Friends Last

Halfreck rattled off a stream of obscenities at Slake as she tugged the moist, fallen palm tree branches back to the beach. Her arms and hands were stinging; a result of many cuts and scrapes from the tree’s thorns. Her mind played through the myriad of ways that she planned to torture the man when, and if, she ever got out of this. The list wasn’t pretty.

She threw the heavy leaves into the growing pile and sat down next to it. She was agitated. The sand creeping into her every crevice wasn’t helping her mood any. She was grateful, at least, for the small stream that ran through the center of the island. It was filled with cold, clean water. She had visited that stream several times during her task of gathering branches.

Anya returned a short time later, a triumphant look on her face. “Dinnertime!” she cried.

Halfreck stood up. “You found something?”

Anya proudly held up four coconuts. She dropped them down on the sand next to the pile of branches. “There’s plenty more where those came from,” she said.

“Let’s see if we can get a fire going,” Halfreck said. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Anya’s eyes lit up. “Wait a minute,” she said, running over to where their clothes were hanging. She rummaged around in the pocket of her shorts and produced her lighter. “Wonder if it still works,” she said. To her utter delight, a small flame danced from the top when she struck it.

“Wonderful!” Halfreck exclaimed. She began piling the branches into a sort of teepee form. The sun was hanging low in the sky.

“Here’s hoping,” Anya said as she held the lighter to the bottom branch. After several seconds, the wood began to smolder and catch on fire. “I think the rain actually helped us,” she said. “They won’t burn as fast.”

Halfreck nodded. “At least that is in our favor.”

“Halle, you’re bleeding.” Anya lifted her friend’s arm, examining the many cuts and scrapes. She ran her finger over one of the deeper ones. “Does it hurt?”

“Not so much,” Halfreck replied. “I’ll live.”

Anya laughed. “Sure, you will.” She took hold of Halfreck’s hand and led her to the coconuts. “Now how do we eat these?”

Halfreck’s eyes widened as Anya took her hand. She allowed herself to be led by her friend but didn’t release her hand when they reached their destination. She didn’t even notice that Anya was holding on just as tightly.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Are you sure they are edible?”

“Well, there is coconut in candy bars. Those are edible. Make you fat though. You don’t think that coconut is fattening, do you?”

Halfreck laughed. “It really doesn’t matter at this point, does it?”

Anya grinned. She knelt down and picked up a coconut. “It’s hairy,” she said.

“Indeed.”

“That’s gross.”

“Indeed.”

“You try it first.”

Halfreck took the coconut from her and sniffed it. “Doesn’t smell appetizing,” she said.

“Maybe we have to open it,” Anya suggested.

Halfreck reluctantly released Anya’s hand and attempted to break the coconut in half. “Nothing doing,” she said. “This thing is harder than Slake’s head.”

Anya looked at Halfreck, wondering what would have possessed her to take up with a man. She pushed away her curiosity and took the offending hairball from her friend. “Maybe we should pull its hair out.”

Halfreck grinned. “Now that’s the Anyanka I know and respect.”

Anya smiled and took hold of a few strands. “Here goes,” she muttered. She tugged them off, half expecting the thing to explode. Nothing happened.

“Let me try,” Halfreck said.

Over the next twenty minutes, the coconut became bald. And the two were still as hungry as they were when they started. Maybe more so. “How did humans decide that these were edible?” Halfreck wondered. With one final attempt to pry it apart with her hands, she gave a frustrated growl and hurled it as hard as she could.

Anya watched as the coconut sailed right past her eyes. It connected with one of the many large rocks that were scattered on the island with a satisfying crunch. Two pairs of eyes widened as the coconut broke in half, landing with a soft thud on the sand.

“Nice shot!” Anya said approvingly.

Halfreck just smirked. “Serves you right, you damn thing,” she said to the aberrant fruit.

She led Anya to the rock and each of them took up a half. “Smells good, anyway,” Halfreck said.

Each of them took a taste before tearing into them like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Anya realized that if she had to be stranded on a strange island, there were worse people to be stuck with.

Halfreck smiled at Anya over her half. This wasn’t so bad. They had water, they had food. She had Anya. The latter being the most important of all at the moment.



“Not bloody likely.”

“No fucking way. With him? This is a joke, right?”

“Find yourself another guinea pig, Slayer, this one’s not biting.”

Spike and Xander sat side by side on the Summer’s sofa. The sun had set nearly an hour ago and it had taken every ounce of Buffy’s strength to keep her cool and not to drag Spike back to the house kicking and screaming.

Xander was a little easier to convince. Willow had called him, told him she needed help, and he arrived shortly after. Upon seeing Spike in the house, he had immediately turned for the door, only to find it closed by Dawn, who was standing guard in front of it, smiling sweetly.

Dawn and Willow had managed to calm them down enough to allow Tara to explain the situation. As expected, neither took the news very well.

“Just what makes you think that I am going to go out of my way to help him?” Spike asked.

Buffy, growing ever more impatient with the entire situation, produced a stake from her belt. “Mr. Pointy thinks that you will.”

Spike glowered at her. “How eloquent.”

“Maybe you should dust him anyway, Buff. Hey I’ll even volunteer to clean up the mess afterward.”

“Xander, right now he’s the only one who can help us,” Buffy pointed out.

“That wouldn’t be a problem for you, wanker. You’re used to cleaning up after other people aren’t you?”

“Oh, that hurt. Save it, Oh Impotent One.”

“Your girlfriend didn’t think I was so impotent.”

“Oh that’s it.” Xander threw himself into Spike, knocking him to the ground. He delivered several blows to Spike’s face before Spike retaliated with a solid punch, sending Xander flying across the living room. Instantaneously, the all too familiar blinding pain shot through his skull as the chip activated. His hands flew to his head as he screamed out in agony.

Tara and Willow glanced at each other. This was never going to work.


The fire burned brightly, offering more light than that of the nearly full moon hanging low in the sky. Halfreck and Anya had donned their clothes and were now sitting together in front of the fire. The air was chilly but the blaze was warm and inviting. Halfreck had spread her cloak on the sand, providing some protection from the ground.

“Have you ever been in love?” Anya asked suddenly.

Halfreck looked at her. “No.”

“It is not pleasant.” Anya stated.

“I would imagine not,” Halfreck responded. “There is no way I would offer anyone that much power over me.”

“Maybe that’s where I went wrong,” Anya mused.

“Perhaps,” Halfreck said. “But it was your choice.”

Anya nodded. “I know I chose to stop with the vengeance. But I didn’t choose to fall in love.”

“You chose to let your guard down.”

“I suppose so,” Anya relented. “Do you think anyone even knows that we are gone?”

Halfreck shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t have any pressing engagements when I came to see you. Did you?” she asked hopefully.

Anya shook her head. “No one will notice I’m gone until tomorrow morning when I don’t show up at the Magic Box.”

“So we’re here for the night, at least.”

Anya nodded. “Looks that way.”

Halfreck sighed. “Well, there are worse situations to be in.”

“Absolutely.”

Anya didn’t know if Halfreck heard the hidden meaning in her response. In fact, she herself didn’t hear it until the word was out. Of course, she had missed spending time with her friend, but for some reason she was very comforted by the fact that Halfreck was there with her. She wondered if she would feel that way for anyone who was stuck in this situation with her. It was something to think about.

Halfreck stood up and poked at the fire with a stick. She couldn’t stand sitting so close to Anya any longer without going crazy. The woman radiated more sexual prowess than anything she had ever encountered. “You may as well try to get some sleep sweetie,” she said.

“I’m not tired,” Anya said, following by a jaw cracking yawn. She laughed and allowed herself to fall back onto the cloak. “You’re not going to sleep?” she asked.

“No,” Halfreck replied. “Someone has to keep the fire going.”

“I can do that,” Anya offered.

“No need,” Halfreck said. “I’m wide awake.”

Anya closed her eyes. “Wake me up if you need anything. Or if you’re bored. Or want to talk. Or…whatever.”

“I will,” Halfreck promised. “Good night.”

“Good night.”


Buffy paced the room once again. This was not going well at all. Xander was sitting in the chair, Willow at his side, holding an ice pack to the side of his face. Dawn sat on the couch with Spike, trying to wipe the blood from his nose between his frequent attempts to shoo her hands away.

Tara came in from the kitchen carrying a tray with six mugs. “Who wants coffee?” she asked. Willow and Buffy each took a cup. “Tea?” Dawn raised her hand. “And I think it’s safe to assume that the blood would be for Mr. Grouchy.” She handed a mug to Spike and took the last cup of tea for herself. “Okay,” she began. “I need to know what is going on. Are you going or not?”

“Not.” The two male voices came as one.

Buffy flashed her stake at Spike. “Bloody hell. Fine, whatever.”

“Xander?” Tara asked.

Xander looked at her. “How do I know that once we get there that Captain Peroxide isn’t going to just ditch me?”

“He won’t,” Dawn spoke up.

“And what makes you think I wouldn’t, Niblet?”

“I just know,” Dawn replied, taking the opportunity to take another wipe at his nose with the tissue.

“That’s it,” Tara said abruptly. “Xander, Spike, upstairs now. This ends here.” The entire room went silent. No one moved. “What? I can be butch when I have to.”

Buffy pulled first Spike, then Xander to their feet. Tara led the way upstairs and held the bathroom door open for Buffy who pushed the pair through. Tara pulled the door shut and muttered a short chant.

They began banging on the door. “Tara! Let us out!”

“What did you do?” Buffy whispered.

“That door won’t open until I say it will,” Tara replied. “You hear that? You two are going to be stuck in there until you come to some sort of understanding. I don’t care if it takes all night.”

Willow and Dawn looked up as Buffy and Tara descended the stairs. “Where are they?” Willow asked.

“Locked in the bathroom,” Buffy replied with a laugh.

“Do you think that’s safe?” Dawn asked. “Spike can’t defend himself against Xander.”

“They’ll be fine,” Tara said with a shy smile. “I have to go to the Magic Box. I need a few things for this spell. Buffy, I think you should go on patrol. You are doing no one any good raging around here. Use your anger for some productive slayage.”

Buffy slowly nodded. She couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around all night with the racket going on above their heads.

“I’ll go with you,” Willow volunteered.

Tara smiled. “Okay. Dawnie, you stay down here and keep an ear to the ground…or ceiling, as it may be. If it gets too out of hand, let one of us know.” Dawn nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”


Spike sat on the floor, leaning on the bathroom door for support, the remnants of his headache still prominent. He methodically massaged his temples, willing the pain to go away. He was pissed. But not for the reasons that everyone else just assumed. True, he didn’t favor the idea of willingly jumping into an alternate dimension from which he may never return. He was pissed about the chip, he was pissed about Buffy’s not so veiled threat, and he was pissed about having to drink warmed over pig’s blood. But mostly he was pissed with himself. He hadn’t wanted to hit Xander. Sure, calling him names and teasing him was fine. It was expected. Almost comforting somehow. But he knew he had crossed a line when he laid a hand on him.

Spike had trouble recalling the exact time when he started to feel a bit of respect for the boy. All he knew was that the shred of respect that was planted had matured into full-blown infatuation. He was no stranger to feeling this way for a man. Angelus had expected no less. Sure, he had feelings for Buffy as well. But recently they had been less prevalent in his mind as thoughts of Xander threatened to overtake his entire existence.

No one knew the real reason he had attacked Buffy that fateful night. He had been out at one of his favorite hideouts, flirting with a pretty young vampire. Things had rapidly progressed to a sexual nature and, in short, in the throes of passion Spike had called out Xander’s name. The girl, needless to say, was not impressed, and stood up, calling Spike every derogatory homosexual name in the book. Spike, embarrassed at his faux pas, immediately jumped on the defensive as every demon in the building began laughing and taunting him. The result was his attempt at getting to Buffy. Trying to prove to everyone, though no one else was there, that he was as normal as the next undead guy. But his plan backfired. Not only did he hurt Buffy, he drove the stake of separation even further between himself and Xander. He raised his eyes to the object of his desire. Xander sat on the edge of the bathtub, nursing his bruised jaw.

“What are you staring at?” Xander questioned, feeling Spike’s gaze on him.

“Nothing.” Spike let his head fall back onto the bathroom door. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Lighting it, he inhaled deeply and blew out the smoke, watching it curl upward. He had really blown it this time.