Chapter 3: I never learn
Spoilers: None that I know of
A/N: Thank you for all the suggestions. You guys are great! I'm sorry I couldn't take all of them, but the vote was kind of split. Those who suggested multiple points of view, you gave me some great ideas. Those of you who suggested Xander's POV should be next, don't worry; I'll get back to him. How could I not get back to Xander? Mmmm...Xander...
Disclaimer: It would be keen if you didn't sue me. Thanks!
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I never learn. And it just doesn't make sense, because this is hardly the first time it's happened—to me, and to countless other women throughout the ages. I still hear their voices sometimes, crying, screaming, choking out the words: "I wish…"
All those women I avenged, all those men I punished, and I didn't learn a thing. I didn't learn that it's all about wishes. Love is the ultimate wish. Its pursuit is what keeps humans going. Its loss is what brings their pathetic hopes screeching to a halt.
And now it's my turn to wish.
"A-Anya? We should…we need to talk."
I wish I didn't know what he was going go say.
"We do?" I wonder if my surprise sounds genuine.
He wipes his hand over his mouth. He paces. They all think I don't know how to act human; they should know I can recognize a human act when I see it. "Yeah. Uh, you know, Anya, you're a great girl—woman, I mean. A great woman. Beautiful, interesting, funny—"
"The popular women's magazines say 'interesting' is not a compliment to a woman. They say 'interesting' is better suited to documentaries and ugly girls."
I wish this were our first conversation. It would be so much more promising as a first conversation instead of what I know it is: our last.
Xander laughs for a second, and I would like to believe that my comment was pleasing enough that he will change his mind, but he sobers again. "I meant that the things you say—that you're different. Unexpected. In a good way."
I wish I could take this small piece of wistfulness coming off him and use it to make him stay. I wish I did not know that the wistfulness was tied inextricably to the guilt. "Go on," I say in a calm voice. I think it's a calm voice. I've practiced so hard.
"Well, you see, Anya," he begins, and he is shaking. It occurs to me that he is afraid. Not just because he is about to hurt me, but because he thinks I may be about to hurt him. I still have connections, after all. "As much as I like you—and I really do, for the reasons I said and more—"
"The orgasms." Men. It's always about the orgasms with them.
"No," Xander says solemnly. "Not just that. Listen, An. I know you and I weren't the likeliest couple—although this is the Hellmouth, after all, and couples here tend to be unlikely—but I really…I've had fun with you. And not just orgasm fun."
"This is where you say, 'but,'" I supply, and my voice is breaking like all those weak women before me.
I wish his voice were not this soft, his eyes not this beautiful. Because I would like to hate him. I know he has tired of me, and it isn't fair, and we will never have orgasms together again—or anything together—and it would make so much more sense if I could hate him, but I don't feel that in me. I've felt hate, and I cannot find it now.
"It is," he says. "And no matter what you might think, it isn't easy. It's just…I can't give you what you want."
"How do you know what I want? I'm newly-human-again and therefore unique," I say defensively.
"You sure are," Xander laughs sadly. I may be human, but I don't understand this mixing of emotions. Laughter is for joy and mocking, not for sadness. "But that doesn't mean you deserve anything less than a relationship with someone who loves you."
"And you can't do that."
"No," he sighs. "I can't."
"Because of her."
His head snaps up and he regards me suspiciously. "What do you—"
"Because of Willow," I say impatiently. "Because your friendship with her has always bordered on romantic love, and now that Oz has left her, you feel this is an opportune time to expand the boundaries of your relationship to include physical intimacy."
Xander looks stunned, but I believe it is due to my powers of observation and not an indication that I am incorrect in my assumptions.
"I can't…" he says softly. "I can't deny that."
I wish he could. I wish he would laugh and say, "Oh, Anya, you zany ex-vengeance demon. You're just transferring the skepticism you learned from your millennium of avenging scorned women to our situation here today, and, let me assure you, I have no feelings whatsoever for Willow." But Xander doesn't use words like that. He is a simple man, and he simply loves his childhood friend and always will, and not even an enchanting woman such as myself can tear his heart away from her.
I walk to him and touch his arm. He flinches. "Xander." He looks at me, finally, and he looks guilty and frightened. "You can stop worrying. I'm not going to seek vengeance."
"I'm relieved," he says. "But I still feel…I'm sorry, Anya."
"You should be. You're unlikely to find another woman like me in your lifetime." You won't have to. She will be all you need.
Xander looks relieved, but the guilt is still there. "You didn't have to make it so easy on me."
"I know," I reply. "But I've been making it difficult on men for many years. I think, this time, it's just going to be difficult for me."
"You don't have to do it alone, you know. Maybe you won't even want to look at me for a while, but if you change your mind later on—"
"We can still be friends, right?" I say, not convincingly. "They say that in the movies."
Xander looks at me with his soft eyes. "They do. But I've never said it before. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."
"Thank you, Xander." Now I'm the one looking at the floor. "I'll consider it. Perhaps in the future when I have a new boyfriend to show off to you and your friends. One with greater financial security and business acumen." I raise my eyes to him, and I know they are full of tears—that I am a weak human, after all—but I do not try to hide them. I know punishment, and this will be punishment enough for Xander. He may be a man, but he is not an evil one.
"I'm sure it won't take you too long." He walks away slowly, turning back at the door. He gives half a wave before rethinking it. He gives half a smile, then sobers. "Bye, Anya."
"Goodbye, Xander. I've enjoyed our time together. Except for the immediate past, that is."
This time when he laughs, it is genuine. "Me, too." The smile winds down on his face, but slowly. He steps through the door and closes it softly behind him. A tiny click latches the door behind him. A tiny click was all it took for him to leave me.
I wish Xander had been able to love me, but I know I didn't have a chance. For Xander, there has always been Willow. I can only hope there will be as strong a match for me.
In case this match is difficult to find or long in coming, I should shop for new and attractive clothing with which to entice the senses of the male populace, so that I may be entertained while I'm waiting. Giles might be a good diversion. His orgasm friend will have returned to England by now, and he'll be lonely.\-----
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To be continued...