"Willow, I just don't understand this!" Buffy railed at her redheaded friend. "What on earth were you thinking?"

"I know, I know, it was wrong," Willow pleaded. "Buffy, I'm so sorry."

"You're SORRY? Well then, okay, saying that makes everything go away, right?" the slayer sneered. "I feel ever so much better now."

"Hey!" Xander objected from where he was sitting on the Summerses' couch. "I don't think you ought to—"

"N-no, Xander, let her talk," Willow said, her voice quavering as she slunk into the depths of the chair. "I deserve it."

The carpenter hesitated for a second and then tried to relax, as Dawn moved closer to him and clung to his arm even more fiercely.

"Oh, so I've got your PERMISSION to be angry?" Buffy continued to rage as she paced back and forth in her living room. "How noble and generous of you, Miss High and Mighty Witch! Of course, we wouldn't be in this mess if YOU had gotten MY permission to RIP ME OUT OF HEAVEN!!!"

"I know, I thought about doing a locator spell, but there were so many hells to check, and I didn't want you in any of them—" Willow pleaded, her face a ravaged picture of regret.

"Hey!" Buffy cut her off. "Did I ask you to explain? I know you don't like to think about what other people want, but I was hoping that you might have learned something in that tiny little brain of—"

Suddenly the slayer stopped her tirade, noting the tear falling from the hacker's eye.

"Oh, god, Will!" Buffy said, racing to the chair and dropping to her knees in front of it. "I did too much, didn't I? I don't want to make you cry!"

"No, no, go back to the yelling, I deserve it," Willow insisted.

"No, this is stupid," Buffy said. "I don't even know if I was in heaven any more; it could have been the asylum dimension, if that wasn't just a delusion, and the 'peace' I thought I had might have just been the drugs or something."

"Yeah, 'cuz you said you thought we were safe," Dawn pointed out. "And even though Glory was gone, we kind of...weren't," she finished with a shiver.

Buffy rose, moving over to stroke Dawn's head. "I know," she said, patting the shiny locks, "it was probably just another way of my trying to run away and hide, and I shouldn't—"

"No, Buffy, you're not venting! And you have to vent," Willow insisted. "Even if you were wrong to have those feelings, you had them, and you have to let them out, or you'll still be suffering."

"Not to mention, maybe you'll get all oogly and want to kill us again or something," a worried Dawn chimed in.

"I would never hurt you guys!" Buffy protested, before catching herself. "Except for the fact that I just did."

"Hey, pain, psychosis, near-death experiences—it's just Sunnydale's way of spicing up the slow nights." Xander reassured the conflicted slayer. "No big. Back to the screaming. Only...don't overdo it, okay?"

"Okay,' Buffy said. "But you're not getting off that easily. I'm going to be screaming at you, too."

"Why are you screaming at Xander?" Anya said, having just walked into the house. "I should be screaming at Xander, he's mine!"

***************************************************

"Anya! You're back!" Xander exclaimed, rising and cautiously moving towards his former fiancee.

"Yes," Anya agreed, turning to explain to the room at large. "D'Hoffryn took me to Arashmaharr, so I could become a Vengeance Demon again."

Xander swiftly retraced his steps, casting an eye towards the weapons chest as Dawn took cover behind him.

"Oh," Buffy said, reflexively standing between the scorned shopkeeper and Willow. "And did you?"

"No," Anya admitted. "It was tempting, but it would have been an easy solution; it wouldn't have worked. I have to work through my issues."

Anya turned to face the only human she had ever truly loved. (Said human was now hovering uncertainly in front of the couch, as Dawn took a few discrete steps away, out of the line of potential fire.)

"Xander," Anya declared, "I spent a thousand years punishing men, living only for pain and destruction and Vengeance. Which was quite enjoyable. Although not for the men. Except for the masochists. It took me three centuries before I got the hang of tormenting them with soft pillows and—"

"Uh? Ahn?" Xander interrupted, his impatience overriding his sense of self-preservation.

"—feathers, although sometimes that didn't work because the feathers made them sneeze and the sneezes were painful and the masochists liked that—I'm sorry, what?" Anya asked, snapping out of her reverie.

"The point," Buffy prodded. "It's probably over that way," she added, tilting her head towards Xander.

"Oh. Yes. Thank you." Anya refocused and resumed. "Xander, while causing suffering and anguish made me happy, I was only half alive. I was a mere device, summoned and used by women for their own needs, and then forgotten."

"But then I became human, and I met you," Anya continued, as Buffy relaxed and sat on the arm of Willow's chair. Anya took a couple of steps towards her estranged beau, lowering her voice and gazing intensely at Xander's face. "Xander, you made me feel alive in ways I never felt before, ways I hadn't even dreamed of for a thousand years. When I was with you, I was a complete woman, and I loved you with my complete set of parts. You made me feel safe and warm and whole and cared for, and despite how badly you hurt me, I've come to realize that I don't want to be a demon any more. I want to feel the way you made me feel; I want to feel love like that again."

An amazed smile spread over Xander's face as he struggled to comprehend his good luck. The one woman he was sure he would never have wanted as an ex had been more forgiving than he could ever have hoped.

Dawn cocked an eyebrow as her face let go of some of the tension it always bore when Anya was around. She turned to her sister and gave a hopeful half-smile. Buffy beamed back at full force, thankful that one couple would get a happy ending, and reached back and took Willow's hand in her own. She turned to look the redhead in the eyes, and gently squeezed her best friend's hand.

"Oh, God, Ahn," Xander finally managed to say, moving forward and taking the ex-demon in his arms.

"HEY!" Anya snapped, pushing him away. "What do you think you're doing??"

"But, but, you said—" Xander spluttered, his thoughts an utter jumble. "I thought you wanted to—"

"I said I wanted to feel that way again! But not with YOU!" Anya raged. "Never with YOU! I HATE you!! You ripped my heart out of my chest and threw it to the ground and kicked it under a table and then pulled it out from under there so you could hurt it some more and put on golf shoes so you could poke holes in it when you did a tap dance on it! I would never take you back!"

A shocked silence followed as Xander gulped, before asking: