SquidgeWorld Archive

Thanks for Farah for the great quick beta!

"Hey, Xander, this fruit punch is *great* you should try it!" Anya said, her lips still wrapped around the tip of the straw. Slurping, she blinked when Xander chuckled waving her off on his way to answer the ringing phone.

"Xander and Anya's house of fuity punch goodness!" he said cheerfully into the receiver. Soon after the person on the other end started talking he frowned. "Wills? Willow, slow down... wha...?"

Anya watched entranced as the expressions changed on her boyfriend's face. She saw him nod monotonously, his lips set in a straight line. She opened her mouth to ask what Willow was telling him, but he spoke before she could.

"We'll come over."

She waited for him to say more but that was all he said. Even the expressions had stopped. Her tiny brows twisted. She stood up from her seat and walked over. Easily, she released the phone from his slaking grip.

Anya put the phone to her ear but then pulled it back, scowling at the dial tone.

"Xan...?" Before she could ask him what Willow had wanted, her voice choked for when she looked at the tall brunet she could see tears streaming down his face.

She watched his face as she replaced the receiver. There was no indication to what happened. She felt puzzled, and not a little angry at Willow for upsetting Xander.

There was nothing he could say. Xander looked at Anya and was confused... helpless, as her lips soundlessly moved. Could Anya not hold her mouth shut? At least she didn't feel the need to omit sound with incessant movement.

Anya was scared. Why wasn't Xander answering her? Could he not hear her? Willow was always getting in the way of their happy time. Now the icy fruit punch was making her hands numb.

She felt a cold shiver of fear run through her when the only movement from his direction was the slow trek of silent tear after another. Even his chest didn't show any sign of rise or fall.

Panic started to build. Maybe she should call someone. Buffy could kill whatever turned Xander's mind into mush.

Nevertheless, Anya couldn't move. She was frozen at the sight of tears in sluggish movement down Xander's emotion free face. Was somewhat mystified at the sight; never had she thought she would see Xander weep, even silently. He had never struck her as the sort that would.

She gasped in shock when all of a sudden Xander sprinted into rapid movement. He had picked up his keys, his coat and opened the apartment door in less than five seconds.

Anya opened her mouth in a lunge to question his actions and what had led to them. Maybe this time he would actually listen.

"Ahn..."

Xander looked down at the doorknob his hand was clutching. He pressed his lips in concentration. His gaze slowly took inventory of his home, before settling on his girlfriend. His girlfriend who was standing in the middle of their living room, looking back at him with concern, worry and not a little fear, still holding on to her drink.

His lips moved and his face contracted. He took a deep breath and coughed a little, his throat hurt as did his lungs, but he didn't know why that was.

Anya blinked at him. Waiting.

"Joyce died." That didn't sound right. There wasn't even the expected gradual lead to it. That must be the reason to why Anya was looking at him not knowing what to say, even her lips stopped moving in an open gap. He tried again. "Buffy's mom passed away." Still didn't seem right. Maybe Willow could help him explain it better. Maybe Willow could help explain it to him... she hadn't stop crying on the phone. "We need to go pick up Willow and Tara."

There, that made more sense. They always went places in his car. Nothing unusual about that, which Anya seemed to get. At least her mouth was not wide open anymore. He wondered why she kept on looking at his cheeks. She opened her mouth again, probably to ask what to wear to such a thing. What else would she ask?

Anya asked. Xander kept on staring dumbly at her as if he couldn't understand what she was saying. That he couldn't hear the words being spoken. His mind was already in a jumble of emotions, trying to find reason to it all.

"You're good to go." He wiped at his mouth. The air conditioner must be out. Which made sense since it was cold out. "The girls are waiting." Xander couldn't think. But he could drive. He went to get the keys from their usual place. He frowned. They weren't there. He turned to Anya feeling his anger rise. He never liked it when she moved the car keys. He was taken back when she appeared right in front of him, a strange look on her face, one he had never seen before. She placed her small hand on his wrist and he opened it instinctively. There lay the keys.

Anya smiled sadly but didn't say anything. He was grateful. He didn't know what he might do if he heard her voice. He might do something stupid like cry. So he let her do what she wanted if it meant she wouldn't talk. He didn't even question why she was wiping the sweat on his face. She had always mentioned how she found it very masculine and increasing of his sexual attractiveness. But he guessed she thought it would be unseemly to appear all manly in front of the others in these circumstances.

Xander seemed to have finally stopped crying. Anya wondered if he was aware of that, of anything. Although, he seemed relentless about one thing.

"The girls need a ride..." to somewhere. He didn't know if Willow had mentioned wherever or not. He wasn't sure that even if she had done so, he would have been able to hear her over the sobbing or would have been capable of moving through the pressure that had rushed into his ears as 'the words' had left her mouth. He had always prepared himself for a phone call, such as this, about one of them. But not her. Never her. She was constant.

It sounded like ocean waves in his head.

Ocean waves were of good things. They were of the Scooby beach party. Of the basket laden with all his favorite dishes that Joyce had personally packed.

There had to be an explanation.

Why was Anya's mouth still moving like that? Shouldn't sound come out? Something other than the waves. He would now prefer her erratic woven words to the sound that flushed away good memories.

Yet, something still aware inside was telling Xander maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Anya had lost her ability of speech.

Did Xander lose his sense of hearing?

He continued to look at her in a befuddled manner.

Why wasn't Xander explaining this to her? Anya felt herself pout.

He was supposed to be her boyfriend. All strong and masculine, take her hand and show her the human ways. Xander wasn't supposed to cry, much less seem so at a loss.

She felt mortal, scared and alone. Xander just stood there not talking. Why wasn't her boyfriend answering her? Explaining why this was happening? What was expected of her? Why did it hurt? What was she to do to make it stop hurting?

And *why* did nice people have to die?

She didn't understand.

Xander still would not answer her. He was looking at the keys like they held the answers she was looking for.

"Oh, God, we mustn't keep the girls waiting." He looked around for his coat. Oh, wait, it was slung over his arm, right. With a firm nod he exited through the open door.

Anya closed her eyes with a sigh. She took a short detour to get her sweater. Her heart thumping fast, her mind overflowed with emotion and eyes burning while she was sure they were not doing that before. The door closed behind her as she followed Xander.

It clicked.

The apartment stood still in silence after the residences' departure. The wooden door suddenly reopened. Anya, with quick steps, headed towards the kitchen, placed the fruit punch in the fridge then ran out again barely closing the door behind her with a frantic slam.

The End...