TITLE What I Want
FANDOM Buffy The Vampire Slayer
PAIRING Ganya Spuffy… Big bit o' Spuffy in this one.
CHAP 4 (of 6?) Chalath Horns
AUTHOR Devylish
WORDS 3554
WARNINGS none
RATING R .. .Rating change
AU timeline, Tara's around, Dawn is 17, Anya and Xander are together but not engaged, Spike and Buffy are 'foolin' around' but it's still a secret – and Buffy is still torn about how she feels for Spike. Oh and yes… yes, Giles and Anya SHOULD be together!
DISCLAIMER I own giles and anya and spike and buffy… and you'll be happy to hear that I'm bringing BTVS back to tv so that we can all ogle them some more. . ..HEH! A major lie…. I own nothing but my fantasies… (Yeah, no, I don't own Yoda either).
AN Welcome to my taste of ganya, with a sprinkle of spuffy spice.
AN Again with the thanks to: mobilealh and Xela Ebonie You have both been fabulous, and patient. I think they think I forgot about this fic! Au contraire, mon freres! Anyway: They beta'd the best they could, and then I changed stuff, so HAH all remaining mistakes are mine mine mine!!

WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW

Spike held a hand to her belly, pressing her small form against the outside wall of the crypt as he dipped his head and licked a small trail along the fragile column of her neck. He loved when she let him nibble at her neck, teasing and tempting them both. Hell, he loved it when she let him anywhere near her. And tonight, so far, had been a very good night. His slayer was definitely being more receptive of his touches, of his nearness, than she had been on other nights. She'd let him sit directly next to her at Giles' this evening, let him touch her leg while everyone was within seeing distance; although, he was pretty certain she'd deny it all if he pushed the topic. 'Ahh, well, can't have it all; at least not yet.' He grinned into Buffy's neck.

"Watch the teeth, vampire." Buffy warned halfheartedly as she curled her hands through Spike's blonde locks. He had great hair, especially after she'd played with it for a bit, loosening some of the gel and spray he used to keep it in check. She loved how soft it felt, how thick and silky, and after a night in bed, there were those cute little curls that just…. Buffy stopped. Cute!? She soooooo needed therapy. Seriously, because a dangerous, master vampire really could not, should not, be labeled as cute. She sighed and straightened her back, dropping her hands to his chest to push away from him.

Spike could feel Buffy's body tighten and tense up beneath his hands; he hated it when her mind kicked in and began to give her reasons to doubt how good the two of them were together. He made a preemptive strike. "Slayer," his voice was low and heavy as he dipped his hands up under the hem of her top, his skin leaving a trail of coolness along her warm flesh. "Slayer, Luv, you know your Watcher is in love, yeah?" Physical and mental distraction missiles deployed.

"Hmm? What?!" Her head shot up from Spike's collarbone.

"Yeah." He lifted his hand higher along her body until he was cupping one of her lace encased breasts. "Rupes is in love."

"Giles?!" Buffy repeated fuzzily, her mind torn between surprise at the news and the shocks of pleasure his talented hands were sending through her body.

"Only Watcher you have now, Luv, right?" Spike grazed Buffy's nipple with his left thumb, teasing the sensitive nub with slow, circular strokes. His other hand was at her hip, possessively kneading the curves there.

"Giles is in love? Wi-with who?" Buffy's breath caught as Spike used his hand to flick open the front clasp of her bra.

"Guess." Spike wanted to keep her distracted for just a bit longer. He moved the hand that was at her hip to the top of her jeans, working his fingers between the denim material and her warm skin.

"Guess? Mmmmm." Buffy's voice had dropped to a husky soft whisper, and her mind had dropped away altogether. "Guess what?"

Spike let a quiet laugh escape his throat before he dipped in and captured Buffy's lips again. A minute later, when she needed to breathe, he resumed his sweet assault of the skin at her neck; his fingers delving smoothly into the liquid warmth between her legs. If he played his game right, Spike could work his slayer up into such a state of orgasmic satiation, she'd stay the night with him again.

It had only happened a couple of times, her being so overwhelmed with bliss and tiredness that she didn't get out of his bed; but instead, simply snuggled closer, closing her eyes against his chest, her arm wrapped around his waist. Spike almost loved the charming snuggling of the slayer's tired body against his more than he loved the heat, the wet warmth of her body in the midst of ecstasy.

So it was with this in mind that he brought her to the edge of climax with his hands, his lips, and his murmured words before he pulled away.

The 'Noooo!" was out of Buffy's mouth before she could stop it. Her glazed eyes snapped opened, "Come back." She wrapped a second leg around Spike's hips so that he was bearing all of her weight and she could feel his hard length against her center, teasing both of them.

Spike lifted her a little higher in his arms as he promised her, "'m not leavin' you Luv. Wouldn't leave my girl like this. Wouldn't leave you ever." He small kisses to her jaw line as he made his way to the door of his crypt. "Just going to make us a little more comfortable, yeah?"

As he shut the door behind them Buffy hazily, sexily agreed "Ohhhhh, yeah."

WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW

When he felt Buffy poking at his chest with her finger, Spike's inner clock told him that it couldn't be any later than 6 a.m.

Her head was still nestled against his shoulder, but if the poking, and the sing-songy way that she was calling his name were any clue, she was definitely trying to wake him up.

"Spiiiiiikkke." Poke.

"Yo, Spikey." Poke.

Poke.

He lay wide awake, eyes closed, enjoying playful, teasing Buffy too much to admit that he was conscious just yet.

Buffy repositioned her head against his chest.

"Spikkeeeeeeyyyy." Poke.

"One Quarter of the Scourge of Europe." Poke.

Then she tilted up and whispered against his neck, "Big Bad?"

He smiled and ran his hand along her bare arm. "Got my attention now, Pet."

A giggle was followed by a demand delivered in a half-serious tone. "Okay mister. Give! Is Giles really in love with someone, or was that just an evil vampire ploy to sidetrack me into falling into your bed?"

"Bit o' both really. Great plan, that just happens to involve the truth."

"So who's he in love with? And how'd you find out before me!?"

Spike hesitated for a second; Buffy cared about both Xander and Giles so she might not handle the news of Giles having a thing for Anya all that well.

Buffy had angled her head up so that it was resting on the hand that she had curled across Spike's chest, and she was looking at him, reading his thoughts as they flickered across his expressive face. "What? What is it? Who is it?"

"Anya."

"Giles has a thing for…? Really?!"

"Rupes' has it bad."

"Does, does Anya know? Does Xander know?!"

"I don't think so, on both counts. But, erh, I think the feelings are reciprocated."

"Anya likes Giles?!"

"From what I've seen, yeah."

She was silent for a second, "I-I guess I can see Giles and Anya together. I mean, he has the patience of a saint sometimes, as evidenced by his dealing with me for so many years." She ignored Spike's chuckle. "And Anya, well, she can be a bit high maintenance."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think she's been a bit more frantic than is natural to her, cuz, erh, she's with the whelp."

Buffy wrapped her leg over one of Spike's thighs. "Xander. Crap, how's he going to take this?"

"Do you really think he was meant to be with her?"

"Well – I like that she made him happy. Happier. Content." Her foot was slowly, carelessly journeying along Spike's calf. "Although, I always thought that Xander needed someone, someone who would make him grow up."

"Oh, Harris needs to grow up A LOT," Spike intoned.

"Be nice, Spike." She took her hand from underneath her chin and curved her fingers over his bare nipple. The resulting purr was intoxicating. "How come you know all this stuff and I don't?!"

"Because," Spike reached under Buffy's arms and pulled her up so that they were face to face. "Because, like Rupes, I too am in love with a beautiful woman who doesn't know I truly love her. Might be that makes me able to see the same plight in others."

"Spike…" Buffy's eyes shaded with apprehension. Her fight or flee face was falling into place.

Spike shook his head slightly; it still amazed him that the only thing that his slayer was ever really afraid of was her own emotions. Surprising her before she could push away from him and run away, he rolled them over so that Buffy was on her back with his body pressed against hers. He wasn't applying any force, she could throw him off if she really wanted to, but he knew… he hoped, that somewhere inside, she didn't really want to.

"Slayer, Buffy." He could feel her heartbeat picking up. Feel it and hear it. "I love you, and I'm never going to stop loving you. No matter how much that bloody fucking well scares you."

Spike brushed his lips against Buffy's and he was both surprised and pleased when he felt her melt into him. Soon, they were both lost in the sensation, the pleasure of being touched by the other.

WiW WiW WiW WiW WiW

Anya was wide awake. Wide awake, laying in bed next to Xander, and fidgeting. 'And it isn't the good kind of fidgeting either,' she mused silently. No, her fidgeting had nothing to do with orgasms and pleasure, and everything to do with human hearts and minds. 'Stupid humanness.'

Anya curled onto her side and let her eyes trail around the room, curving over the dresser and the closet; touching and feeling them with her eyes. There were so many memories contained in every nook and cranny of the apartment. Memories of sitting on the couch laughing with Xander; memories of standing in the kitchen kissing and being kissed by him.

The memories were sweet, but they were also bittersweet – trailing as they were, after her burgeoning awareness that memories were all she and Xander had left. Memories were all that they were made up of: Reminiscences. Recollections. Use-to-be's.

The two of them hadn't smiled or laughed or caressed one another in forever. Not truly, not with meaning. Kissing her on the top of her head as he left the house was an absentminded afterthought on Xander's part. Talking to her, sharing his day with her – she couldn't remember the last time he'd done that.

She wasn't the first thing on his mind in the morning or the last thing on his mind at night. And, well, while some people, some couples might exist, subsist, in a life like that, Anya wanted more. She wanted Xander… or rather, she'd spent the past few years of her life, wanting Xander to desire her the way she desired him; but he didn't yearn for her. She wasn't his first thought… his last thought… and she doubted she was very many of the thoughts that were in-between.

She wasn't positive that they were 'done' with one another, but more and more, second by second, the world they'd created seemed to be crumbling around her. Sifting like sand through her fingertips.

Last night, at Giles', another few particles of sand had drifted through her hands, and she had realized, fully and completely, that she and Xander were not what she hoped they would be. They were, instead, just shadows of a dream. Shadows of what she'd seen in the eyes of Tara and Willow.

… They weren't even as solid or real as the ethereal Buffy and Spike were.

Anya tucked her hand under her head, lost in thought. When Xander had arrived at the party last night, she'd been overwhelmed with emotions. She'd found herself excited by her fleeting and enthralling 'Giles' thoughts. And she'd been relieved to finally find herself opening her eyes and looking around herself; relieved to be looking at Xander and herself from the 'outside', for the first time ever

'Yup. Excited and relieved. That's me! ... Excited, relieved, and oh, and did I forget to mention the SCARED part?'

She was Twitchy-nosed, pink-eyed, big-eared, rabbit-nearby scared. More scared than she'd ever been in her human life. She was standing at a precipice and she was about to take a blind step.

Wide awake and fidgeting.

WIWWIWWIWWIW

Anya rolled over and faced the sleeping Xander; his long lashes, curly riotous dark hair… so cute. She wondered if, somewhere in his sleep, he was thinking of her. She doubted it, but she wondered none the less. She stared at him, wishing she could read his mind and find all of the answers to her questions.

She stared and stared and stared.

She stared him into wakefulness.

Sniffing and wiggling his itching nose, Xander opened his eyes to find Anya studying him. She was looking at him kjnd of like a scientist would look at a lab rat, trying to decipher what makes it move around the maze the way it does. With a yawn, he grinned at her.

Anya felt her heart jump, just a bit, in response to Xander's goofy, familiar smile. She'd been crazy about that smile from the first time she saw it. It hurt to think that she inspired it so rarely these days….

'Oh wait, his lips are moving. He's talking. I should probably pay attention.'

"What?"

"Dawn is going to be a handful for some lucky guy."

His first words, first thoughts, of the day are of Dawn?

"She's hilarious. I was just thinking about that thing she said last night. The thing about marshmallows and chocolate–"

Anya closed her eyes; she loved Dawn, but right now, she definitely didn't want to talk about her. Interrupting Xander's musings about the youngest Summers, she asked, "Why didn't you sit next to me?"

He stopped mid-sentence. "Huh?"

"I want to know why you didn't sit next to me."

Xander stretched, sighed, and rolled over so that he was fully on his side. "And again, I say with the "huh"?"

"Last night, Xander. At Giles'. You came in, got your food, and sat down next to Dawn."

"And?"

Anya threw up her hands in exasperation. "Xander, couples, people who care about each other, should sit next to one another."

"Jesus, Anya! So you're saying because I didn't sit next to you while I ate my chili, it somehow means we're not a couple?"

"Xander, it's not just last night. Or the sitting next to me stuff. It's everything." She flopped onto her back and crossed her arms over her waist.

"Everything? That's a big pot o' stuff. Can we maybe narrow it down to one or two things?"

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

Xander opened his mouth then shut it. Lifting his hand he scratched the back of his neck. "Ahn, Hun, you've lost me again. "

"It's not a difficult question Xander. Do you want to have sex with me?"

"Now? I thought we were talking about 'everything'."

"We are!"

Xander paused then shook his head before starting again. "Erhhhh. Umm, I'm still a little tired from last night. It was a long day – early shift, the party, but I suppose I could do it… mornings are always a good time for Alexander the Great. Unless you want to wait until after breakfast?" He leaned down to deliver a peck on her cheek.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm - I'm moving out Xander."

"What?! Why? Because I want to have sex after waffles? Th-that doesn't make sense."

"Xander, it makes more sense than anything I've done in a long time." She rolled back over to face him, lifting her hand to touch his jaw. "I think it would be good for us to spend some time apart."

No man wants to hear that. Even if somewhere in his mind he knows it's the way things should be. "What?! Wait. Why?" Xander took a deep breath and focused. "We need to talk about this."

"That's just it Xander, I've wanted to talk, and listen, and kiss, and orgasm with you for weeks, months, now, and – nothing." She nervously pushed a strand away from her eyes and behind her ear. "But I've realized that I can't just wait for you to maybe decide that I'm the one you want to talk to. The one you want to sit next to." She touched his face again. "Xander, I need to know that my man WANTS me. All of me. What I say, what I think… my body. All of me."

"And because I didn't sit next to you …?"

"Xander, that was only a sign," she paused and scrunched up her face in thought, "or was it a symptom? Anyway, it was just the final 'proof' that I needed. We don't pleasure one another often enough. We don't sit next to each other anymore. We don't talk to one another about our days, or our dreams." She paused then delivered her definitive explanation. "The man I am with has to be able to handle my residual demonness."

Xander started slightly, "Residual demonness?"

Anya smiled wryly, "The fact that I was a demon and still have demon friends. The fact that I have knowledge and experiences from my demon years that might be worthy, or important, or just fun and interesting to know. You've always had issues with Ahnyanka."

Xander visibly relaxed, "Oh, that kind of residual demonness. Ahn, I'll work harder at – at appreciating your residual stuff. I love you. I don't want to lose you."

"As that little green man from that movie you like so much says, Do, or do not. There is no try. Xander, you either accept who/what I am, or you don't." She ran her fingers through the dark curls that framed his face. "You don't really love me. Well maybe you do. Maybe it's the difference between being IN love with someone and simply loving them. You love Buffy, and you love Willow, and you, you love Giles. But you're not in love with any of them. I think I fall into that category as well. The only difference being, that you and I have had sex with one another." She paused, "I think having me around has been pleasurable for you." She quickly amended her statement as he opened his mouth to speak. "For both of us, it's been pleasant for us both. But I'm really like a Chalath demon's horn to you."

"Umm. Okay." Xander drew a breath and remained silent for five full seconds before giving in. "Crap, I don't want to do it, but I have to ask. What's a Chalath horn and what does it have to do with us?"

Anya grinned. "Chalath demons have, within their own close knit group, decided that they are meek and shy of nature. For them to 'succeed' in the demon world they believe, true or untrue, that they need to keep their horns – which fall off when they're about five years old – with them at all times. They believe the horns provide them with strength when they are fighting and they take quite good care of them; they've even evolved to have little pouches right over their sternums that they can tuck their horns into for safekeeping. Anyway, Chalath's will fight, to the death if necessary, to keep their horns."

"This relates to our situation, how?"

Anya patiently continued, "Well, Chalath's don't really need their horns. Fights between Chalath's and other races have shown that a Chalath without her horn can kick some serious ass. And," she added, "Their horns are regenerative. So within a couple of weeks of losing their portable horns, their bodies seem to recognize a chemical imbalance or something, and they grow new ones, which they can replace their old ones with."

"So why do they fight so hard to keep the old ones… or any horns at all?"

"Exactly!" Anya settled back against her pillow, happy that Xander had caught on.

Only he hadn't.

Xander continued to look at her with confusion.

"XANDER! I'm your horn! I think. And you, you're my horn. And we've been fighting to keep our hands on our horns when, maybe, we're better without them. And also, we've ignored the fact that we're umm, may be able to grow new horns."

A correlation dawned on Xander. "You think we're using each other as security blankets."

Anya stopped "I suppose that would be an acceptable analogy for our situation too."

"Ahn, I don't think I'm using you as a blanket, or a horn, I love you."

Anya searched Xander's adorable face, his warm honey brown eyes and his cute lips. If he wasn't going to be the brave one, she would have to be. "Then it must just be me." She tuned her head further into the pillow, letting her hair fall around her face. "I- I know I'm using you as a horn, Xander. And I don't want to do that anymore. It's not fair to you. Or to me."

She glanced at him, watching him struggle for something to say, a way to convince her that she was wrong. As he opened his mouth to offer up some sort of argument, she placed her fingers over his lips, "I'll move out sometime this week, after I find another place to live." In the back of her head, Anya thought to herself, 'I'll have to ask Giles for a raise.'