Just Watching
by Windzweaver
They watch each other almost constantly now, but they aren't sleeping
together yet. Xander wouldn't do that to me.
It's only a matter of time, though.
Every step Spike takes forward Xander takes one back, but he's rapidly
running out of room. I'm not sure he even knows what's going on yet. He
only knows he can't stop watching Spike and Spike can't stop watching him.
All my life I've watched women in my position and thought that there wasn't
anything more pathetic. I mean let go already. No man's worth all that
pain and misery. But here I am clinging with all my strength to the very
last of what he will give me.
I don't want to lose him, but I can't keep him.
I can't protect him.
If I was still a demon....
Of course if I was still a demon then I'd only end up destroying what I
wanted to protect.
He's special, Xander is. He always thinks and acts with his heart first,
but even that isn't what makes him special. There's this part of him that's
so unique yet so much a part of the best of humanity.
And every demon in a hundred miles can smell it. Oh he's better at hiding
it now but it makes him almost as attractive as the hellmouth. Actually
this is probably the safest place on earth for him. If he wasn't in direct
competition with the power of the slayer and the hellmouth he would probably
have been snatched much sooner.
I was definitely demon enough to see it, and to want it. Why do you think I
stripped myself naked and practically forced him into a relationship. I got
him though, which is more then most demons can say.
I still don't want to give him up. He made this whole life livable.
D'offryns right I'd never make a vengeance demon again. I can't even work
up a decent head of anger against him.
I can't even stay mad at Spike.
The demon who's taking it all away from me.
The only thing I can say is that he better not hurt Xander.
Or he'll find out what an ex-vengeance demon can do, and it won't be pretty.
His warmth seeps into my side, warming my soul. I feel my head fall onto
his shoulder, and for the first time that night his gaze turns to me. "Are
you alright Anya?"
"Can we go home now? I'm tired of all this slaying stuff."
He looks at me with those endless chocolate eyes. A little ridge forming
between them. His arms gather me up. "Of course Anya." Those damn eyes
stray to Spike one last time as we make our farewells.
One last time.
One last night to warm my soul with his fire, and then I'll set him free. I
wonder what he'll say when I tell him to go make orgasms with Spike.
END
