TITLE: Your Yellow Hair
AUTHOR: vatwoman
PAIRING: Giles/Anya (friendship)
RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy et al, own Giles and Anya. Stephen Sondheim owns the song `Johanna' from Sweeney Todd. No copyright infringement intended.
BLURB: this isn't a songfic; rather it's a fic with a song in it. In the song, I've substituted `Oh Anya' for `Johanna'
DEDICATION: to Sally, who has opened my eyes to the delights of a certain Victor Garber, both as an actor and, especially, as a singer, and who was as upset as I was at what happened to Anya in the last episode of `Buffy.'

"Oh, here you are. It's night. You're supposed to be in bed. She's very pretty."

Giles closed his eyes to the world outside his window, and when he opened them she was standing there, perfect, as reflections always are.

"Yes, she is."

"What's her name?"

"Anna." Giles turned around, "Anna Freer."

"Anna's a pretty name. Still - Anna, Anya - must have been confusing sometimes."

In that split second before he replied Giles saw moments, all the moments, between himself and this woman, and just smiled. "No, I was always quite clear about who I was employing and who I was having orgasms with."

"Why didn't you tell us about her?" Anya asked, ignoring the gentle sarcasm of his comment. "It wasn't as if we didn't have any uncomfortable silences that needed to be filled. And it wasn't as if Xander and I *wanted* to be the `let's give the troops a laugh at our love life' couple, especially not when you could have given everyone a break by announcing that you have an orgasm friend stashed away here in jolly old England, where the sun never shines, and it rains all the time, and you have this really beautiful home, and …"

"… can I touch you?"

"I don't know," Anya replied. She reached up to pat down her hair. "*I* can touch me. See?"

Giles came across the room, stopped in front of her and looked down into her eyes. He drifted a hand across her hair, barely disturbing the strands she'd just straightened. "I can touch you." Her body hit his in the out-of-control hug she used on him and no-one else, and this time he caught her and held on. "I wanted you to come and say goodbye."

"Like it made sense that I would," she huffed out.

"You're here, though, aren't you? So it did … *does* … make sense."

"I guess." She pushed her head into his chest, "I'm sad to be dead, Giles; there's still so much I wanted to say to you."

"Say it to me now." He tightened his arms around her, and cradled her head against his heart.

"I held the north hall."

"I know you did."

"I was scared, but then I just imagined they were bunnies." His breathing stopped. She leaned back so she could look at him. "Are you crying?" Giles shook his head, denying the tears that slipped down his face. "Good." She thumped her head back down onto his chest, "Because it's stupid! There's no point in crying over spilled tea."

"Milk," Giles corrected automatically.

"I don't like milk."

"I know that too."

"Xander never remembered."

"I'll look after him for you."

Anya shook her head, "No, not for me. For *him*. Do it for him because he's only got one eye now, and something could sneak up on him …"

"… nothing's going to sneak up on him …"

"… what if something sneaks up on him …"

"… nothing's going to sneak up on him …"

"… you'll look after him?"

"I'll look after him."

"I could just stay."

"Wouldn't the Powers be angry?"

"Who cares about them? Maybe you could kidnap me?"

"*I* care about them, and perhaps I could."

"No you can't."

This time it was Giles who leaned away, "No, I can't, but it doesn't mean I don't want to."

Anya nodded, "Like kissing you again; I knew I couldn't, but it didn't mean I didn't want to." She shrugged, "That was something else I wanted to say to you." She touched a finger to his lips to stop him from speaking when he would have spoken, "That, and you have a nice smile. And I like your oddly mismatching eyes. And …" She stopped, turned in the circle of his arms, and stared across the room, nodding at the beginning of the vortex there that she knew Giles wouldn't yet be able to see, "… I think you're a really good singer. Will you sing to me, Giles?" She leaned back against him, "I think I'd like that."

"What would you like me to sing?" He closed his arms around her.

"I don't know. I don't know any songs, except a bunch of old stuff that put the plain into plainchant." She felt his head come to rest on hers, "And those stupid songs we all sang right before you left again, and Xander left me at the altar, and Tara got killed, and everything went to pieces." She shuddered and felt his arms tighten, "I have to go now, Giles."

He nodded, knowing she had to go, but even knowing, tried to hold her with a favour, "What about your song?"

"Sing it to me. Now. Now, when I'll be able to hear it forever."

" `I feel you, oh Anya.' "

"Those aren't the right words." The vortex was calling, summoning her.

"I thought you didn't know any songs?" There was a subtle shift in the air, and she was suddenly almost insubstantial in his arms.

"Show tunes don't count as songs: they're just out-loud thoughts. I thought you knew that."

"I do. Do you want me to sing something else?" He might have felt a shrug, but he wasn't sure; he couldn't tell any more what was Anya and what was his memory of her.

" `I feel you
Oh Anya
I feel you.
I was half convinced I'd waken,
Satisfied enough to dream you.
Happily I was mistaken,
Oh Anya!
I'll steal you,
Oh Anya,
I'll steal you!
Do they think that walls can hide you?
Even now I'm at your window.
I am in the dark beside you,
Buried sweetly in your yellow hair.' "

Anya sighed, "I like this song." The room brightened as the vortex, the conduit, opened fully. "Who'd have thought a demon would get to go to heaven, Giles?"

He felt her body move towards the light, and he pulled her back, just for a moment, bent, pressed his mouth to her yellow hair, and kissed her. "Safe journey, Anya."

"Thanks, Giles."

And she was gone, a good soul taken home. Giles straightened up and watched the vortex close.

"Giles?" Anna was there, rubbing her arms in the coolness of the night-dark living room. "Were you singing?"

"I was saying goodbye to a friend."

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

Anna nodded, "I'll go back to bed, then."

"I'll …" Giles gestured to the room around them, "… I need a few more minutes."

"Ok."

She left, and Giles turned back to the window. The street outside was dark, but for the pools of light cast by the street lamps.

Like tiny pieces of heaven come down to earth.

Like soft curls of yellow hair.

END

20th May 2003