The After Party, Giles/Anya, Chapter 1/4
Title: The After Party
Summary: After her failed wedding, Anya finds companionship in someone other than Spike.
Rating: PG/FRT
Characters/Pairings: Giles/Anya, Xander/Anya, Anya, Giles, Buffy, Spike, Xander, Willow, Halfrek, mentions of Spike/Buffy
Notes: First two chapters of this include some other stuff happening because these four chapter are really the beginning of a longer story that I want to eventually finish. Still, I felt bad about spacing out about my post days and felt like I should put something up, even if it's just the start of a story.
-
“They’re all ‘oh, poor Xander! It took so much out of him, all that running away he did.’ I just don’t understand what’s wrong with these people.” Anya leaned on the shop counter and glowered at nothing.
Halfrek shook her head, unimpressed at how the newly re-empowered Anyanka was handling her situation. “Did you-”
“You know what?” She cut her off. “If I can’t have vengeance, other people are just going to have to make do with suffering horribly.”
Before Halfrek could ask her what she meant, the blonde vengeance demon teleported away. She stared at the spot her friend had been standing moments ago, irritated with the knowledge that whatever Anyanka was about to do, it would be gruesome. She was going to be accepted back into the fold almost immediately! Ever since Anyanka had lost her powers, Halfrek had been in good regard with D’Hoffryn. With that awful mood she was in, the blonde was bound to grant some nasty wishes. The vengeance demon knew she was about to get bounced back down to number two on the list again.
-
Buffy sighed, watching Xander as he paced back and forth through her kitchen. Their discovery of the camera, the rush to confront Spike, and falling back to home base with Willow had gone by too fast. The little walk to the graveyard and back had done nothing to the energy he had built up on seeing Anya. The ex-bride needed time alone though, Buffy could see it clearly, and she was sure Xander could too. Yet like he said, he wasn’t the type to wait around. The mystery of who was spying on Buffy would only be a small distraction to his larger inner turmoil problems.
“Hey,” Willow said, looking up from her laptop, face out of place in the room with its cheerfulness.
“Talk to me, Will.” Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, glad something had come from the tension.
“Technology's pretty sophisticated, lots of booby traps and firewall stuff…”
Xander stopped his pacing and turned to hard-core staring.
“But can you get us a location?” Buffy asked.
“Well, hey,” she mumbled, getting a pouty look on her face. “I’m still me. Just one- woah!”
“What?” She was out of her chair and hovering over the witch’s shoulder with Xander.
“There are other cameras.. oh my Goddess.”
They all watched in slight horror as the number of screens increased, showing how much of their lives was being watched. School, Buffy and Xander’s work… The Magic Box came up last, and Xander seemed to snarl when he saw it.
“What’s Spike doing there?”
The blonde vampire seemed content on ransacking the shelves, and despite the noise he was no doubt making, no one seemed to be going to investigate.
“Just going to ransack the place and steal while she’s not there?” Eyes set with a new focus for his energy and frustration, he marched for the door.
“Xander!” Buffy called after him.
“Go after him,” Willow urged. “I’ll do what I can tracing this.”
-
Poets were fascinating, she’d have to go looking for them more often. All it took was a simple ‘I wish’ followed by quite the dirty limerick. In D’Hoffryn’s name! She had forgotten how amusing mortals could be. Even though just a short while ago she had been one... Anya twirled her shot glass between her fingers, staring at it’s new found emptiness. At the moment she was testing the limits of her new demon gut, trying to find where drunk and stupid ran together. It was taking much longer than she wanted it to.
“Another round.”
The barman gave her a funny look, almost the same look her had given her when he had first heard her speak. Tourist generally didn’t find themselves into his place, but he poured her as generously as he did his regular patrons. Anya’s lips were parted in anticipation of the next drink, when a familiar voice made her jolt, sending the alcohol across the bar instead of down her throat. She swiveled around in her stool as she heard it again.
“Anya?” Giles looked only marginally more surprised than she did. “What’re you-? Are the others-?”
At the blasphemous mention of ‘the others’ she scowled at him, stopping his panicky thought process before it could leap any farther.
“Mr. Giles?” The vengeance demon’s eyes turned to the newcomer, a young brunette. “We’re heading out.” Her eyes traveled curiously between him and Anya.
“Go on ahead Helen,” he said, face settling into a frown as he stared at Anya. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
With an unsatisfied frown on her face, Helen nodded that she understood and slipped out towards the pub’s exit, two others waiting for her at the door.
“Anya,” Giles began again, slower with a great deal more confusion on his face. “Is someone.. How did.. Why are you here?”
“What does it look like? I’m trying to get drunk.”
“Trying?” The barman grumbled, causing Anya to swivel back around and glare at him.
“He made me spill. Giles, you owe be a drink!”
“I have a better idea.” He stepped into argument quickly, breaking apart the staring match going on between her and the barman. “Why don’t we both get drunk somewhere else?” Giles put his hand on her arm, hoping to pull her off her seat gently, instead she yanked herself away form him and stood up on her own.
“Hey, you have to pay for that last round.”
A surprisingly large fistful of coins flew at the barman's face, and the old Watcher was running out of the pub behind Anya.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” he called after her, trying to keep up as she sprinted down the street.
He caught up when she stopped short, only to glare at him and say, “leave me alone.”
Giles gave her a sharp 'no' in response.
She crossed her arms and frowned at him.
“Please.” He started up with the patient, slightly worried voice again. “Just-”
“I’m here on my own. Everyone’s fine. Just happy and dandy in their world of Xander-love and leaving me out alone to suffer!” Anya didn’t care about the man’s confusion to her outburst, she just wanted to go out and find herself another poet. Someone who would say ‘I wish’ and read Xander’s body into torturous journey of rhyme and pain. She would have written things down more often if there had ever been a chance of them coming true.
When all she did was continue to glare into space, Giles tried a new tactic. If he was to get any information out of her, he needed her to at least start making sense- or stay around long enough until he understood her. “The offer for a drink… it’s still open.”
She blinked several times, pushing away her frustration to try and focus on the present. “Where?”
“My flat, it’s a few streets over if you don’t mind walking.”
“I don’t.”
As an awkward silence descended on them Giles took off his glasses and then nervously cleaned them on his shirttail. “Uhm.” He put the spectacles back on his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. “This way.” He was several steps ahead of her when she started following.
The silence between them didn’t last long. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Why I’m here.”
“Well… I uh, figured you would tell me when it was more convenient for you.”
She harrumphed at his answer.
Giles sighed. “So why are you here?”
“There’s a young girl who wrote poetry about the bastard that left her. I felt inclined to make her writing come true.”
He stopped dead in his tracks as she spoke, and she took the several steps necessary to be standing at his side. She watched him with a sick-fascination, almost hoping he would react violently to the news. Of course, he had to simply look at her and say ‘Oh’. That disappointed her, so she wrapped her arms tighter around herself and began to march forward, even though she had no idea where she was going.
“There’s a turn up here,” he called after her.
Anya stopped walking again, infuriated by his calm. “Don’t you want to know?” she grumbled.
“Know what?”
He knew damn well what. “Why!” she shouted out. With him still a few feet behind, the cry had been directed more towards the night then him. “Don’t you want to know why?” It came out little more than a whisper.
“Only if you want me to.”
Anya jumped, having not heard the last few steps of his approach. She wasn’t used to this. Not after what happened, especially not before. “I was getting married.” That was a time when everyone wanted to know what was going on. Could they help? Was she nervous? Hungry? Was there anything she needed? “Married!” She practically screeched.
“I was aware of that engagement.” From the corner of her eye she could see the slight twitch of his lip, amusement sparked on some strange thought.
“I was there, God-damn it Giles, I was there!”
He was confused again.
“In the church, in the dress. In front of everyone! And where was he?” She felt his hand on her arm again, but this time she didn’t pull away. “He wasn’t there,” Anya spat.
“It’s past time for that drink.” She heard him sigh.
Wiping traitorous tears from her cheeks, she couldn’t agree more heartily.
Summary: After her failed wedding, Anya finds companionship in someone other than Spike.
Rating: PG/FRT
Characters/Pairings: Giles/Anya, Xander/Anya, Anya, Giles, Buffy, Spike, Xander, Willow, Halfrek, mentions of Spike/Buffy
Notes: First two chapters of this include some other stuff happening because these four chapter are really the beginning of a longer story that I want to eventually finish. Still, I felt bad about spacing out about my post days and felt like I should put something up, even if it's just the start of a story.
-
“They’re all ‘oh, poor Xander! It took so much out of him, all that running away he did.’ I just don’t understand what’s wrong with these people.” Anya leaned on the shop counter and glowered at nothing.
Halfrek shook her head, unimpressed at how the newly re-empowered Anyanka was handling her situation. “Did you-”
“You know what?” She cut her off. “If I can’t have vengeance, other people are just going to have to make do with suffering horribly.”
Before Halfrek could ask her what she meant, the blonde vengeance demon teleported away. She stared at the spot her friend had been standing moments ago, irritated with the knowledge that whatever Anyanka was about to do, it would be gruesome. She was going to be accepted back into the fold almost immediately! Ever since Anyanka had lost her powers, Halfrek had been in good regard with D’Hoffryn. With that awful mood she was in, the blonde was bound to grant some nasty wishes. The vengeance demon knew she was about to get bounced back down to number two on the list again.
-
Buffy sighed, watching Xander as he paced back and forth through her kitchen. Their discovery of the camera, the rush to confront Spike, and falling back to home base with Willow had gone by too fast. The little walk to the graveyard and back had done nothing to the energy he had built up on seeing Anya. The ex-bride needed time alone though, Buffy could see it clearly, and she was sure Xander could too. Yet like he said, he wasn’t the type to wait around. The mystery of who was spying on Buffy would only be a small distraction to his larger inner turmoil problems.
“Hey,” Willow said, looking up from her laptop, face out of place in the room with its cheerfulness.
“Talk to me, Will.” Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, glad something had come from the tension.
“Technology's pretty sophisticated, lots of booby traps and firewall stuff…”
Xander stopped his pacing and turned to hard-core staring.
“But can you get us a location?” Buffy asked.
“Well, hey,” she mumbled, getting a pouty look on her face. “I’m still me. Just one- woah!”
“What?” She was out of her chair and hovering over the witch’s shoulder with Xander.
“There are other cameras.. oh my Goddess.”
They all watched in slight horror as the number of screens increased, showing how much of their lives was being watched. School, Buffy and Xander’s work… The Magic Box came up last, and Xander seemed to snarl when he saw it.
“What’s Spike doing there?”
The blonde vampire seemed content on ransacking the shelves, and despite the noise he was no doubt making, no one seemed to be going to investigate.
“Just going to ransack the place and steal while she’s not there?” Eyes set with a new focus for his energy and frustration, he marched for the door.
“Xander!” Buffy called after him.
“Go after him,” Willow urged. “I’ll do what I can tracing this.”
-
Poets were fascinating, she’d have to go looking for them more often. All it took was a simple ‘I wish’ followed by quite the dirty limerick. In D’Hoffryn’s name! She had forgotten how amusing mortals could be. Even though just a short while ago she had been one... Anya twirled her shot glass between her fingers, staring at it’s new found emptiness. At the moment she was testing the limits of her new demon gut, trying to find where drunk and stupid ran together. It was taking much longer than she wanted it to.
“Another round.”
The barman gave her a funny look, almost the same look her had given her when he had first heard her speak. Tourist generally didn’t find themselves into his place, but he poured her as generously as he did his regular patrons. Anya’s lips were parted in anticipation of the next drink, when a familiar voice made her jolt, sending the alcohol across the bar instead of down her throat. She swiveled around in her stool as she heard it again.
“Anya?” Giles looked only marginally more surprised than she did. “What’re you-? Are the others-?”
At the blasphemous mention of ‘the others’ she scowled at him, stopping his panicky thought process before it could leap any farther.
“Mr. Giles?” The vengeance demon’s eyes turned to the newcomer, a young brunette. “We’re heading out.” Her eyes traveled curiously between him and Anya.
“Go on ahead Helen,” he said, face settling into a frown as he stared at Anya. “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
With an unsatisfied frown on her face, Helen nodded that she understood and slipped out towards the pub’s exit, two others waiting for her at the door.
“Anya,” Giles began again, slower with a great deal more confusion on his face. “Is someone.. How did.. Why are you here?”
“What does it look like? I’m trying to get drunk.”
“Trying?” The barman grumbled, causing Anya to swivel back around and glare at him.
“He made me spill. Giles, you owe be a drink!”
“I have a better idea.” He stepped into argument quickly, breaking apart the staring match going on between her and the barman. “Why don’t we both get drunk somewhere else?” Giles put his hand on her arm, hoping to pull her off her seat gently, instead she yanked herself away form him and stood up on her own.
“Hey, you have to pay for that last round.”
A surprisingly large fistful of coins flew at the barman's face, and the old Watcher was running out of the pub behind Anya.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” he called after her, trying to keep up as she sprinted down the street.
He caught up when she stopped short, only to glare at him and say, “leave me alone.”
Giles gave her a sharp 'no' in response.
She crossed her arms and frowned at him.
“Please.” He started up with the patient, slightly worried voice again. “Just-”
“I’m here on my own. Everyone’s fine. Just happy and dandy in their world of Xander-love and leaving me out alone to suffer!” Anya didn’t care about the man’s confusion to her outburst, she just wanted to go out and find herself another poet. Someone who would say ‘I wish’ and read Xander’s body into torturous journey of rhyme and pain. She would have written things down more often if there had ever been a chance of them coming true.
When all she did was continue to glare into space, Giles tried a new tactic. If he was to get any information out of her, he needed her to at least start making sense- or stay around long enough until he understood her. “The offer for a drink… it’s still open.”
She blinked several times, pushing away her frustration to try and focus on the present. “Where?”
“My flat, it’s a few streets over if you don’t mind walking.”
“I don’t.”
As an awkward silence descended on them Giles took off his glasses and then nervously cleaned them on his shirttail. “Uhm.” He put the spectacles back on his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. “This way.” He was several steps ahead of her when she started following.
The silence between them didn’t last long. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“Why I’m here.”
“Well… I uh, figured you would tell me when it was more convenient for you.”
She harrumphed at his answer.
Giles sighed. “So why are you here?”
“There’s a young girl who wrote poetry about the bastard that left her. I felt inclined to make her writing come true.”
He stopped dead in his tracks as she spoke, and she took the several steps necessary to be standing at his side. She watched him with a sick-fascination, almost hoping he would react violently to the news. Of course, he had to simply look at her and say ‘Oh’. That disappointed her, so she wrapped her arms tighter around herself and began to march forward, even though she had no idea where she was going.
“There’s a turn up here,” he called after her.
Anya stopped walking again, infuriated by his calm. “Don’t you want to know?” she grumbled.
“Know what?”
He knew damn well what. “Why!” she shouted out. With him still a few feet behind, the cry had been directed more towards the night then him. “Don’t you want to know why?” It came out little more than a whisper.
“Only if you want me to.”
Anya jumped, having not heard the last few steps of his approach. She wasn’t used to this. Not after what happened, especially not before. “I was getting married.” That was a time when everyone wanted to know what was going on. Could they help? Was she nervous? Hungry? Was there anything she needed? “Married!” She practically screeched.
“I was aware of that engagement.” From the corner of her eye she could see the slight twitch of his lip, amusement sparked on some strange thought.
“I was there, God-damn it Giles, I was there!”
He was confused again.
“In the church, in the dress. In front of everyone! And where was he?” She felt his hand on her arm again, but this time she didn’t pull away. “He wasn’t there,” Anya spat.
“It’s past time for that drink.” She heard him sigh.
Wiping traitorous tears from her cheeks, she couldn’t agree more heartily.