NOTE: "Taking Up The Slack" follows my earlier Knight Consort fic "Be All You Can Be" and "Old Wounds."
Thanks to Slashcat and Dave for their beta reading endeavours.
*****
"Taking Up The Slack" 2/3
Don Bentley
Xander stood before his apartment door and thought about sleeping in the car.
God, how could he have so badly misjudged Willow's reaction? Far from being pleased with his progress, or even proud of him, she had been absolutely furious. She was so seriously pissed at him that she even snapped at Tara when she had tried to defend him. At Tara! In the end Willow was almost speechless with rage. Finally he just left, promising to be at the shop in the morning if she wanted to talk. If she still wanted to yell at him though, well, she needn't bother showing up. She'd been mad at him before, but nothing compared to this. It had been hard for him to turn and walk away from her, but he was getting nowhere, and to be fair, Anya deserved to be the first to know. It had been his plan all along to tell her first. No matter what the consequences he owed her that much at least.
The problem was that while he'd always figured that he would have the most trouble with Anya, if he'd been able to get Willow that mad at him he really didn't want to see what Anya's reaction was going to be. Anya could very well get medieval on him. Unfortunately, Anya had medieval down to an art form.
Aww, Hell. Faint heart, fair hand, and all that.
Pretending to be braver than he felt, Xander fished out his keys and entered the apartment.
The lights were on. All of them, even the string of Christmas lights over the balcony doors that he'd been meaning to take down. Not good. Ordinarily Anya preferred far less lighting. Having spent most of her life pre-Edison, she could get by with just a single candle or small lamp, but for Anya light was like comfort food, and when she was upset, or angry, she would turn on every one in the place.
His books, his training library, littered the kitchen table. SEAL Combat Manual, the US Army Special Forces Medical Handbook, Long Range Patrol Operations, Special Forces Operational Techniques, EMT Field Procedures, Sniper Operations, the SCA Battle Manual, and even his set of Frank Miller's Batman Year One.
The rest of his kit, the stuff he had thought he had hidden in the storage locker, was laid out on the floor. The Ghillie suit and spotter scope. The climbing rope, harness, carbiners, ascenders, and grappling hook. The sound amplifier and headset. The sword and battle-axe.
His trauma bag.
Anya stood in front of the couch.
The sight almost broke his heart. God, Anya was lovely. She was wearing her sheer white silk nightie and dressing gown. They had been his welcoming gift when she moved in with him. With a pang of guilt he saw that her hair was up in ribbons. Ordinarily that was his job. Before bed he'd brush her hair, and tie it up with ribbons. It was part of their ritual, and he couldn't remember the last time he had put ribbons in her hair.
Her expression was unreadable. She had been crying though, her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks damp. Xander set his equipment bag down, and closed the door.
"You're okay?" she spoke first. Her voice was flat and emotionless, as unreadable as her expression.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"How did it go?" He had thought of lying, of downplaying the risks, but there had been enough lies between them.
"Two vamps. Both poofed."
"When were you going to tell me?"
"Now. Tonight. Once I was sure that I could...." he trailed off. His grand plan now silly and ludicrous against her reaction. God, he'd fucked this up huge.
"Sure you could what?"
"Help. Help Buffy. I wanted her to have someone watching her back. Helping," he finished lamely. Damn you Harris, if you've lost her over this....
Xander had thought himself ready for any possible reaction. Ready for silence, or for shouting, for anger, betrayal, rage, and disappointment. He had thought that he could withstand her accusations, her curses, and threats. Sworn that he'd not raise a hand in self-defence, not against Anya. He was prepared to take anything she could throw at him.
Except what came next.
With a soft shaky sigh, Anya fell back onto the couch, her face buried
in her hands, and her body shaking as the sobbing started.
For a long instant Xander watched Anya weep before dropping to both
knees before her and pulling her into his arms. Holding her tight,
he prayed for the strength to protect her. For always, and from everything,
especially from himself.
"Ahn. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean... God, I'm sorry."
Still crying, she shook her head and gently pulled back out of his arms, before reaching out and tenderly taking his face in her hands as she slipped off the couch and knelt with him.
"I love you, Xander Harris."
Tears he had at least expected, even if he had woefully underestimated their power, but a declaration of love? By now he was so completely confused. Nothing was going the way he'd thought it would, and nothing made sense.
Fighting sniffles, Anya giggled at his confused expression, and leaned in to kiss him and in her turn pull him into her arms. He could feel her tears against his cheek and the heat of her whispered words in his ear.
"I love you so much."
His fears gave way to the nervous release of laughter, until, his emotional control stretched and broken he began to cry, which started Anya all over again. So they stayed like that for a while. In each other's arms, as the sound of their tears, of their relief, filled the apartment.
*****
After the tears had stopped, Anya and Xander sat there for a while, and held each other. Content that, for that moment at least, they could protect each other, and pretend that there was no darkness, that there were no monsters, and that they were alone together.
For a little while it worked. For a little while they fooled themselves. They were grateful for that time together, but eventually they had to set it aside and face their real world. The one with the dark and the monsters.
Anya insisted on inspecting him for wounds, and ignored his protests as she pulled off his clothing. A fair size bruise was developing on his right shin where he kicked the second vamp, but that was all. Satisfied that he was okay, Anya went about the apartment turning off the lights before returning to Xander to lead him gently by the hand into their bedroom.
The single candle on the dresser bathed the room with its warm glow, and more than anything else so far, reassured Xander that Anya was, well, that she was all right with this. It was still inexplicable to him, but he didn't doubt it any more.
"Sit with me," Anya asked, climbing onto the bed and patting the mattress in front of her.
"Don't, please," she said as he reached for his pj bottoms. Dropping them he joined her, sitting cross-legged in front of her.
After a long moment's silence, she kissed him and lightly ran her fingertips down over his body. Dancing them over the familiar contours, taking the time to reassure herself that he was well.
"How could you have thought I wouldn't see the bruises?" she whispered. "I sleep with you, we shower together, and I make love to you. I love you Xander, but love isn't that blind."
"Shhhh," she said a finger to his lips when he tried to answer.
"I knew that you'd been training, working out, and was happy at first, 'cause, well, more muscles, but then I found a book you'd left out, something about seals, and I looked at it because I like seals, only it wasn't about real seals, it was about soldiers who called themselves seals. Which doesn't make any sense. But I realized that that's why you had been working out, so you could be a soldier, and since Riley had left, I thought that you were going to join the Army too, but then I remembered that you have a lease and can't leave. So then I thought that you were training to help Buffy, like Riley was, and that got me upset too because Riley helped Buffy because he was in love with her, and maybe that's why you wanted to help Buffy, but Buffy and you never kissed or anything so I don't have to worry about that. I shouldn't have thought that, but it's hard, because I look at you sometimes, and wonder how I got so lucky...."
She stopped for a breath before continuing.
"I wanted to tell you to stop, make you quit. I was so afraid that you'd get hurt, or.... I still have the nightmares, and you're just lying there on the floor, not moving."
The tears started to flow again, and Xander reached over to wipe them away. Anya wasn't finished yet, so he stayed silent. She smiled at him, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"But that's just a nightmare, and they're not real. And when I have my nightmares you hold me and help me get back to sleep, and when you have yours I hold you," she said as she brushed lightly at his hair. She liked it long.
"You've faced worse, the Mayor's Ascension, and Angel, and... and everything, and you're still here. So I think that all the extra training means that you'll be here a lot longer. Be with me for a lot longer. Forever," Anya took a deep breath before finishing. "So I won't try to stop you. I won't try to talk you out of it, because that's what you do. You help Buffy, and Willow, and Giles fight the vampires. Because you are a hero, and that's what heroes do."
Anya smiled and kissed him on the tip of his nose.
"But I'll stay frightened. A lot. And I'll help, because that's what we do. We help each other."
With that Anya took a white silk ribbon from her hair. She kissed it and tied it around Xander's right bicep. "Noblewomen used to tie their favours to their champion's armour before battle. You're my champion, Xander. My knight in shining armour. And I am so in love with you."
Having said everything that she needed to say Anya shrugged off her dressing gown, gathered up the hem of her nightie in her hands, and with one sinuous motion, drew it off over her head. Wearing just her perfume and the ribbons in her hair, she slipped into Xander's lap and proved it.
*****