BTVS Oneshot: And Fellow Feeling
Dec. 27th, 2025 10:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jesterladyficTitle: And Fellow Feeling
By Jesterlady
Rating: PG
Pairing: Xander/Anya
Summary: Anya and Xander dissect their musical number. Maybe if there was more dissecting, there’d be less combusting.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS. The title is from Christina Rosetti.
And Fellow Feeling
“What do you think that was?” Anya asked after they’d gotten their breath back.
“What do you mean?” asked Xander.
“What were we singing?”
“What?” he asked.
“You know, like, was it a breakaway pop hit?”
“Ahn, you think about the strangest things.”
Xander kissed her on the forehead before getting off the couch and going about his original quest of pancake making.
Anya couldn’t quite get past their little musical interlude as easily and she pondered the song for a long time. While she was puzzling, she couldn’t help but think about the fears she’d expressed through the song and what anxiety she had. It didn’t take long for her to start thinking about Xander’s half.
“What did you say about my toes?” she asked abruptly, rising from the couch and going over to the counter.
He froze for a moment over the skillet and then gave her his best grin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear; that’s all sorts of crazy you’re spouting.”
“That’s another thing,” she said. “You never pay attention to what I say; you just breeze right on past.”
“Well, maybe if you stopped for a minute or two and let me breathe, I wouldn’t need to do that,” Xander replied.
“Oh, no,” she said, feeling twinges of panic and righteous anger at the same time. “No, that’s something a man who has been unfaithful would say. Who did you sleep with? Did you finally get Willow to un-gay herself for you?”
He stared at her for a second incredulously.
“Anya, no one, no one, no one. I would never do that. I mean, there’s no one.”
“Okay,” she said, satisfied that his babbling words came from sincerity, not guilt. “But that doesn’t change the point. You were singing about not wanting to be married to me.”
“You were singing, too,” he said. “Your voice is lovely, by the way,” he added.
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “Your voice is satisfactory and when you dance in those pajamas it makes me want to have sex with you.”
He raised an eyebrow in interest and then shook his head.
“No, no, distracting. We both sang.”
“But I brought it up,” she said. “You weren’t ever going to say anything.”
“That’s what we sang we’d do,” he said. “I was musically obligated to keep my word.”
“That’s silly,” she said. “That’s nonsense. You said you were petrified. What’s to be petrified about with me?”
“You could disembowel me one night in your sleep,” he said. “You’ve talked about it often enough I’m pretty sure one nightmare and you’d be reenacting without thinking about it.”
She stared at him for a moment, attempting to see if he was serious. It was difficult for her to discern his panic from his desire to ward her off his scent.
“You’re evading,” she said finally. “Tell me why you don’t want to marry me. You asked me, remember?”
“I do,” he said, putting the spatula down and coming closer. “I really do, Ahn.”
“Then why would we sing that?” she asked.
“Everybody has things they don’t like about the other person,” said Xander. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“That is true,” said Anya. “But do they have a whole song choreographed in their head?”
“It’s not us,” said Xander, turning sketchy. “No, there’s weird, magical, Hellmouth-y stuff happening. Nothing to do with us.”
“But I don’t think the song could have happened if we hadn’t already been thinking it,” said Anya. “Or we would have sung about happy things, like money and you digging.”
“It’s a bit of cold feet,” said Xander. “More like lukewarm feet.”
“The temperature of my feet has nothing to do with it,” said Anya. “I’m worried now.”
“Tell you what,” said Xander, “let’s sit down and talk about it.”
“Okay,” said Anya, somewhat mollified. “Though we’re already talking about it while standing.”
“Sitting makes me feel more invested in a conversation,” said Xander, leading her over to the couch again. “It’s a modern age thing, go with it.”
They sat and Anya looked at him expectantly.
“Well, explain your song,” she said.
“Only if you explain yours, too,” he said.
“I could sing it again probably,” said Anya.
“That’s not necessary,” said Xander. He took a deep breath and then spoke slowly. “Recently, I’ve realized that there are a lot of parts about marriage I don’t know anything about. I didn’t really have the best example of it and if you want to talk about being raised differently, I’m pretty sure we win all the categories of that game show.”
“But we love each other and I’m human now,” she said.
“But you were a demon,” he said. “I’m a construction guy.” She smiled. “I mean, how’s it going to work when we have kids?”
“What kids were we going to have?” she asked.
They’d never really talked about it before.
“Just normal kids,” he said. “Or would they be demons?”
“How could they be demons? I’m human,” she said, extremely confused.
“But are your genes human?” he asked.
“Of course they are,” said Anya. “My power source has been completely destroyed and that leaves me in whatever form I was in, in this case, human; also known as my original form. I can’t be anything else.”
“That’s good to know,” he said, looking very relieved.
“Well, if you were worried about that you should’ve asked me,” she said.
He shifted in discomfort and then suddenly pointed at her.
“Well, what about you, you sang about weddings and betrayal.”
“That’s what I know,” she said. “No man has ever been a good husband.”
“That is not true,” said Xander. “I don’t have any examples that are coming to mind, but the numbers have to be fifty-fifty there. Good husbands are just as likely as good wives.”
“Then why did so many women need me?” she asked. “Over a thousand years, Xander, I’ve heard it all.”
“Then why did you agree to marry me?” he asked.
“Because I’m human now,” she said. “You’re nice and I love you and you asked me and we didn’t die.”
“Okay, that doesn’t make me feel better,” he said. “End of the world proposal is officially being taken off the good idea list.”
“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” she said.
He gave her a strange look and she shook her head in annoyance. He never got her jokes.
“So, maybe marriage isn’t for right now,” he said. “Since we’re both clearly still worried about it.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “I have the most beautiful dress though.”
“I was looking forward to seeing you in it,” he admitted.
“But perhaps we should talk first,” she said. “Go over the song and do…what do they call it – marriage counseling?”
He shuddered slightly, but nodded.
“Maybe Giles knows a good counselor who knows about demons because I don’t think we could possibly have any kind of break through if we’re constantly trying to dress your vengeance demon days as you being part of a radical feminist group.”
“It’s nice to be able to say what I think and not have to worry about how other people will react,” she said. “Even with us that doesn’t happen that often.”
“Because?” he asked, though he looked like he already knew.
“Because you’re constantly trying to get me to behave more normal,” she said, “without explaining anything about why or trying to understand why I’m not.”
He winced.
“Okay, so there’s that, a great first topic of discussion.”
“I get to keep the ring, right?” she said, looking at it fondly. “We’re still getting married and that will never change.”
“Not until the actual marriage part,” he said, putting his arm around her. “I’m…sorry, Ahn. I’m glad we sang.”
“Me too,” she said, feeling better. “You might have left me at the altar and then I would have had to hunt you down.”
He tensed up for a second and then relaxed.
“So, definitely won’t do that,” he said. “Let’s get the kinks worked out first.”
“Maybe we’ll do song therapy,” she said, brightening. “I still have to figure out the genre.”
He sighed and smiled at her, his exasperation tempered with fondness and she liked the look. She liked that better than when he thought she was being rude and frowned at her or looked like he didn’t want to admit he knew her or that he had to explain her to his friends.
She got up and walked away, thinking hard, immediate fears quelled, back to the pressing question of what exactly, musically speaking, had just happened.
By Jesterlady
Rating: PG
Pairing: Xander/Anya
Summary: Anya and Xander dissect their musical number. Maybe if there was more dissecting, there’d be less combusting.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS. The title is from Christina Rosetti.
And Fellow Feeling
“What do you think that was?” Anya asked after they’d gotten their breath back.
“What do you mean?” asked Xander.
“What were we singing?”
“What?” he asked.
“You know, like, was it a breakaway pop hit?”
“Ahn, you think about the strangest things.”
Xander kissed her on the forehead before getting off the couch and going about his original quest of pancake making.
Anya couldn’t quite get past their little musical interlude as easily and she pondered the song for a long time. While she was puzzling, she couldn’t help but think about the fears she’d expressed through the song and what anxiety she had. It didn’t take long for her to start thinking about Xander’s half.
“What did you say about my toes?” she asked abruptly, rising from the couch and going over to the counter.
He froze for a moment over the skillet and then gave her his best grin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear; that’s all sorts of crazy you’re spouting.”
“That’s another thing,” she said. “You never pay attention to what I say; you just breeze right on past.”
“Well, maybe if you stopped for a minute or two and let me breathe, I wouldn’t need to do that,” Xander replied.
“Oh, no,” she said, feeling twinges of panic and righteous anger at the same time. “No, that’s something a man who has been unfaithful would say. Who did you sleep with? Did you finally get Willow to un-gay herself for you?”
He stared at her for a second incredulously.
“Anya, no one, no one, no one. I would never do that. I mean, there’s no one.”
“Okay,” she said, satisfied that his babbling words came from sincerity, not guilt. “But that doesn’t change the point. You were singing about not wanting to be married to me.”
“You were singing, too,” he said. “Your voice is lovely, by the way,” he added.
“Thanks,” she said, beaming. “Your voice is satisfactory and when you dance in those pajamas it makes me want to have sex with you.”
He raised an eyebrow in interest and then shook his head.
“No, no, distracting. We both sang.”
“But I brought it up,” she said. “You weren’t ever going to say anything.”
“That’s what we sang we’d do,” he said. “I was musically obligated to keep my word.”
“That’s silly,” she said. “That’s nonsense. You said you were petrified. What’s to be petrified about with me?”
“You could disembowel me one night in your sleep,” he said. “You’ve talked about it often enough I’m pretty sure one nightmare and you’d be reenacting without thinking about it.”
She stared at him for a moment, attempting to see if he was serious. It was difficult for her to discern his panic from his desire to ward her off his scent.
“You’re evading,” she said finally. “Tell me why you don’t want to marry me. You asked me, remember?”
“I do,” he said, putting the spatula down and coming closer. “I really do, Ahn.”
“Then why would we sing that?” she asked.
“Everybody has things they don’t like about the other person,” said Xander. “Nobody’s perfect.”
“That is true,” said Anya. “But do they have a whole song choreographed in their head?”
“It’s not us,” said Xander, turning sketchy. “No, there’s weird, magical, Hellmouth-y stuff happening. Nothing to do with us.”
“But I don’t think the song could have happened if we hadn’t already been thinking it,” said Anya. “Or we would have sung about happy things, like money and you digging.”
“It’s a bit of cold feet,” said Xander. “More like lukewarm feet.”
“The temperature of my feet has nothing to do with it,” said Anya. “I’m worried now.”
“Tell you what,” said Xander, “let’s sit down and talk about it.”
“Okay,” said Anya, somewhat mollified. “Though we’re already talking about it while standing.”
“Sitting makes me feel more invested in a conversation,” said Xander, leading her over to the couch again. “It’s a modern age thing, go with it.”
They sat and Anya looked at him expectantly.
“Well, explain your song,” she said.
“Only if you explain yours, too,” he said.
“I could sing it again probably,” said Anya.
“That’s not necessary,” said Xander. He took a deep breath and then spoke slowly. “Recently, I’ve realized that there are a lot of parts about marriage I don’t know anything about. I didn’t really have the best example of it and if you want to talk about being raised differently, I’m pretty sure we win all the categories of that game show.”
“But we love each other and I’m human now,” she said.
“But you were a demon,” he said. “I’m a construction guy.” She smiled. “I mean, how’s it going to work when we have kids?”
“What kids were we going to have?” she asked.
They’d never really talked about it before.
“Just normal kids,” he said. “Or would they be demons?”
“How could they be demons? I’m human,” she said, extremely confused.
“But are your genes human?” he asked.
“Of course they are,” said Anya. “My power source has been completely destroyed and that leaves me in whatever form I was in, in this case, human; also known as my original form. I can’t be anything else.”
“That’s good to know,” he said, looking very relieved.
“Well, if you were worried about that you should’ve asked me,” she said.
He shifted in discomfort and then suddenly pointed at her.
“Well, what about you, you sang about weddings and betrayal.”
“That’s what I know,” she said. “No man has ever been a good husband.”
“That is not true,” said Xander. “I don’t have any examples that are coming to mind, but the numbers have to be fifty-fifty there. Good husbands are just as likely as good wives.”
“Then why did so many women need me?” she asked. “Over a thousand years, Xander, I’ve heard it all.”
“Then why did you agree to marry me?” he asked.
“Because I’m human now,” she said. “You’re nice and I love you and you asked me and we didn’t die.”
“Okay, that doesn’t make me feel better,” he said. “End of the world proposal is officially being taken off the good idea list.”
“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” she said.
He gave her a strange look and she shook her head in annoyance. He never got her jokes.
“So, maybe marriage isn’t for right now,” he said. “Since we’re both clearly still worried about it.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “I have the most beautiful dress though.”
“I was looking forward to seeing you in it,” he admitted.
“But perhaps we should talk first,” she said. “Go over the song and do…what do they call it – marriage counseling?”
He shuddered slightly, but nodded.
“Maybe Giles knows a good counselor who knows about demons because I don’t think we could possibly have any kind of break through if we’re constantly trying to dress your vengeance demon days as you being part of a radical feminist group.”
“It’s nice to be able to say what I think and not have to worry about how other people will react,” she said. “Even with us that doesn’t happen that often.”
“Because?” he asked, though he looked like he already knew.
“Because you’re constantly trying to get me to behave more normal,” she said, “without explaining anything about why or trying to understand why I’m not.”
He winced.
“Okay, so there’s that, a great first topic of discussion.”
“I get to keep the ring, right?” she said, looking at it fondly. “We’re still getting married and that will never change.”
“Not until the actual marriage part,” he said, putting his arm around her. “I’m…sorry, Ahn. I’m glad we sang.”
“Me too,” she said, feeling better. “You might have left me at the altar and then I would have had to hunt you down.”
He tensed up for a second and then relaxed.
“So, definitely won’t do that,” he said. “Let’s get the kinks worked out first.”
“Maybe we’ll do song therapy,” she said, brightening. “I still have to figure out the genre.”
He sighed and smiled at her, his exasperation tempered with fondness and she liked the look. She liked that better than when he thought she was being rude and frowned at her or looked like he didn’t want to admit he knew her or that he had to explain her to his friends.
She got up and walked away, thinking hard, immediate fears quelled, back to the pressing question of what exactly, musically speaking, had just happened.
