Always Anya -- by Cagewench


Rating: PG

Description: A short piece about Anya.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, nor do I profit from them... All hail Joss Whedon, God of the Buffyverse and thank him for allowing us to use his creations.


It was 6 a.m. and she stretched like a cat in a ray of sunlight. Purring contentedly, she nuzzled her sleeping boyfriend. Xander was so cute when he slept, snuggling up to her and murmuring her name in whispers while he dreamt. Sure, he sometimes still have issues with her having been a demon for over 1100 years, like the time she'd ruined his favourite meal by regaling him with the tale of exactly what she had done to a man named Joe who had cheated on his pregnant wife. He'd been more than merely sloppy when she'd been done with him... Xander didn't like that story. He didn't really like any of her stories. She sat up and frowned. What did Xander like about her? Excluding all the sex. Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of what he'd said to her about their relationship. About loving her, but he had never explained how he felt.

Anya drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she cried silently. She was still like that, rocking slightly, when Xander awoke.

"Anya, what's wrong, kitten?" He moved closer to her, drawing her into his warmth, "Talk to me."

"Talk? Talk to you? Why don't you talk to me? I don't know how you feel or why you're with me. And you don't even know me, we've been together for awhile and never once have you asked to walk me home, or if I even have a home. All you know about me is that I am a former demon and a bit of a nymphomaniac when it comes to you, Alexander Harris."

She began to sob in earnest.

"Anya, honey, kitten, love. Please don't cry," he paused to smooth her hair, "I know that you are honest and very, very blunt and I love that about you. You're beautiful and intelligent and I am the luckiest guy around to have someone as unique as you to love."

She began to smile through her tears, but stopped.

"Xander, what's my middle name?"

His expression revealed how stricken he felt.

"My last name?"

He shrugged, "It doesn't matter to me. What's in a name? Isn't that what Hamlet said?"

"It was in Romeo and Juliet, and it should matter. How can you love me without knowing who I am?"

"I just do. Damn it, Anya. I just do. Accept it, don't question it.

I am yours and I want you to always be my Anya. Former demon and loving girlfriend. My little sex kitten, my best friend."

"Willow's your best friend."

"No, you are. Willow and I grew apart, and we'll never stop being friends but you are my best friend. You are the only one who accepts me as I am and loves me without wanting me to change or thinking I'm not good enough."

"Xander, you're always good enough, always the best. And I love the funny way your hair looks in the morning."

He looked deep into her incredible eyes. He'd never noticed how beautiful they were before, and they sat there for a silent moment, reading each other's hearts and souls. Anya looked away first, a flush on her cheeks. She knew that he meant it.

She threw herself onto him and they laid in the bed while she cried.

"I've never been so happy," she thought as he rubbed her back and murmured endearments while his lips brushed her sensitive earlobe.

The End

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