Still Life With Missing Chances
by Patricia R.D.

Before Sunnydale, there was Los Angeles, city of Angels, corruption, and Lilah Morgan. For Anya, it was one and the same.

Since her humble begginings as a young betrayed mortal, Anyanka treated all men with the same hatred, fulfilling wishes of scorned women and laughing over the male's misfortunes. Sometimes she's take one of the girls to her bed to keep her company for while, but it was all about about a physical need. She was fine on her own. Then she met Lilah.

For starters, Lilah wasn't a scorned woman. She didn't even seen intersted in men when Anya entered that bar, looking for a few hours of leisure. Her gaze inmediatly fell on the hot brunette with the expensive Armani suit. That beauty screamed at a vague memory in the back of Anya's brain. But at the time her demonic self couldn't place it. So many decades, so many scorned women, so many men destroyed.

So she sat next to Armani Beauty, ordered a gin and tonic and started a casual conversation. Three more drinks and a few more streets later, as they entered Lilah's apartment, Anya remembered her.


Of course she had cried after he'd broked it up. For a full night, big, bitter tears spilled from her beautiful eyes to the cheap cotton pillowcase, running mascara staining the fabric. But that was in the privacy of her bedroom. To the outside wolrd, Delilah Morgan was the Ice Queen, taking her bittersweet breakup with Chad Benson, the captain of the football team with a smile and a shrug. She wasn't even bothered by his passing next to her in the school hallways, big arm wrapped around the skinny waist of Maggie Gardner. Young Lilah didn't have the cash or the popularity that seems to come attached to money, but her lovely face and shapely legs had been enough for Chad until Maggie had decided she wanted him for her. And who was he to say no to such a prized chick?

He was nothing, Lilah had decided between the crying and the tearing up of pictures. She was not going to let any man reduce her to tears anymore. She didn't need them. She had a 4.0 average, good looks and ambition. It was not like she was planning on staying around and marry the local jock and become the mother of his five children while he started drinking and getting fat in front of the tv, remembering the good old days. Lilah was going places.And in the end, Chad would had been an obstacle.

Besides, who needed a boyfriend when cool girlfriends like Annie were around?

It had been Annie the one who would lie down next to Lilah on their sleepovers, ice cream breath sweet and cool against Lilah's feverish skin as she had whispered comforting words and cursed all men. Then let her hands do the talking as she brought Lilah a different kind of comfort. Annie was the best. She had been the one pointing what Lilah already knew: Chad was the real problem. The breakup had been for the best. And besides, wouldn't Lilah wish...

By then Lilah interrupted Annie's speeches and with a gentle kiss and a comment about algebra homework. No time to ponder about the jerk and what could had been or what they wished happened to him. Lilah just wanted to move on now, concentrate on the happy shiny future in front of her. And Annie. Because for the time being, Annie was the only person she wanted around. No matter how many times people would turn and look at them and shake their heads and whisper "Dyke" behind their backs, there was no problem at all.

But of course, good things always come to an end. And their strange relationship ended one sunny may afternoon. It wasn't about the girls drifting away, or someone else getting between them. It just had to do with the words Annie had asked for. And yet, never expected.

For Lilah wished for power. The real kind. Something beyond happy endings and everyday life. Because she thought enough power would take the place of love in her young heart.

The next morning, Annie was gone. And Lilah had a scholarship and her plane ticket to a new life.


Of course Lilah doesn't remember. After all, a lot of time has passed and Annie the best friend was a whole lot different than Anyanka, the Vengeance Demon, or Anya, the Demon on a rest/ young woman who took in Lilah's invitation for more drinks at this nice apartment. Anya, who know sits on the edge of the bed, watching Lilah streth lazily under the covers. Egyptian cotton, strangely similar to the old cheap one, so washed up it felt like silk against the skin. Some things never changed. Lilah, sadly, wasn't one of them. As she starts to gather her clothes, Anya wonders if power will ever be enough for Lilah. If she can actually be this strong forever by keeping her heart close. Maybe, maybe not.

As she leaves the room, the question keeps tormenting her.


She can't help it. Curiousity takes the best of her and she starts asking around, going to the people who knew her as a demon. This is how she hears about Wesley Whyndam-Price, the short but passionated relationship, the breakup, Lilah's survival of the Wolfram and Hart massacre, her hiding status. She stares at the phone for hours, willing herself to call in some favors, find Lilah and get the hell away from this madness. But she doesn't. Instead she ponders about their ends: slaves to their emotions, hearts broken. Was the little pleasure worth a lifetime of pain?

The news of Lilah's death come on a rainy night. Anya sits by the window, thinking of what could had been. But doesn't cry.


The day Anya dies is bright and sunny. But she dies indoors, cold metal sliding into flesh and ripping her life away. She dimly wonders if this what Lilah felt: Short, sharp shock, tear running down her cheek, life actually passing in front of her eyes.

She can see clearly now. An epiphany. And yet, something she knew all along. And Lilah probably did too.

Yes, it was.

Worth every second.


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