DISCLAIMER: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel characters are the property of Mutant Enemy, Joss Whedon, Lazy Dave, Kuzui, Dark Horse, and Fox Studios. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2007 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG.
Starting Over
by Djinn
Giles watched as the door to
Buffy's room closed firmly in his face, a very angry Buffy on the other side of
it. Angry, but
restrained. He'd tried to kill
Spike; she could have thrown him through a wall and not surprised him. Except she had more control than that.
He'd failed her. By trying to save her, he'd failed her.
"That didn't work out
the way you thought it would, eh, Rupie?" Spike's taunting voice. Spike's taunting laugh. He was no doubt wearing a taunting grin.
Giles should have killed
Spike himself, not left him to Robin.
"I have nothing to say to you."
"Is that so? No, 'Sorry I tried
to off you, Spike'?"
Giles turned to him, putting
on his best watcher face, even as he took in the damage Robin had inflicted--he
wondered how much damage Spike had paid back to Robin. "No, actually. No apologies.
Not to you. Not from me. Ever."
"You reckon she's
listening? Hearing us have
a go out here?" Spike smiled. A predator's smile. "I'm all fixed now. I owe you for that. You and the
principal." He started to
hum the little song that was his trigger.
That had been his trigger. It
obviously did nothing to him now.
"Well, good. The girls will
be relieved." Giles moved past
Spike, toward the stairs, willing himself not to flinch as he brushed past the
leather coat that had been Nikki Wood's.
This...man had destroyed her.
"I've changed. Why can't you see that?" Spike sounded petulant. Like a child.
"You gave Angel a chance. Why not me?"
He turned,
his hand on the banister. "Because you're not Angel."
Spike's eyes went dead. For a moment, Giles thought he might push him
down the stairs. But then he just
laughed. "And how glad am I for
that?" Striding to Buffy's door, he
murmured, "Let me in, love."
Giles felt something tighten
inside him, then it locked up even more when his
slayer opened the door for Spike.
"Nighty-night,"
Spike said with another of his taunting grins.
Giles turned and walked down
the stairs. Andrew looked up as he
walked into the dining room.
"Something
wrong?" Andrew asked as he
ate a snack cake. "Buffy looked pi-issed when she came in."
Giles ignored him, going to
the most out-of-the-way cabinet in the kitchen and reaching high and in the
back. There--his bottle of Scotch.
"Ooh, I'm telling."
He let Andrew get a taste of
Ripper. One good glare and then he shut him back away.
"Or
not." Andrew gulped.
Taking the bottle, Giles
headed outside. He'd get very drunk
until he could pretend that he hadn't just ruined everything. For nothing.
--------------
Giles paced, waiting for
Buffy to come back from the Vineyard. He
still felt that this new player was setting a trap for his slayer.
Only she wasn't his slayer,
anymore. She'd made that abundantly
clear, in front of all the girls.
"They'll be okay,
Giles." Willow gave him her sweet
little smile. The one that meant she was
as worried as he was but was trying to be brave.
"Of course,
Willow."
She moved closer. "Buffy told me what happened. With Spike."
"Am I going to get a
lecture from you?" He supposed she
had to come out on Buffy's side. She was
her best friend.
"Giles, I don't begin to
understand Buffy's relationship with Spike.
But Spike's helped us. Helped you. Even before he had a soul.
To just kill him..."
"He was a pawn of The First."
"Yeah. Was. Big past tense."
"Only
because of my brilliant plan." He sighed.
"Willow, he pulls her down."
"Maybe. But you don't
get to decide that. None of us do. It's...her choice." She smiled sadly. "I remember when Tara and I first met,
how it felt going down a road I never knew I'd be taking--or even would have
considered a few years earlier. It's a
lot easier to make that kind of journey if you're friends aren't ganging up on
you."
The phone saved him from
having to admit she was right. She
hurried to get it. "Hello? Buffy what--"
He heaved a gentle sigh of
relief. Buffy was alive.
Willow's look changed; she
met his eyes, shook her head as she listened to Buffy. "We'll be right there."
"What is it?"
"We have to
go." Power crackled around her, and
for a moment Giles thought she might open a portal to take them there. Then she seemed to gain control. "It's Xander."
She started to cry, then stopped the tears as if by force alone. "And we lost Molly and
Dianne." She sniffed but shook her
head. "Let's go. A lot more are hurt."
"How bad is--"
"It's bad, Giles. It's more than bad." She rushed past him, out to his car.
He followed more slowly,
wondering if perhaps Spike had been among the wounded, then hating himself for
being so petty.
--------------------
Giles stood and watched his
slayer leave her own house, kicked out by the girls she'd tried so hard to
lead, to mold. He felt a sickness fill
him. What in God's name was he doing? They needed Buffy. They needed her strength and her resolve.
Her eyes haunted him. The disbelief in them. None of them had ever questioned her. Not this way.
Would he have let anyone
question her this way if she were still his slayer? Had he just paid back her recent coldness
with his lack of support?
As the girls dispersed, got
ready for bed, he saw Robin watching him.
"She'll be all right,
Rupert."
"Will she?"
Giles had done this
before. With that
dancing demon, sent her off alone.
But that had been to wake her up.
This--this had been to save her.
He was always doing things to
save her. When she no
longer wanted anything of the sort.
"She was out of control,"
Robin said.
"No, she wasn't. She's just being what she was born to be,
what she was called to be." Giles
closed his eyes. "I'm very
tired. I think I need to be alone."
He headed for the basement,
empty now with Spike and Andrew gone to the mission up north. Sitting on the stairs, Giles ran his fingers
through his hair and tried to will his racing heart to slow. Had he known this was coming? Had Buffy been right, that he'd sent Spike
away on purpose?
He heard the creak of a door,
then a heavy tread. Xander sat down next
to him. "What's the what,
G-man?"
"I'm not feeling very
jaunty, Xander." He was saying this
to a man who'd just lost an eye?
"Yeah, strangely, me
neither." Xander sighed. "We did the right thing, didn't
we?"
"I have to think
so." But his heart wasn't agreeing
with his brain.
Xander touched his cheek, under
his ruined eye. "I just don't want
this to happen to anyone else. And I
don't want any more girls to die."
"They probably will
die. More of
them." Maybe all of them,
now that he'd sent away the one person who could probably make a difference in how
things turned out.
"You sound like
Anya." Xander shook his head. "You think she's all right out
there?"
Giles knew he wasn't talking
about Anya. "I hope so."
They sat in silence, until
finally Xander got up and laid his hand on Giles's shoulder. "It'll be all right."
"No, Xander. I'm very much afraid that it won't ever be
all right again."
-----------------------
She was all right. Buffy was all right, had come home carrying a
weapon that looked like it belonged in her hands-- a weapon Willow was now
trying to figure the origins of. He was
supposed to be in there with her, but Buffy's voice had drawn him out of the
room.
Buffy glanced over at him
without actually making eye contact, a hint of the betrayal she must still feel
in her expression, but then she shut it down and became the Slayer, not
Buffy. Not the girl--the woman--he'd let
down.
"How is Faith?"
Giles asked Anya as she walked out of the room he'd put the injured slayer in.
"Doing
better." She glanced over at Buffy with a look of
grudging respect. "You slayers are
hardy things. Hard to blow
up. Or drown."
Buffy met Giles's eyes. "Yeah. Go us."
He forced himself not to look
away. She was actually making an effort,
even if her eyes were very hard and her mouth set in a tight line.
"You survived it,"
he said softly. "She will,
too."
"With
a little help from our friends?" She sighed.
"Xander for me. A whole lot of slayer wannabes for her."
Anya was frowning in a way
that normally did not bode well for those around her. "What do you mean Xander for you?"
"He resuscitated
her. When she died fighting the Master. You know that." Didn't she know that? Would Xander have kept that from her?
"Oh, that's what he
meant."
Giles would not want to be Xander later.
Buffy didn't look like she cared one way or the other. "So, Buffy, this weapon you
found..."
"You have something on
it?"
"No. But...I was thinking...if it feels right for
you to hold it, maybe it would help Faith?"
"Hmmm." Buffy looked
ambivalent, then his slayer was gone again and the general he'd been so keen to
make her into was back. "I need her
in this fight. Let's try it."
She walked into Willow's room
and retrieved the scythe, then nodded for him to follow her in to her bedroom.
Faith's color was better than
it had been, and Giles relaxed a little.
She was crucial to the fight. "She
is looking better."
"She's survived a
lot." Buffy didn't sound entirely
joyful over that, and Giles couldn't blame her.
Bending down, Buffy settled the scythe in Faith's arm the way a prom
queen would hold her scepter.
Faith sighed and a small smile crossed her face. Her breathing sounded stronger.
"Score one for
you." Buffy turned hard eyes on
him. "That still leaves you behind,
in case you were keeping track."
"I know you're angry at
me."
"Angry?" Buffy laughed. The mean, soft laugh she only brought out
when she was very, very stressed.
"I'm not angry, Giles. I'm
hurt. I'm lost. The one person I knew I could count on
betrayed me." She moved closer,
looked up at him, her eyes boring into his.
"But really, what did I expect?
Last year you left me. When I
needed you, you left."
"You know that I was
only doing--"
"What's best for
me? Yeah, that's getting old." She turned back to Faith.
"Buffy, we cannot afford
to be at odds this way. Not
now." Giles reached out for her,
grabbing her arm and spinning her. Her
hand came up by reflex, and he was sure he was in for it.
But she pulled the blow at
the last minute. "We're not at
odds, Giles. We're obviously both
marching to the same goal. We're
just...not together anymore." She
looked like she might cry, then she blinked back what she no doubt felt was too
much weakness to show. "I think you
should go."
"Would you like me to
send Spike up?" He winced at how petty he sounded.
"Spike was there for me
last night, Giles. When you and everyone
else turned your back on me, he was there.
And that matters."
He looked down.
"You didn't even offer
to come with me." Her voice was
soft, hurt. He hadn't heard that voice
since she was just eighteen, and he'd put her through the Cruciamentum.
"My place was here. You could survive on your own. They couldn't."
"Whereas
Spike's place was with me. I think I prefer his values." Her voice cut him, lancing through the guilt
he already felt to make a new hole.
"Then you should be with
Spike. If he's such a
blasted hero." He turned,
knowing his response was visceral. He'd
never been like this over Angel. But
Angel had a soul and--
Bloody Spike with his bloody
soul. The man was still a menace, ensouled or not.
"I'm going to stay with
Faith for a while. You go
away." There was no emotion in
Buffy's voice as she turned from him and sat down on the bed.
"I'll try to find more
on the scythe." It was the best he
could offer her. And probably the only
help she'd be willing to take.
--------------------
Giles saw Spike slink back
into the house. "Rough night doing
whatever you do?"
The vampire looked up at him,
his expression filled with rage for a moment, and Giles had a vision of what
the man could do with no chip to contain him.
But then the rage crumpled, and he only looked heartbroken.
"Buffy? Is she...?"
"Slayer's fine. Slayer's more than fine. She's with...him."
"Him?" Was she with
Robin? Or dear lord, Spike didn't mean Caleb, did he?
"With Angel,
you enormous wanker. The great ponce has returned and with trinkets for her and she's
kissing him and I hope you're happy."
The words were said in such a
rush that Giles practically had to reconstruct them to make sense of it. "Angel's here?" To help them? Their odds went up considerably, if that were
the case.
Spike looked over at the
table, then strode to it, grabbed a piece of paper and began to draw on it with
angry strokes of a black marker. Giles
moved closer, saw that it was either a picture of Angel or one of those cartoon
characters Xander and Andrew liked so much.
Then Spike drew in fangs, and Giles decided it had to be Angel.
"Where's the sodding tape?"
Giles retrieved it from the
drawer and handed it to Spike, who yanked it from him and stomped down the
stairs. A moment later, Giles could hear
the sound of the punching bag being hit rather forcefully. He laughed despite himself, imagining the pounding
Spike would be giving the Angel effigy.
Thank God, Spike had not a lick of magical talent. That much rage and hurt would normally fuel a
sympathetic magic spell quite nicely.
A moment later the front door
slammed open and Dawn burst in, yelling "Buffy!" at the top of her
lungs.
"Indoor voice,
Dawn," Giles murmured.
"Don't even. You were in on this, weren't you?" Dawn strode over and kicked him in the shin.
Giles felt his eyes water but
managed not to react otherwise.
"Dawn, you must have missed the part where Buffy is very, very
angry at me and not telling me anything."
"Oh. Right." She looked down at his abused shin. "Sorry."
Xander inched into the house,
staring at Dawn cautiously. "Note
to self. Even non-slayery
Summers girls are very mean when riled."
Buffy came back a little
while later and got the shin treatment from Dawn. Giles was gratified to see that it hurt her,
too. Xander was not wrong that Dawn could
pack quite a wallop into her pointy boots.
But not as big a wallop as
his slayer, who'd apparently dispatched Caleb all by herself. He hid the satisfied smile; she wouldn't
appreciate him acting like a proud watcher.
Buffy handed him a packet of
paper.
"Where'd you get all
this?" he asked, knowing the answer probably had to do with the face on the
punching bag.
"Angel."
Dawn smiled. "Angel?"
Giles could only imagine what
the dynamics would be once Spike had to work with Angel around. "He's here."
"I sent him back to L.A.
To prepare." She met his eyes, then
turned to the kitchen--he knew where she was headed. The basement. To Spike.
Had she chosen Spike over
Angel?
The world really was coming
to an end.
--------------------------
Giles stared at Buffy as she
outlined her plan for fighting The First.
Her audacious, insane, wonderfully rebellious plan.
He could imagine the Council
members spinning in their graves. If
blown-up bodies could spin, which he imagined they could given
the right impetus. And this would surely
be it.
Every girl who could be a slayer, would be. Every. Single. Girl.
Buffy was amazing. There were times she aggravated him, hurt
him, disappointed him. But those times were nothing
compared to these. The
times she took his breath away.
"Well? What do you think?" Buffy looked at each of them.
Xander finally spoke. "That depends...are you kidding?"
"You don't think it's a
good idea?"
Faith,
looking as if she was back to full
strength thanks to a long session with the scythe, said, "It's pretty
radical, B."
Giles took a deep
breath. "It's a lot more than
that. Buffy, what you're talking about
flies in the face of everything we've ever--that every generation has ever done
in the fight against evil." He smiled
broadly. "I think it's bloody brilliant."
There was something wonderful
in her eyes. Like she'd been expecting
him to kick her and instead he'd given her a ride on his shoulders. "You mean that?"
"If
you want my opinion." He made his expression as gentle as he could,
wanted no more bitter recriminations between them. Not now.
Not on the eve of something this chancy--this potentially world
changing.
"I really do."
Something broke inside him,
and he wondered if maybe it did inside her, too. He wanted to reach out, to touch her cheek
the way he had when she'd been hurting and he'd been a father figure she
wanted.
But there wasn't time for
that. There was work to be done.
Slayers to
be made.
Evil to be
destroyed.
If they were all very lucky,
he and Buffy would have a chance to figure out what the future would bring
after the fight was over.
-----------------------
Everything was chaos,
pandemonium. Giles fought by Wood's side,
trying to keep the wounded principal's bad side protected, keep him on his feet. It was a losing battle.
And then it happened. A blast of sunlight so strong Giles could
feel it as it flew by. He grabbed Robin,
pulled him out of the way, but thought the man still might have gotten a little
singed on his arm.
Vampires went up in
flames. Even the bringers hit by the
beam fell.
"Duck," Giles said,
pulling Robin down and half dragging him back to the entrance. He realized some of the girls were coming
after them.
Robin saw them, too. "The bus. Get them to the bus."
Robin climbed aboard, wound
apparently forgotten, probably in a surge of adrenalin, and Giles hustled the
slayers onto the bus. He heard the thing
start up, thank God. It was their only
way out and judging by the sounds coming from beneath him, they were going to
need it.
Something really was going to
devour them.
But where was Buffy?
He heard Robin calling, took
one last look at the school, one last look for his slayer, then climbed aboard
and grabbed for something to hold onto as Robin gunned the engine.
"Should he be
driving?" Faith asked Giles, looking at Robin with concern. "He's hurt wicked bad."
"Do you want to tell him
to give up the wheel?" He heard an
ominous sound behind them, didn't turn around to see what was happening to the
town he'd called home for far longer than he'd ever intended. "Do you think we even have time for that?"
"Your
call, Giles." She fell into the nearest seat and watched
Robin as if she could keep him conscious by will alone.
"Did you see what
happened to Buffy?"
Faith seemed to force her
gaze away from Robin. "She stayed
with Spike." Then she got up,
ripping part of her shirt to make a pad to hold against Robin's bleeding side, grabbing
on to the pole to stay upright.
Buffy stayed with Spike. To die with Spike? She'd chosen that route before. Death for another. Death with another, this
time.
Rona groaned and Giles went
to help Vi with her.
His slayer was gone, but all of these new ones still needed someone.
He'd deal with his broken
heart later. It wasn't like he hadn't
lost her before. The third time
shouldn't matter.
Shouldn't. What a stupid
word.
He took a deep breath and
made himself useful. He could see
something frightening behind them. The road, the buildings, everything disappearing. Sunnydale was indeed being devoured from
beneath.
There was a crash on top of
the bus, and he looked up, wondering if it was a bringer, waiting for a sword
or axe to come through the roof. Then he
saw Dawn grinning like a mad fool, and he began to laugh, a rather desperate
laugh that was accompanied by tears that he blinked away quickly.
She was safe. He wouldn't have to mourn her.
Although
they might all still die. But at least they'd die together. He wouldn't be stuck living without her
again.
But then the ravaging
stopped, the road behind them stayed road.
And Faith told Robin to ease up.
Giles saw Buffy leap off the back of the bus, hurried out but not before
Dawn jumped out the back. As the two
sisters hugged, he took in the great crater that had once been Sunnydale.
He looked at Buffy. "I don't understand. What did
this?"
"Spike." She met his
eyes, her eyes hard again and proud. Proud of her champion. Proud of the man Giles had tried to
kill.
Giles looked back over the
crater, trying to imagine what power Spike had conjured to do this.
He participated halfheartedly
in the relieved bantering that the others engaged in as they stood and stared
at their former home. Then Faith said
softly, "Okay, so enough. Let's get
out of here and find somewhere to get cleaned up."
Buffy hung back with Giles as
the others climbed into the bus; she closed the emergency exit in the back,
waited for Dawn to lock it before she turned to him.
"He was a
champion."
He nodded back toward the
crater. "So I see."
"Don't be glib."
"I wasn't--" But he
was. "Yes, Buffy. At the end, he was a true champion."
"And...?"
He smiled softly. "And I was utterly wrong to question
your decision and to try to kill him."
"Good boy." She took a step away from him.
"Buffy." He stopped her, his hand on her arm just as
before. Only this time she didn't react,
just stopped, not looking at him.
"If you want me to go, then drop me off at the next town."
"I didn't say I wanted
you to go."
"You also didn't say you
wanted me to stay."
She turned to look at
him. "Do I have to say something
that obvious?"
"Things haven't been
good. And as you indicated, I am in the negative points
category as far as you're concerned."
She laughed. "Brand new day, Giles. Or hadn't you noticed?"
He looked down. "I can
be of great use to you. Even if I'm not your watcher any longer."
"Yes, you
can." She took his hand for a
moment, then dropped it. "And I'll start trusting you again--if
you stop betraying me."
She staggered suddenly, and
he realized she was bleeding. "Good
Lord, Buffy. You're hurt."
"Not so much." Then she crumpled.
He picked her up, cradling
her in his arms the way he had so many other times. He'd carried her more often than he wanted to
remember. His beloved girl, hurt again
saving those she loved--and those she didn't even know--from evil.
"This is not going to
improve morale, Giles. Put me
down."
"You're bleeding quite
badly." For a moment, he pulled her
closer, cradling her.
For a moment, she let
him. Then she said, "A little
quality time with the scythe should heal me up right. Or Willow can when she gets her energy
back." Buffy smiled sadly. "So no veiny Willow.
Yay
her."
"Yes. She was ready for this. Even if she didn't think
so."
"Giles,
put me down."
He eased her down, making
sure she was steady before he let go completely, trying to ignore the fact that
he didn't want to let go of her. That it
had felt different this time to hold her.
It had felt...good.
"Okay, here we
go." She leaned up against him a
little as they walked. "Does anyone
have a cell phone? I want to call Angel
and let him know I won't need a second front."
"We'll stop and get a
disposable if no one has one." He
couldn't imagine a cell phone surviving their fight, but they'd survived it,
maybe technology had come through, too.
Buffy suddenly stopped. "Don't leave me again."
"As long as you need me,
I'll be here."
"You've said that
before. Just...mean it this
time." She didn't turn to look at
him, just strode off, again the confident--and to the girls' eyes probably
uninjured--general.
He followed her at a less
aggressive pace.
----------------------
Giles stood in the doorway,
watching as Buffy sat on the parapet of the fortress the coven had found them
in Scotland. She was gazing out over the
countryside, running her fingers over the moss-covered stone.
"I know you're there,
Giles. Hovering is creepy."
He took a deep breath. "Dana is dead."
"What other reason would
you come up here?" Buffy turned to
look at him. "And
Dawn? Is she going to be
okay?"
Giles nodded. Dawn had been exceptionally lucky. She might not be a slayer, but she had
reflexes that weren't quite human. Dana
had meant to kill her. Dawn's
instinctive jerk had meant the knife Dana had stolen from the kitchen went into
her arm, not her gut. Still bad, but not
life threatening.
"I thought Dana was
better, Giles. I thought we were
reaching her."
"I did, too." No danger that they hadn't been united on
this one. He'd thought Dana was
improving--until she'd attacked Dawn.
Buffy had really had no choice but to stop her, and Dana had made it
impossible to do that with anything other than lethal force.
Although
Buffy had tried to hold back. It was why Dana had taken a while to die, not
expired instantly.
"I had some talks with
her. Real words with
real meaning. Not the ranting she
came in doing. She told me
things." Buffy shot Giles a hard
look. "About a
blonde vampire. British guy. Does
that by any stretch of the imagination sound familiar, Giles?"
"I told you Spike was
working with Angel."
"Oh, you so did
not." She got up, began to
pace. "What were you afraid I'd
do?"
"Push me off the side of
our castle?" He backed away, toward
the wall.
"Get real. I only do that to slayers who are too insane
to look up to me." She sighed
heavily. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It hurt you so much to
hear that Angel was working for Wolfram and Hart--running the L.A. office, in
fact. I didn't want to sully your memory
of Spike with the same pain."
Which
sounded great, and was even partially true. He also hadn't
wanted her running off to see if it was true, if Spike was alive.
She looked up at him. "I don't believe you."
"Buffy, I..."
She frowned. "Things have been different
lately."
"Well, yes. Our situation has changed drastically. We truly are creating an army of slayers
here. And it's requiring a new
approach."
"I meant between
us."
"Oh." He knew she wasn't wrong. He'd been a great fool since that ride away
from Sunnydale. He'd spent the last few
months trying to convince himself that he hadn't been
mesmerized by how she felt in his arms.
That he wasn't suddenly finding himself dreaming of her--not that he
hadn't dreamed about her falling in battle a hundred times over the years. But he'd never had a dream about her--
Except...that
dream, after their battle with Adam, when the First Slayer had tried to kill
them in their sleep. That strange, disjointed
dream.
It had started with
Buffy. Just the two of
them. Giles
hypnotizing her, with a watch this time, not a crystal. Not the Cruciamentum. She'd asked him if it wasn't a little old
fashioned, and he'd said it was the way women and men had been behaving since
the beginning.
Women and men.
Not girls and men.
The dream had shifted
then. Buffy had been acting like a child. Olivia had been there, as his wife with an
empty baby carriage. Had his mind done
that to protect him? From the knowledge
that even back then, some part of him may have wanted Buffy?
"Giles?"
"I didn't want Spike
here." He flinched, not intending
such truth to come out of his mouth.
"Because
you hate him?"
"Because
you don't." He sighed, resigning himself to the idea that
truth was going to spill out no matter what he wanted.
"You're not my watcher
anymore."
"No, I'm not." He forced himself to move away from the wall,
closer to her, but not too close. Not
inappropriately close. "I know that
in the past I've been like a father to you."
She hugged her arms around
herself, turned back to the view.
"I can't talk about this right now."
"Would you like me to go
away? There are still plenty of slayers
to go collect."
"Leaving me again?" Her voice was mocking.
"I was only asking what
you wanted."
"What if I want
Spike?"
"You don't. Or you'd be on a plane to Los Angeles right
now."
She laughed softly. "You're right about that." She sighed.
"I don't know what I want."
He wasn't sure if that
indecision included him and a status change or not. He wasn't sure he should even be considering
such things.
Only she wasn't a child
anymore. And she'd ceased to be any kind
of daughter that night he and Robin had betrayed her.
It wasn't right, but it
wasn't wrong, either.
He walked away from her,
waiting for her to call him back--hoping she would--but she didn't. He took the stairs slowly, trying not to
obsess over how things were--and how they weren't.
"G-man." Xander looked
up from command central, where he'd happily installed himself as head civilian.
"Xander." He sat down
heavily in one of the spare chairs set out of the way.
"Ooh, big thoughts. What's up?"
"She knows Spike is
alive."
"Does that mean we can
expect the blond bimbo to be joining us anytime soon? 'Cause color me ungrateful, but I'm so not
for that concept."
"Nor
am I."
"Yeah,
no big surprise there." Xander had his slightly mocking grin on.
"I am concerned about
her well being."
"Yeah, you just keep
telling yourself that, Humbert." Xander winked at him.
"If you are implying
that--"
Leaning in, Xander said
softly. "Implying
nothing, Rupert. You're jonesing for her.
And as a former joneser, I can understand
that. Although I'm still sorting out the
ewww factor from when you were kind of like her
dad. But I'm working my way through it,
and coming out on the side of 'okay, I guess that's not so surprising.' I mean...she's Buffy, right?"
Giles sighed. "You always see everything,
Xander."
"Yep. That's my
curse." He patted Giles on the
shoulder and went back to work.
-------------------
Giles stood on the balcony of
the Roman nightclub with Buffy. She had
on a brunette wig and looked lovely with dark hair. He had on Italian clothes and dark glasses
and knew he looked surprisingly unwatcherlike.
Down below them, the slayer
who was masquerading as Buffy was dancing.
"They think she's
me."
"For all intents and
purposes, she is you." He'd neglected
to tell Buffy of the whole Immortal angle.
Thought it would drive her nuts to hear she was involved with another
dark, ageless, and potentially evil guy.
Or maybe it just drove him
nuts?
"Who's the guy she's
dancing with? He's kind of cute."
"Random Roman hottie, as you might say." He grinned at her.
"Speaking
of which. Andrew did good with
those threads. It's a cinch you'd never
pick them out for yourself." She
looked over at the front door, Giles's nice new clothes apparently forgotten. "Well.
There's something you don't see every day."
Giles followed her gaze. Angel and Spike were standing in the entry,
scanning the dance floor. They both
zeroed in on Buffy's double. He knew
they were fully aware who she was dancing with.
"They look pissed. Why do they look so pissed?" Buffy moved closer to the railing for a
better look. "What? I can't dance? I'm supposed to pine over him...and
him...forever?"
"Quite."
"Oh, shut up. You just want me to move on and pick
you."
He glanced at her, surprised
at the casual way she'd said it.
She wasn't looking at him,
was looking down at her two undead lovers.
"They look really good.
Don't they look good?"
"What? Oh, yes, I suppose." What had happened to him looking good in his
new clothes? "Actually, now that
I'm seeing them in this light..."
She glanced at him. "What?"
"No, it's
silly." And
petty. But if she followed up, he
was going to do it.
She followed up. "What?"
"They look nice
together."
"Together." She shot him a not very happy look. "Together as in
together-together?"
"Yes. It would explain some things..." He wasn't sure what it would explain, but by
her frown he thought maybe there were things that needed explaining. It made him feel childishly happy but also a
bit guilty at being such a berk about this.
He stared down as her double
and the Immortal walked out, then Spike and Angel ran out a bit later.
Buffy watched them go, then shifted her gaze to where her double had walked
out. Her mouth was set in a hard line. "I'm asking a lot of her."
Giles thought about the young
woman they'd chosen to play her, to wear the mask and be Buffy so that the
demons didn't wise up to the real location of the Slayer--or that she'd managed
to do the impossible and activate all the potentials.
There was another double
living underground. He'd thought, and
Buffy had agreed, that they couldn't be too careful. Not even when they had an army of slayers at
their backs. Or maybe
because they had an army of slayers.
Baby slayers as Andrew called them--only not to their faces. Young women in need of protection until they
figured out all that they were.
The way Buffy had done.
"You don't really think
that Angel and Spike are..."
"No. I don't really." He tried to walk away from her, from all the
other stupid things he might say if he stayed.
She stopped him. "What is it you want?"
"Nothing." Her finger
tightened on his arm, and he sighed. "Everything?
Buffy, I don't know. Something in between.
This.
What we have now. It's
fine."
She let go of him. "Good."
He turned to face her. Saw something in her eyes he couldn't
read. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"We discussed making a
second base of operations. In case the
Scotland one is compromised."
He felt a pang. "Yes, we did. Would you like me to take some of the more
advanced girls and go do that?"
She nodded.
He'd be gone for some time, far
from her. "I'll get right to
it." He turned, wanting to run, but
that would be undignified. Would give
her too much, and not enough.
She pulled him to her,
wrapped her arms around his neck, and stared at him.
"Buffy, what--" He shut up
because she was kissing him.
For a moment, he was too
stunned to do anything. Then he pulled
her closer, felt her strong, slight body pressed against his. Her lips were doing something to him he could
barely comprehend. He felt like
melting. He felt a hundred feet tall.
They kissed for a very long
time. Then she pulled away.
"I gave Angel this
speech about cookie dough. I'm going to
spare you it. The gist, however, was
that I'm still figuring out who I am.
And I can't do that with him around--or with you around."
"I won't--"
Her fingers on his lips
stopped him. "I care about
you. In so many different
ways. And it's confusing. And it's nice. And it's not nice. And that was a great kiss, by the way."
He beamed, trying hard not to
look pleased with himself but no doubt failing.
"And I need you to go
away for a while. And let me finish
baking." She grimaced. "I probably need a new analogy."
"I'm quite fond of
cookies." Truth be told, he'd
become quite fond of cookie dough as well.
But probably best not to tell her that.
He decided to risk
something. "One
more, then. For
the road?" He waited for her
to nod, pulled her back to him.
Kissing her was like coming
home.
He pulled away first this
time. "All right then. Off to create a back-up command
central. I think I might take
Andrew."
She nodded,
a sweet smile on her face. "I'll
miss you."
"I'll miss you,
too." He held out his arm. "Well, time to go home?" So she could get on with her life--without
him.
"This isn't
goodbye," she murmured as they walked out into the Roman night. "We still work together. I expect to hear from you regularly."
"Of
course. I understand what this is." And what it wasn't. Would kissing her a third time be pushing his
luck?
She took his hand, squeezed
gently, then when their hotel was in sight, pulled away. "I need some time on my own."
"I know." He leaned in, kissed her on the cheek. For a moment, he thought she was going to
turn her face so her lips would meet his.
But she didn't.
"I love you, Giles. Call me tomorrow morning at seven. I don't trust the front desk wake up
call."
"I will."
He watched her walk off,
watched until she turned a corner and disappeared.
Then he went inside and began
to work out plans for the new compound.
If it was what she wanted, it was what he would do.
END
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