Now Say Friend Like You Mean It
Fandom: Buffy
Canon Compliancy: Season 7.
Character: Anya
Genre: Drama
Rating: R
Word Count: ~440
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
AN: Italicized lines borrowed from “Hell’s Bells,” “Lessons,” and “Him.”
Written for still_grrr's prompt Anya and posted there. How Anya thinks of friendship those final weeks of Season 7.
Award winner - details here.
“I get to be with my best friend forever! Yay!”
As he moves over her, in her, the lingering taste of ice cream still sweet on her tongue, she realizes that this is truly the last time.
That previous time on the cot, she thought it’d been the last time - and it had been, the last time of their relationship, their love.
Her vertebrae scrape a bit on the linoleum with each thrust, and she knows that this is a bigger ending. This is the last time of Xander for her, the last time of scratching that mutual itch she thought was all that existed between them in the very beginning.
This? This is the last time of friends.
Her knees spread further apart to let him deeper, and she presses her heels into his ass to urge him on.
They don’t kiss once they're done.
“Well, what is this - an intervention? Shouldn’t all my demon friends be here?”
“Sweetie … they are.”
The dream replays nightly now.
Halfrek looks at her, Anya’s name and a smile simultaneously gracing her lips so that there can be no doubt that the two are associated. As this quickly alters to burning flesh and a scream, Anya jerks awake.
Shifting on the small pallet, fighting to calm her harsh breathing, she’s careful to keep from kneeing the Potential to her left. Not that she cares about the girl - truth be told, she doesn’t even know her name - but she doesn’t want to meet the other’s uncaring stare.
Hallie was the only person Anya can remember ever looked at her with the eyes of a friend.
“I don’t want my friends alone out there right now, okay?”
The annoying little monkey is the only person who really talks to her these days.
Buffy brought her to the house on Revello Drive, but it’s not as if that means anything when the place is packed three deep with strangers.
Anya walks into the kitchen to see Buffy quickly exit out the other door. After giving a half-hearted smile, Willow buries her nose further into a magicks book, teetering a bit on her stool as she abruptly jerks the text closer. Three miscellaneous Potentials look up from where they’re gathered around the stove to turn back to one another in a whispered conversation.
Rooting through the cabinet, Poptarts the quickest thing she can find, Anya grabs the last foil packet from the box and rips it open. Strawberry. Good. Strawberry she can eat without toasting.
And if she dithers long enough eating the first one, Andrew will surely whine for the second.
Canon Compliancy: Season 7.
Character: Anya
Genre: Drama
Rating: R
Word Count: ~440
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
AN: Italicized lines borrowed from “Hell’s Bells,” “Lessons,” and “Him.”
Written for still_grrr's prompt Anya and posted there. How Anya thinks of friendship those final weeks of Season 7.
Award winner - details here.
“I get to be with my best friend forever! Yay!”
As he moves over her, in her, the lingering taste of ice cream still sweet on her tongue, she realizes that this is truly the last time.
That previous time on the cot, she thought it’d been the last time - and it had been, the last time of their relationship, their love.
Her vertebrae scrape a bit on the linoleum with each thrust, and she knows that this is a bigger ending. This is the last time of Xander for her, the last time of scratching that mutual itch she thought was all that existed between them in the very beginning.
This? This is the last time of friends.
Her knees spread further apart to let him deeper, and she presses her heels into his ass to urge him on.
They don’t kiss once they're done.
“Well, what is this - an intervention? Shouldn’t all my demon friends be here?”
“Sweetie … they are.”
The dream replays nightly now.
Halfrek looks at her, Anya’s name and a smile simultaneously gracing her lips so that there can be no doubt that the two are associated. As this quickly alters to burning flesh and a scream, Anya jerks awake.
Shifting on the small pallet, fighting to calm her harsh breathing, she’s careful to keep from kneeing the Potential to her left. Not that she cares about the girl - truth be told, she doesn’t even know her name - but she doesn’t want to meet the other’s uncaring stare.
Hallie was the only person Anya can remember ever looked at her with the eyes of a friend.
“I don’t want my friends alone out there right now, okay?”
The annoying little monkey is the only person who really talks to her these days.
Buffy brought her to the house on Revello Drive, but it’s not as if that means anything when the place is packed three deep with strangers.
Anya walks into the kitchen to see Buffy quickly exit out the other door. After giving a half-hearted smile, Willow buries her nose further into a magicks book, teetering a bit on her stool as she abruptly jerks the text closer. Three miscellaneous Potentials look up from where they’re gathered around the stove to turn back to one another in a whispered conversation.
Rooting through the cabinet, Poptarts the quickest thing she can find, Anya grabs the last foil packet from the box and rips it open. Strawberry. Good. Strawberry she can eat without toasting.
And if she dithers long enough eating the first one, Andrew will surely whine for the second.