Solving the Puzzle
(The Crazy Couple Remix)

Author: Beth C.

Original Story: Word Games by Elena

Summary: Xander tries to figure things out.

Rating: PG

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

She's staring at me.

She won't stop staring at me.

It's almost like she thinks she can will me awake or that she has laser beams coming out of her eyes and they will burn a hole into me before I wake up. She doesn't want to wake me up on purpose, because she knows work has been really rough lately. But the sad thing is that while she thinks she is being as quiet as a mouse, I can't sleep anymore without her wheezing. It's like white noise for me, lulling me to sleep.

If it stops, I worry that maybe she's run off and decided D'Hoffryn is where she belongs. But for now, she's staring at me and I can pretend I'm still asleep, because soon she'll roll over and fall back asleep.

I always worry that I'll wake up one day and she won't be there. I worry that she'll get bored with me, since I can never figure out why she likes me or men in general. Anya might've dedicated herself to causing pain to all men, but that was because back then it was simple. Men were all monsters, and she was the slayer. Now she's human and things don't work the same. Thing can't be just black and white, and she still really doesn't understand the way the male mind works.

She doesn't understand why a ring-ding is always better then a chocolate souffle, or why my socks never end up in the hamper, and she definitely doesn't understand why I think the Marx Brothers are funny.

Anya doesn't understand that Groucho or Chico are brothers despite their different accents, or why Zeppo wasn't more popular, or why Harpo never talked. But I catch her giggling when Harpo squeezes his horn, plus she was always a sucker for a harp.

If I played a stringed instrument I would never worry about her leaving. She gets so calm and serene when she listens to anything involving a cello. She's learning how to play now, because I got her lessons. I don't understand how she could live for centuries and never take up an instrument she loves so much. Then again, I don't really understand why she likes them. Especially since she cursed this guy who's wife said he loved his violin more then he loved her, and that she wished his phallic symbol was literally a phallus.

I never thought the day would come where I would remember her curses.

She's still staring.

Something must be wrong and she's just not saying. I can just tell when she's worried. She worries so much and it's my job to help. But I don't even know how to help her sometimes. She won't even tell me most of the hurt she suffers. There are some days out of the year where she walks around in a daze. They used to be celebrations with D'Hoffryn cheering and celebrating her massacres. Now they are quiet days of tears and slow whispers about things that have passed.

That's it, if she's not going to stop staring, I'm not going to pretend snoring. Maybe if I roll over on my side I can pretend that I'm back in my bed alone and she's not glaring a hole into my head.

I'm so mean to her sometimes. I treat her like a child, or like a fool, or like a burden. I treat her the way my father used to treat me and when I see her hang her head in shame I remember I'm not good enough for her. She was a goddess worshipped by thousands and I am so tiny compared to her.

I hope I don't screw it up. I think of my Mom, and I cringe. I don't want her to be some sad gray-haired woman regretting each day lived as a human. If I hurt her, I think she might go back to the underworld and curse me again.

I don't know what the curse would be, but I don't think it could be worse then losing her forever.

"Xander."

"Xander!"

I guess things got to bad to get through alone. I wish she had woken me up when she first started to worry. I don't like to see her upset.

I like it when she snuggles close to me, and I can smell her hair. She uses the nicest shampoo.

I also like feeling her against me. Soft skin covered by even softer fabric. I'll never understand how someone so skinny can still be so soft.

She wants me to play some silly game but I think something else would be better.

I think she stays because we fit so well together. Not just the interlocking parts, but everything. We're both so fragile, so desperate to find that perfect happiness.

When I'm with her, I never want to close my eyes. I don't want to miss one smile, one frown, or even that look she gives me when she knows I wasn't paying attention.

I don't want to miss anything. I finally love every moment I live.

"Don't stop, Don't ever stop."

"Never, Anya. I will never stop."

End

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