the way up to the patch over his eye. He stopped her hand as it went to remove it, but didn't let go. "I know you've lost a lot yourself. But I've lost everything and from what you've told me, you still have people who love you."

"You trying to tell me your life has been harder than mine? Because let me tell you that…"

"You want to play this game? You really want to go there Xander? Because I can guarantee you that you'll lose." She glared at him, and he glared back.

"You have no idea what's happened to me. No idea what I've gone through."

"I might if you'd tell me!" She shot back. "You think it's been so tough, so hard for you! If you've lost more than I have, it's only because you have more than I ever could! Don't you see that? I'm just trying to make you understand why this is important to me."

"Because this guy killed your parents," he said wearily. "I know."

"Do you have parents Xander?" She asked, then correcting herself before he could speak added, "alive, I mean."

"They're alive," he replied blithely. From the look on his face, she could tell that that fact wasn't one that mattered particularly much to him. Perhaps that was why he couldn't see why this mattered to her. "Where they are, or what they are doing I couldn't tell you. They blew town before Sunnydale sank. I can't be mad at 'em. I told them to leave. Of course, you'd think they'd drop their first born a post card when they get where they're going, but hey who's complaining?"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, thinking how terribly lonely it must have been for him to grow up in a household like that. "But surely you had someone…someone to talk to, to laugh with…"

"I had Willow," he said simply. She felt her throat constrict at the love she heard in his tone and wondered why it bothered her that his feelings seemed to run so deep.

"Willow…" she trailed off, waiting for him to say more. When he didn't, she continued. "Is she the one who…is she the woman you lost?"

"What makes you think that?" He asked, averting his gaze. She forged ahead.

"You said you lost someone. I figured it was someone special. She sounds pretty special to you."

"She is," his voice was hoarse now and she wondered if he was fighting back tears. He still wouldn't look at her. "But she's not the one I lost. She…she's in Brazil right now. She and her girlfriend are looking for slayers. She sent us here actually to find one. But that's…" he waved his hand as if it didn't matter. "She's my best friend. She's always been my…she's been there for me when nobody else was. I just…I guess I miss her that's all."

"Who did you lose Xander?" Isabel wondered. "If not your best friend or your parents, then who?"

"My fiancé," he said finally. He looked up at her again and suddenly looked very tired and about ten years older. "Anya. We…we were supposed to get married, but I ran away like a damn coward. We were just finally getting back together…getting back to a place where we might have been able to…"

"I'm sorry," she told him and was surprised to discover that she meant it wholeheartedly. When had she began to care for him as much as she did right now? She was about to reach out to him, when his fist slamming down onto the table angrily made her jump and jostled her plate to the point where, if it hadn't been for her quick reflexes, would have fallen to the floor and broken.

"Damn it!" He hissed loudly. His face was alight with fury now and she swallowed slightly, realizing that it was her fault for making him tell her something so personal. "I should have been there. I should have saved her. Buffy split us up and when I went back to look for her…ten more seconds it was all I needed. I should've been there."

"You did all you could," she offered weakly. He sensed the empty platitudes and glared at her.

"Oh yeah? Well how the hell do you know? You weren't there."

"I know how I felt when Methos killed my parents," she shot back. "I was just as angry as you are, believe me. If I could have caught him…" she shook her head, hating that the memory of it had made her anger bubble to the surface as well. "The bastard ran. He claimed he didn't want to fight me….said he didn't want to kill. Ha! He didn't seem to mind killing two people, but he stops at three?"

"You would have lost." Xander told her patiently. She hated that he had so little faith. Part of her wanted to stand up and show him just how strong they had made her, just how powerful she truly was, but she didn't. It would only scare him. "Immortals are powerful. I know, believe me."

"What would you do Xander if somebody killed someone you loved right in front of you? If you'd been face to face with your fiance's killer? Or Willow…what if you watched someone hurt her? What would you do?"

"I'd…" he trailed off, realizing where this was going and smiled regretfully. "We're never going to agree on this Isabel. Why don't we just have dinner and keep the demon fighting in the 'things we don't talk about out loud' category…like Santa Claus, or Dad's drinking."

"I…" she paused and gazed at his wan expression. "You still want to talk to me?"

"You that hard up for a friend?" He joked feebly. "I mean, I'm no prize. Look at me…even Long John Silver carried the eye patch with more grace."

"I think it makes you unique," she said with a genuine smile for the first time that night. "And I would be honoured to be your friend."

"And to think in high school they wouldn't come anywhere near me," he chuckled softly to himself. "All right, but I can't think for the life of me what we're going to talk about. I mean, demon fighting is all I do. It's all I've been doing ever since…"

She knew what he had been about to say and nodded empathetically. Finding Methos had been all she had done, all she had been about ever since her parent's death. She wasn't sure she knew how to care about anything else, and from the look on his face, she could tell he shared the same worry.

"Let's start with ordering pie," she suggested. "Then I'll tell you what my favourite American movie is and we'll go from there."

"Sounds good to me," he said softly, and smiled with real warmth.