Summary: Xander thinks about some things in his life.
Spoilers: Pretty much everything up until now.
Disclaimer: Joss made the characters. I like to play with their lives.
Rating: PG13
Everyone, a big hand for Tracy, the best beta reader of all. :)
It's funny, the things that you remember through your life.
I remember the first time I met my best friend. We were three then, so
really I shouldn't, but I do. The way she smelled, powdery, and the color of
her hair and her smile... These things all stand out sharply in my head.
As soon as I met her, I knew... A lot of things. Knew how I would never feel
alone again, as long as she was with me. Knew how important she'd become in
my life. Knew that I would always love her. I saw, right away, the kind of
person that she was. She had this amazing heart, even when we were toddlers.
We grew up together all ways but one... She was my first kiss, and I was
hers-- of course, it doesn't seem to matter now that we were trying to learn
*how* to kiss, and that we were practicing on each other; we were only nine
at the time-- and we learned about the demons of the world on the same night.
We comforted each other, made each other laugh, made each other cry, worried
for one another and loved each other for so many years it all seems like this
one long blur of a great friendship.
I remember the first time I talked to Buffy, too. We were in the hallway and
she dropped her backpack and I took the opportunity to help her pick her
things up and managed to make a total ass of myself in the process. But
since the second time I talked to her, I haven't regretted how stupid I
sounded. I haven't regretted knowing her, being a part of her life, being
friends with her.
Not for a single minute.
She was my savior, my hero, and my little sister all at the same time. Okay,
yeah, sometimes I thought she could be more-- sometimes I even thought that
*she* thought she could be more to me, but that all faded with time. The
second day I knew her, I trusted her totally with my life and my friendship.
After I stopped thinking I was in love with her, I trusted her with my heart.
I remember my second kiss with Cordelia. Not so much the first one, because
that seems sort of unreal, even now. But the second one there was no
denying. Telling her that she made my skin crawl and hearing her say
something in return, for some reason, made my blood boil with lust. And it
wasn't as if she wasn't beautiful anyway. Then we were kissing, all hands
and mouths and ragged breath and it was more than I'd ever imagined on those
rare occasions when I fantasized about her while alone in my room.
She was a good girlfriend, too. She would have denied it, of course, and
probably still would to this day, but when she wasn't bitching at me and when
I wasn't thinking she was crazy, we got along really well. She showed a soft
side to me that I think not too many people got to see; not just in the
darkness of eraser rooms and janitors closets, but on the dates we went to,
and when we were driving somewhere in her car talking, and when she held my
hand in public.
The last one, especially, amazes me to this day. That she acknowledged me at
all when we weren't alone was a cause for celebration. She was good to me.
Most of the time.
I remember a particular day when Giles talked to me. It was right after
Angel had killed Miss Calendar, and I was watching Buffy with concern. She'd
seemed so tired in those weeks, like all of the energy she was showing was
just fake. There were always shadows in her eyes and I tried to make it go
away as often as I could with a joke or a touch, but more often than not, it
didn't work.
One day, when we were alone in the library, Giles turned to me and said, "I'm
trusting you to watch over her, Xander. I can see it in you, that you love
her, and so I'm trusting you to make sure that she's careful, and safe, and
that she doesn't do anything to hurt herself."
His eyes... I remember how soft his eyes looked, shining with worry over
Buffy and complete faith that I would do what he asked, even though I had
less faith in myself that I would be able to. He waited in the quiet for my
response, a sort of serious smile on his lips and I didn't know what to say.
So I just nodded and muttered something like, "I promise. Thanks."
He nodded back and resumed looking through his books and the moment was over.
Only it wasn't, really, because although there have been a lot of times when
I've known totally that Giles cares about me and even loves me, that *one*
time is the thing that jumps out in my mind. That one day, minute, second,
where he was giving me a part of the most important thing in his life,
handing it over and telling me that he knew he could count on me to watch
over it.
I remember when I danced with Anya at the prom. It was the first time all
night that she finally-- *finally*-- got quiet and just settled in my arms,
real close. She sighed and her breath smelled minty, and when I set my chin
on the top of her head, her hair smelled like apples. She was an all-around
good-smelling girl.
She kissed me on the cheek when I took her home that night, and she seemed
softer than she had ever before. Her eyes were big and I think she was
waiting for me to kiss her on the mouth, but since I wasn't sure, I didn't.
Finally she unlocked the door and went inside and I stood there for a minute,
wondering why all of the sudden she didn't seem so evil.
My favorite memory of Anya is our first Halloween together, when she was
dressed up in that giant bunny suit and as soon as Giles chain-sawed the
attic door down, she came flying into my arms, my name coming from her throat
in a breath-shout. That was when I first realized that I could really like
her, that I already did like her.
That damn stupid bunny suit. She's still afraid of bunnies.
I remember the day we buried Buffy like it was yesterday. The day she died
is sort of strange in my head; I keep that at bay. But the day we buried her
still hurts to think about.
It was bright outside, and I hated that-- why should the sky be allowed to
look that good while something so awful was happening? And Giles said a sort
of a prayer and we all put flowers on the fresh grass and that was when I
finally cried. Not when she died, not for a few days after, but that
tombstone... That was what made it real for me. Buffy Anne Summers. Beloved
Sister and Devoted Friend.
That was when I cried.
It was just too hard, knowing that she was under all of the dirt and grass
and inside something that she would never get out of. I cried for a long
time, and heard Willow's voice, saying soft things in my ear as she held me.
Finally, though, she slipped away and I was left with Anya, who comforted me
more than I ever gave her credit for.
She stroked my hand and my face and we stayed there, long after everyone had
left, at the foot of Buffy's grave. We laid down and she guided my head
until it rested on her chest and I could hear her heartbeat, and then she
sort of lazily drew her fingers through my hair, over and over, telling me
that it would be okay. And I clutched at her, and sobbed until my stomach
heaved, but she was calm, and sweet, and impossibly tender.
If I hadn't already planned on loving her forever, that day would have made
me.
I remember the haunted look in Buffy's eyes after we brought her back from
the dead. I kept wondering what had happened to her there, in Hell, that
would give her that look. Now, of course, I know the truth... That it was
here, this, us, who put that look into her eyes, but then I was sure it had
been her previous pain. I had been sure that we were saving her.
She was so quiet, for months afterward, and her jokes fell flat and her smile
didn't seem real and we were all so worried about her, especially after we
found out where she'd been. But she dealt. She took it all in and after a
long time, let it all out, like she always did. She's not the same, will
never be the same, but she's strong in the same ways, and I'm glad for that.
I remember when I first found out about her and Spike. I was leaving the
Bronze to catch up with Anya after a fight and stopped in mid-stride because
there they were, in an alley, kissing. I always seemed to be the one to
catch Buffy kissing vampires.
But what surprised me most wasn't the kiss itself. Most people could have
seen that coming, what with the way they'd been acting around each other for
the previous year, fighting and then sending long, silent looks to one
another that they thought no one noticed. And, okay, so I didn't really
notice *at the time*, but in retrospect it was really clear.
So the kiss didn't surprise me as much as maybe it should have. It was the
*way* they were kissing. It was soft and sweet and kind of languid, like
they had all night. One of his hands was on her jaw, holding her face gently
in place, and her arms were around his neck, holding him close, pressing
herself against him.
I guess why it shocked me so badly was because if I'd had to contemplate them
being together, I would have seen it differently in my mind. Something rough
and tangly. Vampire and Slayer strength combined. But it wasn't like that
at all. It was almost like they were making a point to be gentle and sweet
to each other, like it was an effort, even though it looked pretty effortless
to me.
I finally stopped staring and continued on my mission to catch up with Anya.
I didn't ever say anything about that night, not to anyone. I figured that
her being with him might have been one of the reasons Buffy didn't seem so
sad and tired anymore, that maybe he was helping her with that, and all I
could be was happy that she finally was again. So I didn't want to begrudge
her that, or her privacy, in the way I had done before.
It didn't really matter that I didn't tell anyone, because a few months
later, Buffy and Spike just blurted it out in front of the group, that they
were dating, and no one was angry. Or even seemed to care very much about
it, other than they saw how Buffy-like Buffy was again.
I remember the day I married Anya.
It was in March and she was beautiful, in a white dress and long sleeves and
a pouffy skirt down to her feet. I don't know too much about clothes,
especially clothes for women, but I've never seen her look better, before or
since. The service... I don't really remember that part, but I remember
kissing her and our first dance, and how tightly my friends hugged me later.
Buffy seemed like she didn't want to let me go, and Willow cried some, but it
was a good day. One of my best.
Anya threatened to get vengeance on me if I shoved the cake into her mouth
and made a mess, so I placed a small bite on her tongue very delicately and
when it was her turn... She shoved the cake into my mouth and made a mess,
shrieking with laughter when I chased her afterwards. When I finally caught
her, I gave her a long, deep kiss, and managed to get at least half of that
mess all over her face as well, but she let me.
Hell, she even kissed me back.
Those are just some of the things that I remember... The things that stayed
fresh in my mind even though years-- and in some cases, decades-- have
passed. The kind of things that stay with a person through everything they
go through in their life, the kind of memories that I hold onto, that connect
me to everything and everyone.
But there are other things... Things that, no matter how hard I try, I can't
remember. Things forgotten because of time or just because it was too hard
to think of them.
Like, I can't think of those last few minutes of Anya's labor before our
daughter was born. It was something important, the most important thing, and
I can't remember it. Could be because I was busy going in an out of
consciousness at the time-- I should have taken the doctor's advice and stood
by her head-- but I know that when I *was* awake, I saw some things and a
person shouldn't forget what it was like when their first child comes into
the world.
And, I've forgotten what Giles said when he informed me that she was going to
be a Slayer. I mean, I know that it happened... But I forget how it did. I
don't remember anything of that conversation, other than that I yelled
something and broke something but I don't know what. I remember clearly
laying awake that night contemplating it, how impossible it all seemed...
Like we had paid our debt to society, and we shouldn't have to give up our
baby, who was just learning to put sentences together, so that she could
fight evil and die before she was twenty. I remember being slightly
comforted by the fact that Buffy was still around and could teach her, guide
her, but mostly I remember the pain.
Anya wasn't too thrilled about it either, but strangely, accepted it better
than I had. Maybe because she was over a thousand years old.
And I can't remember the look in Willow's eyes when she died. It was only
four months ago, when the magick she'd been using suddenly overpowered her,
and at the time, I thought that I would never forget that look, but now I
have. After just four months. Her head was in my lap and she said that she
was sorry as I brushed her hair away from her bloodstained face. Her skin
was slick with the blood but she was so beautiful in that moment, even
looking as torn-up as she did.
But I forget the look in her eyes.
And that hurts.
I wanted to be something more for Willow... A better friend, a better person,
someone who could have convinced her that she was using her magick wrongly
even when her own girlfriend couldn't. But I wasn't that person, and I can't
go back and make it right.
But I'm going to be okay, with time.
That's another thing that I've forgotten: the moment when I knew I would be
okay. Willow died, and wanted to too, but I would be okay. I had a wife,
and a daughter and friends that I loved and I would live through it.
But I don't know when exactly I realized that.
Some of the things that I remember, I wish I could forget. And some of the
things I forget are the things I'd most like to remember. It's all right,
though. Everyone suffers these sorts of memory lapses, I think.
I'm pretty sure the point is just to take what you can and tuck it away in
your mind and whether or not it's good or bad, you have it there so you can
go back and think about it and maybe learn from it.
I'll never stop wishing that I could see the look in Willow's eyes as she
died, or wishing I could forget the look on Cordelia's face when she saw me
kissing Willow.
But memories like that make me the man I am, the man that my wife loves and
my kid adores and my friends lean on.
And hey, I sort of like him too.
The End
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