A/N: Yes, I know I'm evil :P No answers to Buffy's question yet...next chapter though, I promise :) Hope you like this one anyway, thanx for reading



Xander ran for all he was worth – but he knew that Anya had already gone too far for him to easily catch up. He stopped on the sidewalk about a block from the house, trying to catch his breath – unaware of the irony as he stood in exactly the same spot where Spike had decided a bit earlier that night to return to Buffy’s house – and forced himself to just slow down and think for a minute.

*Ahn, Honey – where are you?* he thought desperately, not sure if the dull ache in his chest was from running so fast when he was so out of shape, or from the fear and pain at the thought of actually losing her.

Suddenly, it occurred to him where she might have gone.

*Our place,* he thought, adding to himself with a little grimace, *Even if she’s only there to pack her things.*

He took off at a run again, headed for the little apartment that he had bought in the first place mostly for her. Maybe he could catch her in time – he had to make her understand, how foolish, how wrong he had been.

How very much he truly *loved* her – in spite of the unintentionally cruel things he had said.

*Stupid truth spell...*

He had known that she would be there, and was not surprised when he walked through the front door to see her standing in the kitchen, near the window, her back to him as she gazed out at the clear night sky. The soft sound of a sniffle told him what he already knew would be true.

She had been crying.

She did not move, though he knew that she had heard him come in – couldn’t have possibly missed it, with all the racket he was making with his clumsy, hurried entrance – and that was vaguely unsettling to him.

He didn’t know what else he had expected, really – for her to turn and face him with the same hopeful adoration in her gaze that she always seemed to give him no matter how impatient or hard on her he had been? For her to yell and scream and threaten him with all the things she could and would have done to him, if only she’d had her powers back – things that they both knew she would never actually do to him, even if she could?

He knew one thing – what he had expected was definitely *not* the total ignoring of his presence that she was actually doing.

It made him feel suddenly uneasy, vulnerable – and drove all of his prepared words right out of his mind.

Hesitantly he stepped toward her, his voice quiet and timid as he said softly, “Ahn? Honey?”

She did not respond at all – did not even look at him.

“Please, Anya – please talk to me,” he persisted cautiously, as he slowly closed the distance between them – at least physically.

That was all that was in his power to do at the moment.

Just as he had nearly reached her, she finally spoke, though she did not turn to face him. “What is it exactly that you want me to say, Xander? ‘Hi, Honey – I’m so glad your childhood love whom I can never compare to gave you permission to come home to me – your *actual* girlfriend. Wanna have sex now?’”

He barely had time to register the sarcasm in her voice, before she turned suddenly to face him, her eyes shining with hurt and tears, looking so lost and bewildered and betrayed that it hurt his heart just to look at her – knowing that *he* had made her look at him like that.

“I don’t even *want* to have sex with you, Xander!” she said in a voice of incredulous disbelief. “Do you realize what that means? How bad this is?” she demanded in a trembling, tearful voice.

Her simple, honest way of speaking made her words all the more painfully effective.

Yeah, coming from Anya – that meant it must be pretty freakin’ bad.

“Anya,” he said in a near whisper, holding her gaze with deep, sorrowful brown eyes, as he moved in as close as he dared. “Honey – I am *so*…*sorry*. I don’t know why I did such a stupid thing! I don’t know why I didn’t – why I didn’t come after you, and went after Buffy instead, Anya – why I couldn’t – couldn’t make up my mind…”

His frank wording reminded him suddenly, with a sense of alarm, that he was still bound to the absolute truth. But then, he reminded himself – maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

Maybe it was actually of the good.

Maybe it was time *everything* came out in the open between them. They couldn’t go into a marriage hiding things from each other, big things that could later come back to hurt and haunt them for the rest of their lives. It was time to just be completely honest with each other – for better or worse.

He just hoped that when all the cards were on the table, all his frailties and fears revealed to her perusal – she would still choose him.

“Really?” Anya replied bitterly, “ ‘Cause I do! It’s because I’m your second choice, Xander! You’re still secretly in love with her, but it’s all too clear, especially now, that you’ll never be with her—so you *settled* for me!”

“I’m not ‘settling’ for you, Anya! I *love* you!” Xander insisted. “How can I be settling when you’re exactly what I want?”

“You *want* Buffy!” she shot back accusingly.

“Until I met you I didn’t *know* what I wanted!” he nearly exploded, frustration and fear of losing her evident on his face and in his trembling voice.

The surprise in her vulnerable green eyes softened his tone, as he went on, quieter, “I thought I wanted Buffy – but I was only fooling myself, Anya. It’s you that I want – for the rest of my life.”

“You did a pretty good job with the whole fooling yourself thing,” she said in a bitingly sarcastic voice, born of her hurt and jealousy. “You even fooled me!”

“Anya – I’ll admit to you – I loved Buffy, for a long time, long before I ever met you. She was always just this – this beautiful, strong – completely unattainable woman…” Xander tried to explain.

“*So* not helping,* she muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned away from him again before he could see the fresh tears his words were creating.

“No, Ahn,” he said urgently, trying to draw her attention back to him, reaching out to take her arm – relieved when she allowed him to turn her back around to face him. “Please listen to me – it’s like – Buffy was my very first love – you know? You know that first person that you ever really fall for? No matter what else happens for the rest of your life, you kind of – keep them on this pedestal, and it’s not really them, it’s like this – perfect picture of the way you saw them back then – but they’ll always be kind of special in your eyes…you know?”

When she just stared at him with a blank, expectant look that told him that she was still waiting for the part that was supposed to make her feel better, he sighed wearily, looking down for a moment before searching her eyes again.

“You had a first love – didn’t you?” he asked, almost timidly.

“Yes,” she answered flatly with a little shrug. “Really wasn’t all that great. He was an unfaithful creep and I turned him into a troll.”

“Yes, but,” Xander continued a bit impatiently – wondering briefly at how frighteningly normal that statement sounded to him after living all his life on the Hellmouth, “you actually got to be with your first love, for a while,” he pointed out, a bit awkwardly. “You got to see all the flaws. I never did. So – I guess a part of me just kind of – kept Buffy up there on this pedestal, like this – I don’t know – I know I’m messing this whole thing up – do you kinda get what I’m trying to say though?”

He gave her a hopeful, sheepish, questioning look – that was met with the same calm, blank stare.

“Yes, Xander,” she snapped back, her voice slowly rising in incredulity at his words. “You’re expecting me to somehow believe that if you could be with *Buffy* for a little while, then it will help you to love *me* better! That it’d be good for our relationship! You’re actually expecting me to *believe* this crap?”

“No! I mean yes – I mean – it’s not crap, Anya – and I *don’t* want to be with Buffy!” Xander protested, fighting back his own temper at her apparent refusal to understand. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter! I love *you* -- not Buffy. I can see that now. What I thought I felt for Buffy was never anything more than a fantasy. What we have, Anya – that’s real.”

He paused, his voice soft and earnest as he continued, meeting her eyes imploringly, “I’ve never felt for anyone what I’ve felt for you, Anya. Buffy may have been my first love – but you – you’re my last, Anya. This is it. Me and you -- *forever*, honey. And I don’t want anyone else.”

Anya’s eyes widened as she took in his demeanor – gentle and humble and pleading – his words full of a love and affection that a part of her still thirsted for desperately – and then, her eyes narrowed in suspicious recognition.

“Now, where have I seen this before?” she spat out bitterly. “Let me think – oh, right! On the faces of a thousand different liars, philanderers and abusers – right before I ripped their entrails from their bodies and shoved them right back down their throats!”

Xande recoiled slightly from the vivid imagery, alarmed – and the sad accepted that suddenly flooded Anya’s eyes, wiping out the anger, sent a pain through his heart worse than anything she had said.

“You don’t love me, Xander,” she said, shaking her head. “The only way you can even convince yourself that you do is to pretend that the greater part of my existence -- *didn’t* exist.”

Her eyes welled with tears, but her jaw set in a firm line as she went on quietly, in a trembling voice of hurt accusation, “You think you can just come in here and spout of a bunch of pretty words and beautiful promises that you won’t be able to keep, and make this all better just like that?” She snapped her fingers, shaking her head slowly in denial of the idea. “It doesn’t work that way. I’ve heard it all before, Xander…”

“But I mean it, Anya! Every word! Ahn – I couldn’t lie to you if I tried! The…”

“Stop, Xander.”

She cut him off firmly, pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, before going on softly, “You constantly put me down. You tell me all the time how I’m not normal – how much I embarrass you – sometimes the way that you look at me…” She shook her head slowly, trying to find words for her painful emotions. “…as if – as if you’re not really sure who I am – Xander – how can you marry me when I make you so scared and unhappy all the time?”

“*You* make *me*…?” he echoed incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. “Anya – I worry every day if I’m going to be able to make you happy – to live up the expectations you must have after so long – to be the man that an amazing woman like you deserves! If you catch me looking at you funny – it’s because I can’t believe that you’re actually mine – that *I’m* going to get to spend the rest of my life with someone as incredible as you…”

“That’s very easy to *say*, Xander,” she dismissed his heartfelt words in a sad, tired voice, though she longed to embrace them – and him. “It’s easy to lie when you think you’re sparing someone’s feelings.”

“But that’s just it, Anya! I can’t lie to you! Not tonight! Because of this whole vengeance truth spell…”

Anya frowned, confused. “What vengeance truth spell?” she asked.

Xander was a bit taken aback. “Um – the truth spell that’s been over everyone at Buffy’s party all night? Turns out Dawn accidentally made a wish to a vengeance demon that nobody could keep secrets from each other.”

Anya shook her head, her expression surprised but calm. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Ahn, how could you not notice?” Xander asked, disbelieving again. “Everyone was just blurting out their deepest darkest secrets, saying whatever was the first thing that popped into their heads, just being completely and brutally blunt and honest….”

He stopped suddenly.

“No, wait – never mind, you *wouldn’t* have noticed.”

The brief flash of hurt in Anya’s eyes as she pulled away took him by surprise. He had only been trying to lighten the mood a bit with his teasing.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about! You’re always making fun of me, Xander – pointing out what a bad human I make!” she declared in frustration, turning away from him again.

“No, Anya – I was only teasing – that’s one of the things I love about you! Really! How totally real and open you are…” He paused, suddenly looking a bit surprised by his own words. “See? I *have* to mean it!” he laughed, nervous and hopeful at the same time.

Anya stared at him for a moment, processing the truth of what he was telling her.

“Anya,” he pressed gently toward her, taking her arms in his hands and gazing into her eyes. “I’m telling you right now, and you know it’s the truth. I love you – more than anyone else, ever. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And if you ask me to choose between you and *anyone* else – I’ll never make the same mistake again. I’ll *always* choose you – I promise.”

She looked up at him a bit dubiously, her expression oddly unreadable.

“We – need to get to the house. If it’s a vengeance wish then they could be in real danger,” Anya said abruptly, changing the subject as she pulled out of his gentle grasp and turned toward the door.

“But – Anya – we need to talk about this!” Xander insisted. “You know I mean it, right?”

Anya stopped at the door, glancing back over her shoulder at him, hesitating before she replied. “Yes,” she said finally. “I know you mean it.”

“Then – why do you need time – if you know that I mean it?” he asked, his voice small and fearful.

God, if he still lost her, after all this…!

Anya was silent for a moment before giving her answer, just before leading the way out the door.

“I need time – to figure out how much difference that makes.”

And without another word, she headed out the door, making her way back towards Buffy’s house.

And in an ironic, poetic justice-y reverse of their usual positions -- all he could do was follow in her wake.