Y is for Yahweh
DISTRIBUTION: Twisting the Hellmouth
CROSSOVER: Bruce Almighty
SUMMARY: Anyanka goes on vacation, granting wishes across the multiverse.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the characters. They belong to a lot of people who aren’t me. I don't own Buffy, Star Trek or Bruce Almighty.
It wasn’t much of a gravesite. Just a picture on a fence covered in the well wishes of loved ones. The crater that had been Sunnydale lay beyond, and the memorial had blessedly few names or pictures. Most people had gotten out in time.
Xander stared at the picture and sighed. It was one of the few he had left of her. Even now he still felt numb. Facing a world without her in it bewildered him.
When he closed his eyes, he could still see her dancing her happy dance. She’d taken such joy in life, joy that he hadn’t been able to find in his own life for years.
It wasn’t going to be the same without her.
He felt a presence behind him and he turned quickly.
An older African-American man in a white suit stood behind him, lit in a ray of sunshine. He wasn’t anyone Xander recognized, but there was something about his face that was familiar somehow. Xander didn’t feel that he was in danger, which was odd. These days he rarely felt any other way.
The man was looking at intently at the picture of Anya.
“You knew her?” Xander asked. Anya had made a few friends among the small business association meetings.
“She worked for me for a while.” The man’s voice was deep and cultured, yet there was a sense of irony to his words that didn’t seem to fit.
Xander frowned. “I don’t remember her working for anyone but Giles.”
“Before she changed.” The man stared at the picture for a moment and sighed.
Xander backed up a step. “During her Vengeance days.” His voice was flat, and he found himself rapidly reassessing the man. He’d heard enough about her time as a Vengeance Demon to know that anyone who had employed her was bad news.
“Technically she was working through a couple of intermediaries,” the man said. He smiled. “But she did the things I needed her to do.”
Xander felt a sense of inner peace, and he instantly distrusted it.
“Did she ever tell you about her time working for the Q?” the man looked at Xander, and it was as though He was staring into his soul.
“She had some story about seeing the actual Death Star blow up,” Xander said. “If that’s what you mean.”
“Anya was a truthful girl,” the man said. He stepped forward and adjusted the picture slightly.
“Why are you here?” Xander tried to keep the resentment out of his voice.
“What would you wish for,” the man said. “If you could have any wish for Anya?”
“It’s not safe using the wish word,” Xander said. Years on the Hellmouth had made him cautious.
“That’s not an issue here,” the man said flatly, and somehow Xander found himself believing it. “Would you wish she hadn’t died?”
Xander shook his head. “She taught me better. Wishes are tricky. You can’t ever know the ultimate consequences. I guess if I had to make a wish, I’d wish that she was happy wherever she ended up.”
The man smiled suddenly. “That’s a great answer.”
Suddenly, he found himself staring at the ground. “It worries me sometimes, where she’s going to end up. After everything she’s done…”
“Redemption is a rockier road for some than others,” the man admitted. “But there is very little that can’t be forgiven.”
“I hope so.” Xander said morosely.
The man threw his arm over Xander’s shoulder and said, “Have you ever considered having the power of God?”
“Of a god, you mean?”
“No. I mean the power of God…the parting of the Red Sea, walking on water…the whole nine yards.”
“Well, it’d be tempting, but it seems to me that it might be more trouble than it’s worth.”
“Oh?” the man said.
“It seems to me like it would come with all sorts of responsibilities. People praying, keeping everything in order…those are pretty big stakes. It’d be easy to really screw up people’s lives.”
Xander thought of some of Anya’s stories and he shuddered. “I’d probably misuse it, so maybe it’s better that I don’t have it.”
“You’ve got a lot more sense than people credit you for.” The man smiled. “I’ve always liked people who work with their hands. Did I ever tell you my Son was a carpenter?”
Xander hesitated. “So I don’t have to worry about Anya?”
The man shook his head. “She’ll be just fine.”
When He smiled, Xander suddenly had the feeling that it was all going to be all right. Anya was going to be happy, and in the end, that was all that mattered.
He only wished he could see it.