“One potato, two potato, three potato, four.” 

Xander moved his fist around the circle, bored out of his mind and going out of his mind. Right foot, left foot, left hand, chin. 

“Five potato, six potato, seven potato, more.” 

What was the point of the game again? And why potatoes? What was the point of that, except that he was starving and really wanted some chips. He craved salt, the crunchy salt of junk food. Of course he’d have settled for a Snickers, or some Oreos, or even a bag of Doritos. 

Hell, at this point an apple would be fine. 

“So more…does this mean my chin is out?” 

He was talking to himself again. 

“I’m talking to myself again,” he repeated and hated that when he said it aloud it did absolutely nothing to help the constant fear that bubbled beneath his skin. 

Standing, he crossed the small room that crazy bitch kept him in. It was pretty big, actually, bigger than his lovely cell. Bigger than his room at home. Not that he had a home any more. And his parents, he wondered what had ever happened to them. Dead probably. 

Underneath the terror he felt a stab of remorse for their deaths, a sense of loss he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel, and sure as hell hadn’t when they were alive. He didn’t have a lot of family, but he was sure they were dead, too. Unless Angelus used the prison population as slave labor. He looked out the window at the red sea of nothingness. 

“He has enough slave labor,” he mumbled. “Nothing but slaves to do his biding and keep his kingdom alive.”

“Talking to yourself, Xander?” 

He whirled in fear and gave a small, quite unmanly, yelp. “Spike,” he gasped, clutching his heart because he could and still had a heart to clutch. “Shit.” 

“Ah-ah,” Spike smirked. “No cursing. Wouldn’t want to insult the goddess, would we?” 

Xander knew there was a stupid blank look on his face but couldn’t help it. He barely resisted the ‘huh?’ that was on the tip of his tongue. 

“Buffy,” Spike sighed, but the gleam of malicious glee was still in his eyes. “You know, your ‘friend’?” And on friend, he used those air quotes that Cordelia loved. 

Whatever happened to Cordelia? Was she dead? Locked up in some room like he was, a prisoner? But with the rape and rape that went with it? She’d voluntarily gone with that demon guy, but what happened afterwards? 

“I’m aware who Buffy is,” Xander snapped, trying for bravery. Even he knew it wasn’t working. “And I’m aware that there are those in this world who consider her a goddess. I’m not one of them, and as far as I could tell, you weren’t either.” 

“Ah, but there’s where you’re mistaken, boy-o. I do consider her my goddess, and will gladly worship her as such.” 

Xander narrowed his eyes. “Are you drunk?”
Spike snorted. “Not yet. I’m here at the goddess’ behest, to bring you to lunch.” 

“Huh?” he couldn’t help the word this time. Lunch? His stomach growled and he really, really wanted to eat. But with her? With the traitor? With the bitch who got him into this mess? Or as lunch? Had Angelus turned her, and he was her midday snack? 

“Few rules, first.” 

“Rules for eating?” 

“No, idiot, those are called manners. But this isn’t about tea etiquette. It’s about rules. As in this is what you don’t do and are required to do and if you don’t, you’ll die, do.” Spike paused, frowned, and added, “Capiche?” 

“No capiche. And I’m not hungry.” His stomach belied that, but Xander was sure Spike didn't need his traitorous body’s growl of hunger to realize that the last time he’d eaten was last night when the now-absent Drusilla had served him fresh vegetables. He didn’t even like peppers. 

“As the captee, you haven’t a say in the matter.”

Spike leaned against the wall near the door to his prison and waited. Xander looked outside once more, cursed the view, Angelus, the weak human body for its food craving, and Buffy and turned back. Nodding, he waited. 

“Rule number one – no cursing in front of the goddess.” He flinched at Spike’s use of goddess but nodded again. “Two – no blaming her for anything. This includes, but is not limited to, things she had no control over, things she did, people she may or may not have killed, other’s use of free will, demons she’s never seen and the ones she’s helped, global warming, species extinction, polar cap melting, and the lack of meat on your plate.” 

Xander opened his mouth, blinked, closed it again and shook his head. Sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the round dining table, he wearily gestured for Spike to continue. One of these rules, he was going to have a witty remark. He was sure of it. 

“Rule three, any infraction of the previous rules is punishable.” 

“By death?” 

“By whatever means Drusilla deems necessary.” 

“I’d rather death.” Spike was silent to that statement. “And isn’t that why it’s not an option. Wonderful. Did Buffy put you up to this?” he demanded. “Too afraid to see me on terms that don’t threaten
me?”

“Buffy,” Spike emphasized the word in a tone that quite seriously indicated the name was not to be used. Whatever. 

“Is my goddess. I will do and say whatever she wishes and whatever it takes to see to her safety. And I’ll maim any who threaten her – physically or otherwise. She wants to see you, have a meal with you.”

“Feeling guilty, is she?” 

“Liberated.”

He opened his mouth on a retort, but didn't know what there was to say to that. Overcome by curiosity he was certain he’d regret, he asked, “Liberated by what? Invading allied forces?” 

“Knowledge, little boy. Liberated by knowledge.” 

“Read a dictionary, has she?” 

Spike growled again. Fine, fine, fine. At least he’d get out of this place. He wasn’t claustrophobic before. Of course, he wasn’t a prisoner before. Wasn’t that a TV show? With the weird psychedelic music and clothing? 

“What was that?” Spike demanded. 

“Huh?” Xander shook his head – he didn’t know what he’d said, but what he was thinking wasn’t really worth repeating. 

“Okay, okay, let’s go to lunch.” 

They walked through the winding halls and past demons who somehow didn’t look as scary as they had pre-hell. What a thought. Pre-hell. Huh. How could he be so blasé about that? Hell, not the demons. Well, maybe them, too. 

“Where’s Drusilla?” 

He really didn’t want to know, but it seemed a reasonable question, and he hated silence. Really hated it. 

“England.” 

“Ah…oh. Why? How?” 

Spike paused, as if he really considered his answer. For a second, it unnerved Xander. What was he going to say? What was the truth? And could he handle the truth? Jack Nicholson’s voice echoed in his mind. 

Great. And he didn’t even have a TV. 

“She went to England with our god to stamp out the evil that is the Council.” 

“What are you, the grammar king?” he muttered. Then, “Council? As in Watcher’s Council? Shit.” 

“Yup.” 

“Why now? I mean it’s been…however long it’s been since Angelus went all crazy on the world and turned it into this.” 

Spike looked strangely at him for a beat, then said in that blank-bored voice he normally used.

“They tried to kill her.” 

So many things raced through him at those words, he didn’t know which feeling to feel first. Anger. How dare they? Fear. He couldn’t even have said why. Relief. If she was dead… 

Shame. 

Confusion. 

“Oh.” 

Was all he could come up with. All he could manage. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t want her dead. Well, he didn’t think he did. If she was dead…if she was dead, then would this hell go back to pre-hell? Would it all change again? 

Or would she just be dead? 

Traitor, whore…friend. 

Why was life so difficult? Weren’t his teenage years supposed to be full of parental and educational angst? Where was that? Why was he in the middle of all this? 

Suddenly they were there. The sun (or what was left of it) blazed hotly on the dead surface. Xander swore he felt a breeze in this oasis. He wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Hey.” 

Buffy looked at him and nodded. He couldn’t tell what went through her mind, what she wanted or felt, or even who she was. Not this vision before him. She was beautiful. She also got them into this. 

Spike’s words came to mind, but he couldn’t really say he cared. He didn’t really care about anything, actually. 

“So, ah,” he tried, wondering why she was silent when she wanted to see him. “What’s for lunch?” 

“Help yourself,” she offered with a gesture to the tray of fruits and vegetables next to her. 

As he did so, she spoke. 

“In time, I think I can forgive you for what you did. I can’t forget. You betrayed our friendship because you didn’t like my boyfriend. So much has changed, Xander,” she said, “that you can’t base it on normality.” 

“Normal? Buffy, my life was never normal.” 

“True, but it got a lot more abnormal when you met me.” 

“Hmm,” he nodded around a mouthful of celery. He really wanted some peanut butter. 

“Why did you do it?”

“He’s a demon. He’s evil. He doesn’t deserve to live, let alone be loved by you.” 

“Is that what this is about? Jealousy?” 

“No.” but even he realized he said to too quickly to be believed. “It’s about humanity. And how you chose demonity over it.” 

“I,” she spat, “didn’t chose anything over anything. If you recall, I chose to kill Angelus to stop this.” 

“Didn’t work,” he pointed out, now quite full, if a little junk food deprived. 

Her jaw tightened, but she nodded once, a short sharp jerk of her head. “No. But then life rarely goes according to plan.” 

They sat in silence for a moment or two before she continued. “You’re Drusilla’s to do with as she pleases. I don’t care what that is. Friendship means different things to us, and I won’t have any people in my life that can’t accept the changes in it.” 

“Because I won’t accept that you fuck a demon, we’re not friends? Kinda juvenile there, Buf. I loved you; I gave you everything I had! I went against that monster for you. And what do you do? Crawl into bed with it. You would rather have that undead piece of trash than me.” 

He could hear Spike’s growl but didn’t care. Maybe he really had given up. 

“Therapeutic.” Slowly she nodded and stood. “I did love you, Xander. You were my one of my best friends but that wasn’t good enough for you. Nothing I did for you was ever good enough. Loving someone means you want them happy, despite what you think is the right or wrong way to go about it. But you don’t care do you?” He didn’t think she really wanted an answer. “None of this means anything to you. Then there’s nothing more for us to say. Goodbye, Xander.” 

“That’s it, eh? We don’t agree, so you cut off contact. Typical.”

”Yes, you’d recognize that wouldn’t you. You’re so very good at it yourself.” 

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.” 

“Xander, I have nothing more to say to you. I wished there was a way to mend our friendship, but you won’t bend to see the world the way it is now. It can’t ever go back to what it was.” 

“And even if it could,” he wondered, but didn’t expect an answer, “you wouldn’t, eh?” 

She stared steadily at him, but said nothing. 

“Fine. Enjoy your life then, goddess.” He offered a mocking bow and stalked out of her little area. Spike was around the first bend – which was just as well, he was already lost. 

“I warned you, boy,” Spike growled. His face had shifted, and his eyes glowed an angry yellow. “I promised Dru I wouldn’t do anything to you while she was gone. Shame I’m a vampire of my word. She loves Buffy as her own – she’s going to destroy you when she returns.” 

“Let her,” Xander half-snapped, half-wearily allowed. “This world is gone to crap anyway, what’s one more life?” 

“You really don’t get it.” When he laughed, Xander shivered. It was scarier than the threats. “Life is what you make it, boy. If you want to wallow in her prison, you will. If you want to live, it’s your choice. But I forget,” he said mockingly, “you’re not much of a survivor, are you, without someone there doing it for you. Harris. you’re one of the reasons we eat those too stupid to exist.” 

“I don’t care.” 

The grin the vampire offered made Xander wish he could retract those words. 

“Then I’ll have to see you do. I think you’re going to find, Harris, before Dru and I are done with you that you care about a great many things, where your worthless hide is concerned.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy watched her friend walk away. She could hear his words with Spike, and wondered if there was another way. 

To change what happened, to mend the relationship with him. She didn’t know what to do and wasn’t sure she had the strength to do it anyway. 

Rubbing her eyes, she pushed the tiredness away. She still had people to see and things to sort out. Willow was next. Might as well get that over with. First Xander, then Willow. 

Hell-friendship week. Welcome to her world. 

Spike returned, still visibly angry, face rippling into his vampire form, a low growl rumbling in his chest. She didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to in the face of this bizarre twist. 

“Willow next?” he asked, eyes steady on hers. 

“Yes, thanks.” 

He nodded, bowed a bow that wasn’t nearly as mocking as she thought it should be, and turned sharply on his heel to get her other best friend. 

“I’m not strong enough for this,” she whispered once his footsteps faded into the distance. “Having a life is harder than it sounds.”

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