The After Party, Giles/Anya, Chapter 2/4
Anya felt cold, and her arms wrapped loosely around her middle pulled tight again. The doorway to Giles’ flat looked dingy and unpromising, just like the hallway. He was not poor, she knew this for a fact. Hours of pouring over all financial records relating to The Magic Box had left an amazing paper trail to Giles wealth. A wealth she had been sworn to keep secret. She had expected loans, years of repayment, and instead a shop that was entirely hers. Or, theirs, but since he’d gone away…
Well, what does it matter now? She thought to herself. I’ve gone away too. Anya felt a little colder at that revelation. That shop held a lot for her, even if right then, she didn’t want it to.
Giles held the door open for her, and she shuffled in rather apprehensively. Disappointment plummeted to despair as she took in her surroundings.
“Giles, how long have you been living here?”
“About three months?” The door seemed to rattle when he closed it behind him.
Taking tentative steps further into his living space, she made a quick note of what she just learned. “You moved again.”
“Pardon?”
“You moved again. Three months since you left the second time. Where did you live before?”
“Somewhere else.” He grumbled, sounding annoyed at her observation.
She let his evasion slide, knowing her own information was only spilling out in torrid rants and incomprehensible curses. The apartment wasn’t horrible, she had to admit, it just didn’t feel quite like Giles. Sure, there were books, stacks of them in fact, taking up most of the front room. Except for a green sofa that also occupied the space, scrolls stacked on it’s cushions like pyramids. The way the books were put around though, as if in storage, awaiting their next destination. In-between here, and the next place. Except it seemed Giles had stalled in the moving process, and showed no sign of turning the engine back on. The walls were off-white and bare, screaming out into the emptiness of the room.
Giles hung his coat by the door, making Anya do a re-sweep of the room for any other bits of furniture she might have missed. Aside from a few stools in the kitchen, there was nothing. She found it all strangely disappointing.
“You have no table,” she pointed out.
“No, I don’t.” He headed for the kitchen and she slunk after him, seeking refuge on one of the stools.
“Why?”
He was rummaging through the cabinets, not even acknowledging her question.
Anya tapped her fingers against the counter the stool sat under, growing bored quickly, and craning her neck to try and see down the hallway. The walls were bare there too. Three months and the man wasn’t even trying. Then again, there was that woman at the pub...
“Who were you talking to?”
“When?” He set down two glasses and a decanter of something amber and alcoholic.
It suddenly made her think of The Magic Box, and the little stashes she’d found hidden around. There was one bottle left after he’d gone, behind the counter, just for her. She had thought of it as a strange gift for him to give, but had appreciated it none-the-less.
“At the pub.”
“Ah, Helen. Colleague. She‘s part of a coven I‘ve been working with.” Giles looked and sounded tired as he poured the drinks, carefully walking around the counter to sit on a stool next to her.
Watching him, Anya finally realized he probably needed this as much as her. Though whatever was hurting him, she didn’t fully understand. He was one of those people who left. Like Xander. Then again, he had gone away before Buffy had even been back. No, she knew this man’s wounds were deeper, older, and quite different from hers. He may have been the one who left, but Buffy had abandoned him. His near-empty, uncharacteristic flat seemed to make it out that way anyhow- he seemed lost.
The drink Giles offered her went down fast, burning it’s way down into her core and taking away the cold. She practically slammed the empty glass back onto the counter.
“Careful demon, whatever you break you have to buy.” He took a measured sip out of his glass.
She appreciated the retail quip, but his calmness about her new re-demon state irked her. She wanted him to be surprised.
“It’s coming out of your paycheck, you mean,” she shot back.
“Of course.” A little flicker of amusement appeared on his face again.
-
The door was flung open violently, and the tiny bell above it gave a crazed jangle at its abuse. Xander ignored it, hurrying forward on heavy steps.
“Spike!” He shouted. “Spike!”
“Keep your knickers on, I’m here.” The blonde vampire was up the stairs, thumbing through a spell book.
Xander charged across the floor and up the steps after him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Neither heard the bell's softer, slightly more appreciative chime as Buffy entered the shop.
“What do you think? I’m looking for a spell.” The vampire waved the book in the carpenter’s face.
“Then where is Anya? Why are you robbing her?
“Robbing? Hey, the door was open. Sign says it’s open too. It’s not my fault if she went off and didn’t close shop.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to make a mess, and she wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m just repeatin’ what I heard. ‘Sides, as long as I leave some cash on the counter vengeance girl shouldn’t mind.”
Xander’s mind stalled as it proceeded what Spike just said. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Xander grabbed the front of Spike’s coat and pinned him against a bookcase. “What?”
“Your. Girl. Got herself all demony-again. Good for her. At least, it’s what her friend told me when I walked in.”
“You're lying!”
“Xander!” Buffy put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him away form Spike. “Just relax a moment, alright. We’ll figure this out.” He gave a stiff nod and wrapped his arms around his middle.
“Good boy.” Spike smiled.
“Spike,” Buffy warned before she started again in a more neutral voice. “What makes you think that Anya-”
“Because that irritating friend of hers, Halfrek- the one that trapped us in your bloody house? Was here, saying Anyanka just teleported away to do some dirty work. And if you two, don‘t mind, I have a numbing spell to cast.” He waved the spell book at them and tried to walk past them.
“Not so fast.” She grabbed his coat. “Are you sure-”
“Positive luv.”
Emotion slowly drained out of Xander’s face until it morphed into a flat stone carving. Buffy let go of Spike and she turned towards him. The vampire hurried down to the shop floor before he could get caught again.
“God, Xander, are you-?”
“It’s what she’s been trying to do all afternoon isn’t it?”
“What?”
“Talking to you, Willow. Should have seen this coming I guess.” A manic look appeared in his eye and he ran his hand through his hair. “Curse me, hex, gag me, kill me! She hates me now! How am I supposed to..? How can I apologize to her if she..?”
Spike frowned, looking back up at where Xander stood. Raising the book above his head he asked, “Want to try for a two-fer?”
“Spike,” Buffy snapped. “Now is not the time.”
“Well, when is it bloody time? I’m sorry, if my plans no longer correspond to yours. Or, or if you’re no longer bending them to your will.”
“Spike, you would please SHUT-UP?!” Xander balled his hands into fists. “And leave Buffy out-”
“Out of what? She’s the one leaving me out! Out in the cold, outside, out of her life, out of her bed!”
“God! When will you get that sick notion out of your twisted mind!”
“No, Xander, please.” Buffy took a step towards him, trying to calm him down.
“No, Buffy, listen, he needs to-”
“Stop telling the truth?” the vampire taunted.
“No, he needs to get beat for playing sick jokes on people.” He put his hand on the rail about to head down the stairs and beat the crap out of the defenseless vampire when Buffy put a hand on his arm.
“Xander..”
She didn’t look at him, eyes directed away, towards the ground.
“No.”
Her hand fell away from him and she nervously held it with the other.
“No, Buffy, please tell me he’s lying.”
Slowly, she reached out for him again only to have her hand shoved away.
“Don’t touch me.”