Shop-worn Angel

Dedicated to Barbara a.k.a. zanthinegirl on the occasion of her birthday

Her head rested against the rain-soaked glass, the water sweeping the window matching the tear tracks on her cheeks. She couldn't help but be glad that her guardian angel had booked her into first class. There was only a scattering of people in the plane's front section on the late evening flight and none of them would have a very good view of her from where they sat. Giles had said it was because the economy section was fully booked on this particular flight and he hadn't thought she would want to spend any longer than necessary waiting around in Sunnydale, but Anya had noticed several empty seats when the stewardess had opened the curtain between the sections. She knew that he'd done it to allow her some privacy.

The lights of Los Angeles receded into the storm's premature darkness as the plane angled upward for the second leg of her journey. There was one last chance to back out when the plane stopped to refuel but only if she was prepared to sacrifice her luggage. She let her eyes drift closed and for a minute she considered it. All the items she'd chosen with meticulous care for her road trip to Mexico, which had been all the honeymoon she and Xander had been able to afford after they had paid for the 'wedding that never was', did not seem so important any more. They didn't even seem particularly appropriate, but it had been easier just to pick up the case that had already been packed and waiting, than to start all over again. No, the clothes she had chosen with such care weren't important, but they had been paid for with hard won cash, as had the flight she had thought about aborting part way. It would be financially irresponsible if she were to fail to make use of either.

"You could still change your mind, you know?" said D'Hoffryn from the previously empty seat beside her.

Anya straightened in her seat and swiped surreptitiously at her red-rimmed eyes. "I told you I wasn't ready to decide."

"Nonsense. You practically had the pen in your hand when that interfering Englishman decided to call."

"Yes, but he did call," Anya answered, keeping her voice even and as firm as she could manage.

"And you really think that some shop-worn librarian cum demon hunter who'll be dead in forty years is reason enough to turn away from all you knew for over a millennium? Why sit on a plane for most of a day and risk deep vein thrombosis to get to some city you've seen a hundred times before when you could teleport there in an instant?"

"Giles isn't shop-worn— Well, maybe a little, but the last few years have been hard on him. Buffy does that to people. Even Spike looks older than when he came to Sunnydale and vampires are always meant to look the same age as when they were turned. Anyway, Giles is surprisingly vital for a man of his age."

D'Hoffryn shook his head and sighed. "I might almost think that having been betrayed by one worthless human you were planning to fall straight into the arms of another. What happened to the girl with the fire to turn her unfaithful husband into a troll? Is she so broken by a few years of humanity that instead of seeking vengeance she runs crying to look for some May to December romance?"

"No, she just learned that when things are bad, she has at least one friend... one who doesn't want anything of her," she added, knowing that D'Hoffryn did not make his offer out of affection, but out of self-interest.

D'Hoffryn snorted. "A friend who buys you a first class ticket to see him and you say he doesn't want anything?"

"Giles? He wouldn't—"

"Have you learned nothing of men in your time in Arashmahar? All men want what is young and beautiful, especially that which they should not have... for a time, until its beauty fades or they tire of it, like Olaf and the boy. Then, all that's left is vengeance."

Anya shook her head and managed a watery smile. "What's left is hurt and sadness and maybe bitterness..."

"There's always bitterness," D'Hoffryn promised.

"Okay, there's always bitterness... but sometimes there's hope as well."

"Is that your final answer?"

"It is, if I have to answer now."

"Very well. You may keep your hope and your mortals, though I doubt either will keep you warm at night when your youth is gone."

The demon disappeared as if he had never been there in the first place. Anya worried nervously at her lip and wondered if she had done the right thing. D'Hoffryn was right. She had been moments away from accepting his offer when Giles had called. If he hadn't reached out to her, she might have returned to the vengeance fold, but D'Hoffryn had already abandoned her once. If it suited him, he would do it again. Next time she might not be so lucky. Like every mortal, ever since Pandora opened her box, she would live with the grief, the pain and the suffering that humanity brings, and she would get by.

She had friendship and support. She had someone waiting to comfort her. Perhaps, with time, it might be more than friendship. Not yet. Giles deserved better than to be the rebound guy. That's if D'Hoffryn were right about Giles wanting more. That didn't mean there wasn't hope. The last and only beautiful fairy in the box... or a greying watcher who kissed like Valentino, polishing his glasses as he waited for her flight to arrive at Charles de Gaulle.

Besides, surely she could have no better vengeance on Xander than to live happily ever after with many satisfying orgasms while he struggled to find date after date, who would no doubt reveal themselves to be demons whose only reason for tolerating his company was to take him off guard so that they could kill him. Of course, Buffy would be around to make sure none of them would ever get as far as actual murder, but that was okay.

She gave a contented sigh as she pictured herself looking pityingly down on him from her happy home, with children and dogs and her mature but sexy husband. This time when she leaned her head against the window, it was to fall into a peaceful sleep.