"This is it!" Buffy bounced excitedly in her seat, "What d'you think?"
Xander pulled the rental car over to the side of the road and focused his attention on the imposing building opposite. It was a good way back from the road behind huge wrought iron gates; the driveway was lined with overgrown elm trees. The house itself was dark and imposing, at least twenty windows on the first floor alone gave a hint as to the size of the place. It looked exactly like the gothic mansion setting for every cheesy vampire film ever made.
The irony of that thought wasn't lost on Xander but the grin it caused stalled as his practised eye took in the state of the building. Even from this distance he could tell it was in a serious state of disrepair. Chances were fair to good there would be a near-terminal case of woodworm and the moss almost covering one side hinted at dampness. If the building had been derelict for as long as it looked then it was a safe bet the foundations had been affected.
"The realtor said it's a fixer-upper!" Buffy enthused, "That's why it was so cheap."
Xander groaned, so he was right then - in the construction trade he'd quickly learned that the term 'fixer-upper' usuallytranslated to 'it'd be cheaper to demolish it and start from scratch.'
Buffy was looking at him expectantly, waiting for a reaction from him. He racked his brains trying to think of how to let her down gently. Since they'd made it out of Sunnydale, her emotional state had been rocky to say the least and there was no telling what would set her off at any given time. "Well," he began carefully, "It's definitely big enough for everyone and I guess with a bit of work" a *lot* of work the voice in his head supplied, "it could be." his brain caught up with his ears.
"Wait a minute, *was* so cheap? Please Buff, tell me you haven't done anything silly?"
She was smiling so widely he was genuinely interested to see if the top of her head would fall off when she spoke.
"It's all ours! Well, Giles' actually - who knew hehad all that money?"
Xander was lost for words for once. "Giles. money.you." He stopped, forcing himself to take a deep breath and count to ten before trying again. "Giles gave you the money to buy this place? Has he seen it?!"
Buffy's face fell as she finally noticed he wasn't sharing her enthusiasm. She actually pouted a little as she answered, "I told him about it and said you were going to take a look. He told me it sounded ideal and if everything checked out then I was to go ahead. Why? Don't you like it?"
The enthusiasm was completely gone now and had been replaced by a weariness that he wondered if anyone else had even notice. Even after all she'd been through, Buffy was still trying to do everything and it was clearly taking its toll.
Xander hated that he'd burst her bubble like this, it had been so long since he'd had seen her so happy and he'd wrecked it.
"C'mere," he said, pulling her into a bear hug. "How can I not like it if you love it so much?" She looked up at him and he cursed himself as he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes."Hey," he continued in a light-hearted tone, "D'you remember when we watched Dracula? The film, not the vamp." He added quickly. A frown creased her brow, "Which one? The one with Keanu?"
He shook his head, "No, the one with Frank Langella."
"Who?" The frown lines deepened and he gave an exaggerated sigh.
"The guy who played Skeletor in Masters of the Universe."
"Ooo! The one with Courtney Cox? Did he play Dracula?" She paused to think for a minute. "Oh yeah! That was a good film!"
"And they call me a geek," Xander shook his head lightly. "Well, d'you remember the manor house?"
She nodded and he pointed towards the building before them.
"Remind you of anywhere?"
She giggled and his heart soared at the mood-shift, looking up at him again she asked softly. "So do you really like it then?"
He swallowed and forced the smile back onto his face.
"Would I lie to you?" Coward! mocked the voice in his head. He pointedly ignored it. "And hey, it's a fixer-upper right?" She nodded again, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Well, who's better at fixing up than me? C'mon, lets take a closer look at Summers Manor."
He got out of the car and quickly sprinted round to the passenger side before Buffy could move. He flung open the door dramatically and bowed deeply. Holding out his hand to her he said, "M'Lady?"
She giggled again before putting on a regal air. Taking his proffered hand she allowed him to help her from the car. Feeling young again, she held her head high and said her best faux-British accent, "Thank you my good man." He bowed deeply again and gently shut the door behind her, "Would you be so kind as to escort me yonder?" She nodded towards her new home.
"But of course, m'lady. It would be my greatest honour."
He held his arm out to her and she gently placed her hand on his as they crossed the street, trying not to laugh at the curious stares they were drawing from passers-by.
The effect was ruined a little when the gates stuck. After a few seconds swearing under his breath, Xander finally managed to get one of them open and stepped back.
"After you, m'lady." He bowed again and this time she couldn't hold back the giggles. Grabbing his hand she ran with him up the driveway, the pair of them laughing like little kids.
"Xander?" Buffy's voice echoed up the empty hallway.
There was no sign of the self-appointed handyman and she frowned, it seemed to have been a while since she'd seen him to talk to. Oh he was always around, every time anyone was looking for him all they had to do was follow the sounds of hammering and there he'd be, but she couldn't remember having spoken to him, really talked, for longer than she liked.
He was supposed to be taking a look at the stair treads, just two days ago Rona had badly twisted her ankle when one had given way beneath her. She had Slayer healing on her side, but it could have been a lot worse. "Xander?" she shouted again, "Phone call!"
He appeared at the top of the stairway with a pencil in his mouth and a measuring tape in his hand.
"Oo ig i?" He spat out the pencil and tried again, "Who is it?"
"Dunno," she shrugged. "Sounds important though."
"'Kay, I'll take it up here." He turned away and headed for his room which they'd agreed was the best place for the phone upstairs - what with all the teenage girls in the house - and picked up the old-fashioned receiver.
He waited, listening for the clunk that would signal Buffy hanging up downstairs and grinned when it took a few seconds longer than it should have.
"Hello?" he said
"Mr Harris?" the voice on the other end of the line had an official tone to it.
"Yes, can I help you?"
"Is this Alexander Lavelle Harris, formerly resident of Sunnydale, California?" He frowned a little; he still owed a months rent of the apartment back there and this guy sounded a little like a debt collector.
"Yes." He confirmed it slowly.
"I'm Lee Mercer, legal representative for the estate of one Anya Emerson. I believe she was known to you?" Xander felt a lump form in his throat at the mention of Anya's name. He didn't trust himself to speak for a few seconds.
"Mr Harris? Are you there?"
He swallowed, "Yes, sorry. I'm here. I knew her. She's. she was my fiancée."
"I see, well I wonder if I could prevail upon you to visit our offices?"
"What for?" He was still finding it difficult to get the words out.
"To discuss the terms of Ms Emerson's will."
Minutes later, the door swung open and a redheaded bundle of energy named Willow came flying in. "Xander! Here you are! Glad I found you. Kennedy noticed a damp patch on the ceiling and she mentioned that you should probably take a look at it before it falls through - the ceiling that is - so I said I'd come find you so that you could take a look at it? The damp patch?"
She stopped as she realised he wasn't listening. "Xander? Did you hear me?"
He was sitting on the bed staring into space and clutching the phone like it was a lifeline.
"Hello? Earth to Xander? Anyone home?" She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the contact and the phone fell from his grasp.
As he turned quickly to face her she realised she'd come up on his blindside. She'd gotten so used to the eye-patch and seeing how he coped with it that she'd almost forgotten about it.
"Are you okay?" She asked with a frown on her face. He definitely didn't look okay and it struck her that he hadn't really been himself since the incident. Since he'd lost the eye.
He didn't answer, he just looked at her with that odd almost empty expression on his face. Something was very wrong here and even though she had no clue what to do about that she realised it was up to her to do something about it. Trying to change the subject she said, "It's okay if you don't have time though, it's not like you're the only one who could fix it, heck *I* could even take a look at it I guess. I mean, you don't have to be the only one who can fix things. You've got other stuff to do. And, oh yeah, Buffy told me to tell you not to worry about patrolling anymore. The new girls have got it all under control now and they don't really need anyone else along now. It's kind of a shame I guess, cuz you know I miss the old patrols sometimes but I guess it makes more sense this way, cuz this way no one will gut hu..." She stopped as his face hardened, "Um."
His voice was laced with bitterness when he spoke, "No one will get hurt. That's what you want to say isn't it?" She nodded mutely. "Fine." The bitterness seemed to drain out of him with that word and all that was left was emptiness. "Xander? What's wrong? Are you upset about not patrolling or something?" He stood and walked away from her. "Not everything revolves around the Slayers, Will. I thought you of all people would know that by now." She frowned again; there was a coldness in his voice that she never thought she'd hear from him. Obviously it was a touchy subject, and he was right after all. Trying once again to change the subject she asked, "Do you think you'll have time to look at the ceiling? I mean, all I can do is point and say, yup that's a damp patch."
He turned to face her, his face blank. "No. I don't think I'll have time. I'm going out."
"Oh. Well, when you get back could you look at it then?"
"I've got other things to do Will. Some things are just more important." "Oh. What are you going to do? Hey I know! I could come with you! I'd love to get out of the house for a while! Maybe we could even get Buffy to come along - it'd be just like old times! What d'you think?" "For chrissake! Can't a guy keep a secret here? Does everyone have to get a say on every fucking move I make?!" He stormed out, leaving a stunned Willow behind.
The glass door swung open and he stepped back to let the woman enter. No, he looked again as he felt a tingle in his right hand; it wasn't a woman, it was a Vadzimu demon. They were a fairly benign race of demons who tended to keep their heads down and just get on with everyday life. No threat there then.
He let the door swing shut again, leaving him standing on the sidewalk looking up at the building. The location might be different but the clientele was most definitely the same and, with any luck, so were some of the employees. Taking a deep breath and drawing on all his courage, Lindsey Macdonald opened the door and stepped into the lobby of Wolfram and Hart, Cleveland.
Goosebumps formed almost instantly as the air-conditioned air hit him, and he paused to think for a second if it really was just the cold air or if there was something else about this place causing that reaction. The lobby was full of sharply dressed people, each of them with the same air of quiet worry and intense ambition that he knew he'd once carried. He almost pitied them until he remembered what he'd done and what they no doubt were doing under the direction of the Senior Partners. It was all he could do not to curl his lip in disgust as the receptionist smiled brightly at him. "Good morning, sir. Can I help you?"
Lindsey stepped forward, knowing that despite the changes in his appearance he would still be recognisable to anyone looking for him. He was banking on the recent events in California to have everyone chasing their tails and not likely to look for him, especially in their own back yard.
"Yes I hope you can," his roving eyes spotted one of the names he was looking for in the directory covering the wall behind her. "Would it be possible to speak to Lee Mercer? I don't have an appointment I'm afraid but . well, I guess you could say we're old friends." He kept his expression neutral and tried to keep his mind clear for the benefit of whatever surveillance had to be checking him out right now.
"Just a moment, I'll check his calendar." She typed something into the terminal in front of her and frowned. "I'm sorry sir, Mr Mercer is with a client just now and it appears he'll be in a meeting directly after that. Would you like me to arrange an appointment for you?" She smiled up at him brightly, looking like a picture-perfect receptionist-of-the-year contestant. He shook his head, "No thanks, I'm not in town for long and I just took the off-chance he'd be free. No matter, I'll catch him next time." He turned away, ignoring her offer to take his name and let Mr Mercer know he had dropped by, and headed back through the doors.
Once outside he kept walking, knowing that he would be watched until he was a safe distance from the offices. Two blocks down he spotted a coffee shop and used it as the perfect opportunity to get off the street. He quickly placed his order and, sipping the steaming hot coffee, turned to a seat by the window. Lee may well have been with a client, but if there was one thing to be said about him, he believed in seeing a case through from beginning to end. If he stayed true to form he'd be using the personal touch.
A mere fifteen minutes later the door to the law firm opened again. Lee stepped out into the bright street followed by a man in his early twenties - must be the client. Lindsey checked him over but aside from an eye-patch covering his left eye he looked completely normal. Never taking his eyes off the scene down the street, Lindsey put down his still half full cup and dropped the money on the table. As he walked slowly towards them, he watched as the two men shook hands and walked to a beat-up car parked in front of the building. He saw Lee make some comment and gesture towards the car, the two of them laughed in that nervous 'not really funny but I'll laugh to be polite' way. The one-eyed man drove off and the lawyer pasted a fake smile on his face and waved cheerily until the car turned the corner. In an instant the smile was off his face and he stepped back - straight into Lindsey.
"Hello Lee, long time no see."
He didn't know where he was driving to; he just kept going. It actually felt good for a change. No one was expecting him anywhere, he wasn't running any errands or being the resident taxi service this time. He was just driving for the hell of it; trying to sort things out in his head.
He'd known Anya had always been passionate about money so it shouldn't really have come as a surprise to him to find out that she had a lot more stashed away than anyone suspected. It had been a surprise though; the sheer amount was too big for him to get his head round. And she'd left it all to him. The guy who'd abandoned her not just on their wedding day; but also on the day she died.
The tears forming began to cloud his vision and he pulled over to the side of the road. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he remembered the broad smile and the completely open expression on her face, the jokes and the refreshing honesty in everything she said. In his mind's eye he could see the hurt on her face as she pleaded with him, telling him things would be different, that it had all been smoke and mirrors. He could hear himself say they couldn't start again, that if it was a mistake then it was forever. Could see her walk away, tears streaming down her face, trying to be brave, trying to understand. He could feel his heart lurch and knew that this was the moment it died.
There was a knock at the window dragging Xander out of the memories. Looking up he saw a traffic cop looking at him through the windscreen and he quickly wound the window down.
"Sir, you'll have to move your car. This is a no parking zone."
He looked around, a little dazed for a moment before he realised where he was. "Sorry officer, I'll move it now."
The man nodded and stepped back. Xander turned the key in the ignition and pulled into the flow of traffic. What was he going to do now? Anya had left him enough money to ensure he'd never have to work another day in his life so where did that leave him? Back at Slayer Central fixing the windows?
Something in him rebelled at that thought, after seven years he realised for the first time that he no longer really knew the people surrounding him. Buffy was so mixed up these days that everyone - including him - walked on eggshells around her, afraid to set her off again. There had been a time she would confide in him, ask his advice and actually listen when he gave it. She hadn't always followed that advice, if he was honest, she hardly *ever* followed his advice but at least she'd asked. The time when she'd valued his opinions suddenly seemed so long ago that he almost doubted it had ever happened.
As for Willow, she was no longer the girl who was so scared of teachers that she cried at the thought of owning up to minor crimes. Now she was a confident, self-assured ultra-powerful witch with whom he had nothing in common anymore. Had he really sworn at her this morning?
Without intending to, he'd ended up driving back to the manor house and as he pulled into the driveway he realised that no one in that place really knew him any longer either. The only person who had, had died in Sunnydale. Maybe that realisation was another legacy Anya had left him. He had a lot to think about, what he was doing, where he was heading and most of all who with.
Stepping out of the car, he looked around him with fresh eyes. This wasn't his life, it was Buffy's and Willow's and hell even Giles'. In this world Xander Harris was only good for fixing things and being a shoulder to cry on. That needed to change, and Anya had posthumously given him the means to do something about it. He owed it to her not to waste the chance; he owed it to himself.