Stolen
(#1 in the Stolen Series)
by GylzGirl
Disclaimer: Joss and the Fox Conglomerate own Buffy and co. I own only the story.
Rating: PG-13 (A little language)
Type: Angst, You're soaking in it! (Aww, I need a hug.)
Pairing: B/G
Author's notes: Yes, it's fic #1 in yet another new series. Why? Because I am clinically insane! That's why! Solo, we'll go ahead and call it the Stolen series. Thanks to Meawan and Kazza for beta help and suggestions.
Series Written: Fall 1999 - Continuing
******
Rupert Giles took his finger and idly traced his reflection in the window. He was almost to the point of numbness; the point where your system has experienced all the pain it can take and simply refuses to feel anything greater. The weariness had settled around his eyes, darkening the skin there. He looked haggard and old and felt every bit of it.
He rubbed his hand over his chin and sighed. He'd been so smug, thought he was so tough even after everything. And yet, it had only taken three days for his entire life to fall apart. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall again. Giles tried not to think about how he was ever going to get through another day without seeing his Slayer's beautiful smile.
He kept thinking about how he should have slid a sword into the chest of that pompous old bastard Quentin Travers as soon as he saw him standing in his living room. 'Then perhaps this wouldn't have happened. Or perhaps it would have, but I least I would have had the satisfaction of killing him.'
******
"How the Hell did you get in here?"
Travers arched an eyebrow in amusement as he made himself at home on Giles' sofa. "Really Rupert, must I dignify that with a response?"
"No I don't suppose you do." He opened the door he had only just closed and looked at the other man expectantly.
"Are you trying to air the place out?"
"Perhaps I should, the atmosphere in here has rather taken on the pong of decay. However the more immediate point I was trying to make was that you should get off your ass and leave while I still remember to be civil enough to let you do it of your own accord."
"Rupert, I've come to discuss a matter vital to the survival of your Miss Summers. Do sit down and stop being tiresome."
Giles gritted his teeth, mustering all his willpower to lower his blood pressure and suppress the urge to tear his unwelcome visitor apart. It was almost more than he could take that the man who had forced his betrayal of Buffy, endangered her life and then relieved him of his birthright was playing at granting him hospitality in his own home. Almost. His statement that Buffy was in danger calmed him into compliantly sitting next to a person he would almost gratefully see dead.
"Well Rupert my boy, how have you been?"
"Can we please dispense with this pretense of friendship. You said Buffy was in danger? From what?"
At his words, Travers smirked unabashedly. "From you."
The glare Giles shot him would have crumbled anyone that still felt. "What do you mean?"
"When I left here last year, I permitted you to remain..."
"Permitted," Giles spat.
"Permitted you to remain under the explicit instruction that you were not to interfere with your replacement's authority over the Slayer."
"When are you going to understand? We have no authority over her, nor should we. The council was founded to *serve* the Slayer, not the other way around. The Slayer serves the world. We are there simply to assist her with that burden."
"Times change Rupert."
"But the tenants the council was founded on still hold true. Otherwise, what's the purpose in having it?"
Travers stood and shook his head. "This is all beside the point." This time, it was Giles who wore the smirk. "The point is, you've violated the conditions allowing you to stay here. You kept Buffy from accepting and adjusting to her new Watcher. And your actions single-handedly led to her rejecting the Council."
"The Council's refusal to help her led to her rejection. I had nothing to do with that. Did Wesley tell you differently?"
"Mr. Wyndham-Price came back touting your praises and insisting that the only way we would ever get Buffy back is if you were, and I quote, "rightfully reinstated to your position as her Watcher". He was telling both trainees and council members alike of your quick assessment abilities, your research prowess and your deftness with a sword. His hero-worship of you has him rambling like a zealot."
"I'm impressed with him."
"You can keep your impressions to yourself. Mr. Wyndham-Price is no longer a member of the Council. Last I heard he had plans to move to Los Angeles. Good riddance."
"Upset that your hand-selected Watcher agreed with me and not you? Or upset that your own nephew let everybody know what an outdated old fart you really are?"
"You will not be allowed to stand between Miss Summers and her new Watcher. Nor will you be allowed to corrupt anyone else. You will have to leave. Now."
Giles crossed his arms over his chest, everything about him daring Travers to attempt to move him. "I'm not going anywhere."
"If you don't leave, Miss Summers cannot be assigned another Watcher. We know now that as long as you are here she will defer to you. Without you, her fear will force her to comply."
"She left the Council because they treated her with utter contempt. No matter what I do, she will not accept a new Watcher."
"Then, she will die."
Giles was on his feet in seconds, advancing dangerously on the older man. "If you ever touch her, they will never find enough of your body to identify as human remains."
Travers smiled slightly, hearing the tinge of fear in his voice. "You know better than to think you can stop us. If we can't control this Slayer, we will facilitate the coming of one we can."
"Buffy and I together are more than a match for you. And the Council. Now get out."
"Rupert, leave now or watch Buffy die. I'll be seeing you again soon."
There was nothing but hate in his eyes as he watched Travers exit his apartment. His fists were clenching and unclenching, his breath coming in hisses. As he passed his desk, he screamed in rage, shoving a teetering stack of books to the floor.
'Everything will be all right. I will look after Buffy and she will look after me. We defeated the Master. We defeated the Hellmouth. We defeated Angelus. We defeated the Mayor. The Council is nothing but a bunch of old men who've spent too long behind very safe desks in very safe buildings. Together, Buffy and I can beat anything.'
He climbed the stairs to his loft, repeating the words over and over in his head until he was convinced he was right. Even still, he dreaded the time would come soon when Travers would try to make good on his threat.
Giles certainly didn't expect that time to be the very next night.
******
"I'm surprised you wanted to come patrol with me Giles," Buffy smiled up at him as the last sliver of sunlight sank under the horizon. They walked side by side down Sunnydale's main street, headed toward the first of the cemeteries on the route.
"Would you rather I hadn't? I mean I did somewhat...insist."
"I never said I didn't want you here. Actually, I think it's kinda...nice. You haven't wanted to come for a while. I've missed it."
"It's not that I haven't wanted to I just... well I didn't want to crowd your space."
She grinned. "Crowd my space?" She stopped and turned him to face her, bringing the back of her hand to feel his forehead. "Have you been eating any illicit chocolate lately?"
He smiled. "Of course not." They began to walk again. "Don't freak out." She halted immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. He could not contain his laughter. "Joke, sorry."
Buffy playfully swiped at his arm. "So not funny. I only meant that you used to and now you don't. And so now that you are it's... I swear Giles, only you could make me nostalgic weepy over patrol of all things."
"Well perhaps we could make it more of a constant again? If you'd like that is."
"I think I'd very li... Oh hey! Vampire at 12 O'clock!" She began to run ahead, Giles taking off after her, not wanting to let her out of his sight.
The vampire led them in quick pursuit until the gates of Eternal Rest Cemetery where Buffy overtook him. Giles caught up as she engaged the creature in hand-to-hand. She pulled the stake out of her jacket pocket and drew it back. The vampire punched her square in the face and knocked the stake from her grip. Giles instantly dropped the weapons bag he carried and began to rummage for another. Buffy kneed the vampire repeatedly in the stomach. His hand reached out for her throat.
He used his grasp to reel her closer to him, baring his fangs and edging them nearer to her. From his crouched position, Giles could swear he felt something fly by him overhead, the breeze from its passing ruffling his hair slightly. His hand found a stake as he looked up and saw Buffy wince in pain and headbut her opponent. The vampire slashed at the Slayer with his fingernails. Giles saw thin red lines of blood appear on her neck and chest, the top of her tee shirt shredding in the process.
"Buffy!" She turned toward Giles who hurled the stake through the air into her waiting hand. She plunged it into the vampire's chest, obliterating him.
Giles got to his feet and ran to her, gently grasping her upper arms. "Are you all right?"
She nodded her head gently. "Yeah. Poor vamp's version of Freddy Krueger."
He lifted her chin with his finger and observed the damage. "Well, he broke the skin."
"I'm bleeding?"
"Fraid so. What do you say we stop by my place before we continue the patrol? At least get this cleaned up?"
"Works for me. Not like I'm going to be able to sneak up on anything while I'm bleeding. They'll smell me coming."
Giles nodded his agreement, stooping to retrieve his bag before taking light hold of Buffy's arm and walking her towards his house.
In the bushes, across the street from the graveyard, a dark figure watched the retreating man and woman as he disassembled his weapon.
******
Buffy sat on the counter in Giles' bathroom as he ran a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic over the red ridges the vampire's nails had left in its wake. As he moved up her neck, he encountered a slightly larger tear in her flesh. When he touched the cotton to it, she hissed. "Sorry. He got you fairly badly there."
"Yeah, I was noticing that what with the bleeding and the pain and all." She smiled at the exasperated look he gave her. "I'm fine Giles. I got scratched up. Not a big. Don't be so worried."
"Perhaps I have to worry about you because you don't worry enough about yourself. Perhaps I like to worry about you."
"Maybe you need a hobby." She smiled again. "Could you see if you could worry me up a tee-shirt? This one is sorta...demolished."
"I'm sure I've got one you could have." He exited the room and was gone a few minutes before returning with a gray tee shirt. He left again, shutting the door to give her the privacy to change and took the opportunity to add some extra stakes to the bag.
"Ta-da!" Buffy emerged from the bathroom, Giles' tee shirt hanging down to almost her knees. "How do I look?"
He smiled. "Like you could wear the bloody thing for a dress."
"Don't make fun. I've worn shorter."
"To school even."
"Giles! I didn't think you noticed that kind of thing."
He put his hands on his hips. "Buffy when I became a Watcher, I didn't stop being a man you know. You're a very beautiful young woman. You always have been." She blushed sweetly. He cleared his throat. "I am...was your Watcher Buffy. Did you really think I could watch you and not *see* you?"
"I...I don't know what to say."
"Thank you comes to mind." He grinned.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Now get your jacket. We have a patrol to finish."
******
They reached the playground at Weatherly Park a little after one in the morning. Buffy noticed a hunched over male figure sitting on the merry-go-round, spinning it with his feet. When he passed before them, they could make out the angles and ridges of its vampire self. Its face was covered in blood. They looked into its hands and saw that it had its fangs buried in a large jackrabbit that'd had the unfortunate luck to amble by.
While Giles sat their bag down, searching through it for back-up weapons, Buffy took out a stake and ran to the merry-go-round, stopping it with her boot. "Okay, now that's just gross! On your feet Fang Boy, Bugs wants justice."
The vampire threw the carcass to the side and stood. Buffy barely held back her laughter. He wasn't even quite eye level with her. "Jesus, I thought Jonathan was short. Let's get this over with Tattoo."
It lunged at her and she put up her hands to block him. She gasped in surprise as he took her to the ground and effectively pinned her. He was too strong! Her legs were pinned beneath his. He grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands and held her arms over her head. She was nearly overcome with panic as his other hand took a vice hold on her jaw and turned her head to the side. "GILES!!!!"
Giles grabbed a crossbow bolt and scrambled to her side. Buffy could feel the vampire lick her neck and let out an anguished, helpless scream. Giles plunged the arrow into the vampire's back. It disintegrated above her and Buffy quickly rolled to the side.
Giles helped her to her feet. She was trembling. He reached out to touch her hair. "Buffy?" She threw her arms around him and cried. He held her, stroking her hair. "It's all right now. He didn't look that strong."
She pulled away. "He wasn't that strong! I was weak!"
"What?"
"God Giles, I felt like I did on my 18th birthday." That was a subject they never discussed anymore. He knew for her to bring it up, it could be no exaggeration.
"Hit me." She looked up, uncomprehendingly. He nodded, smiling gently. "Hit me, hard as you can. Right here," his hand patted the right side of his chest.
"But Giles..."
"Go on Buffy, it's important."
She took a deep breath. "Sorry about this." She backed up a couple of steps, charging forward and punching him where he'd asked her. "OW!" Her mouth fell open in pain and she clutched her fist against her stomach. Giles hadn't moved. He'd barely blinked. "Giles," she whispered, "I have no strength."
He nodded, his hands coming to her arms in comfort. "We've got to get you inside. You're a target like this. We'll get to the bottom of it." She leaned forward against his chest, hugging him for comfort. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Buffy, do you need to ask me something?"
Her tearful eyes glittered up at him in the moonlight. At first she didn't understand his question, then it became clear. He was asking her if she needed to know that it wasn't him that had done this to her. She smiled up at him and shook her head. "There's nothing you need to tell me is there?"
"No."
"Then there's nothing I need to ask."
He nodded and smiled. "Let me get you home."
******
Giles spent a sleepless night pouring over every volume he thought might have any information on Buffy's condition. Prophecies, astrological charts, Slayer lore, the few Watcher journals he had managed to keep copies of, nothing provided any answers. His lack of any other solution had only intensified his worst suspicion. As the first rays of daylight filtered through his window, that suspicion was confirmed by the dropping of a tiny metal dart into the crease of the open book before him.
He jumped up, startled by the previously undetected presence behind him. He whirled around, his eyes narrowing as they found Quentin Travers smug face smiling at him in his living room once more. Giles controlled himself just long enough to ask one thing. "The compound?"
Travers nodded. "It was a very small amou..." He soon found his airway constricted as Giles quickly closed the distance between them and seized him by the throat.
"I told you if you touched her, I would kill you."
Even as his skin began to take on a bluish tint, he grinned. "You won't kill me Rupert. I'm the only one who can keep her alive now," his voice was barely audible but his meaning hit Giles like a sledgehammer in the chest. He released the older man's neck, not bothering to be gentle. He began to pace.
Travers moved away, rubbing his neck and taking a seat on the sofa. "As I was saying. It was a very small amount of the compound from The Test. A fraction of what you gave her then. She'll probably be feeling almost up to full strength by the time she wakes up."
"How did you do it?"
"The dart. One just like it was fired from across the street as she fought with that vampire outside the cemetery gates last night. I told you that you couldn't protect her from us. Do you see that now? We got to her when she was less than five feet away from you and you couldn't do anything to stop it. You didn't even know what had happened. If we'd wanted to kill her, she'd be cold by now."
The rage was radiating off of Giles in waves that seemed to heat the air between them. "What do you want?"
"I told you. You have been ordered to leave." He stood as he reached into his coat pocket. He produced a red and blue envelope.
"What's this?"
"It's your ticket. First class, one-way to London. It leaves from LAX at 6 this evening so you'll need to be out of Sunnydale by 3 in order to make your flight."
Giles backed away. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave her." His voice seemed weaker even to his own ears as fear spread through his body like a runaway virus.
Travers studied him for a moment, realization dawning as he did so. "I was wrong wasn't I? You don't just love her. You're *in * love with her. Aren't you?"
A flash of guilt crossed Giles' features. "And what if I was? It never interfered with my job. We're a team. Why can't you understand that? The Watcher's job is to keep his Slayer alive!"
"A Watcher's job is to learn from the journals of those who came before him to better train the Slayer to keep *herself * alive and to observe and record his Slayer for the benefit of the Watchers to follow him."
"I won't abandon her. I won't leave."
"You will be on that flight or Buffy will be dead by dawn tomorrow. As you've seen, we can get to her at any time, even right in front of your eyes. I realize that we aren't giving you enough time to see to your belongings. The Council will see to any arrangements you make regarding them but you will leave today. You will sever all contact with her. You will not call, write or visit her." Travers set the ticket on the desk.
Giles stared at the ticket as though it were a warrant for his own death. "One more thing Rupert. You will not say good-bye to her."
The younger man's haunted gaze lifted to look into Travers' cold eyes. "If she knows that it was the Council that * asked* you to leave, it may make her reluctant to reconcile with us. That would be very unfortunate for your Miss Summers' health."
The phone on the desk rang. Rupert reached over the glaring ticket to retrieve the handset. "Hello? Buffy?" Giles sank into the chair as all the breath went out of his lungs.
"Hey Giles. I think you were right last night. I panicked over nothing. It must have been a touch of the flu or something. I feel great today."
"Oh good. I'm...I'm very glad to hear that. It's important to me that you stay...healthy." Giles bit his lip to keep his emotions at bay. He wasn't about to cry in front of Quentin Travers, no matter how much his body disagreed.
"Giles, are you okay? You sound like you're in pain." He inhaled sharply. "You didn't catch this flu bug too, did you?"
"I'm afraid I might have just caught some ill effects of whatever got to you last night." He fixed Travers with a defiant glare. "I think perhaps I may stay in and rest today."
"That's probably best. Sleep seems to have helped me. I gotta get to class, but I'll come by afterwards. Maybe around 4? I'll bring you some chicken soup." He could hear the smile in her voice.
"That would be nice."
"Cool. I'll let you get back to bed."
Giles forced a small smile as he continued to stare at the older man. "Good-bye Buffy."
"Later Giles."
As he hung up, he heard Travers exhale loudly. "Defiant to the last my boy. Well, I hope that got it out of your system. If you're not on that flight when it takes off, I'll see you at Buffy's funeral." He left without looking at Giles even one more time.
When the door shut, Giles ran a hand back through his hair. Unable to hold back his tears any more, they came hard and fast. Perhaps it was best if he did leave if he could no longer keep his true feelings for Buffy hidden. If an unfeeling bastard like Travers could read his heart so clearly, how long before Buffy would see it too? Then again, she hadn't in four years. And for all his previous bravado, he had to accept that they could have eliminated Buffy within arms reach of him and he couldn't protect her.
How could he even consider leaving her, letting her face the Hellmouth's evils alone? He'd go insane being half a world away, wondering as he started his day if she'd made it through the night.
Giles cast a glance out his window as the morning grew later. He had so few hours to decide how the rest of his life and Buffy's would be.
******
At 4:15, Buffy unlocked the door to Giles' darkened apartment and creeped in, balancing a steaming Styrofoam container of soup as she silently shut the door. She quietly made her way to the lightswitch, not wanting to wake him. As she flipped it on, she gasped at the sight it revealed to her. The furniture had been covered with big plastic tarps to keep the dust off of it and the little trinkets that normally adorned the mantle and shelves were missing. Buffy dropped the soup to the floor and ran upstairs, panicked. "GILES??" She took two or three steps in a bound. When she reached the loft, she saw that he was not sleeping in his bed. It was also shrouded in dustcovers. As the terrible fear grew in her chest, she moved to his armoire, yanking off the plastic and flinging open the doors. It was completely empty.
******
Giles turned away from his reflection in the window as the plane left the ground. The flight attendant walked to his seat. "Can I get you anything to drink sir?"
"Scotch, no ice." As she moved off to retrieve his order, he glanced down on the tiny city below him. "Good-bye Buffy." A tear began to roll down his cheek. "I'm sorry."
The End
(#1 in the Stolen Series)
by GylzGirl
Disclaimer: Joss and the Fox Conglomerate own Buffy and co. I own only the story.
Rating: PG-13 (A little language)
Type: Angst, You're soaking in it! (Aww, I need a hug.)
Pairing: B/G
Author's notes: Yes, it's fic #1 in yet another new series. Why? Because I am clinically insane! That's why! Solo, we'll go ahead and call it the Stolen series. Thanks to Meawan and Kazza for beta help and suggestions.
Series Written: Fall 1999 - Continuing
******
Rupert Giles took his finger and idly traced his reflection in the window. He was almost to the point of numbness; the point where your system has experienced all the pain it can take and simply refuses to feel anything greater. The weariness had settled around his eyes, darkening the skin there. He looked haggard and old and felt every bit of it.
He rubbed his hand over his chin and sighed. He'd been so smug, thought he was so tough even after everything. And yet, it had only taken three days for his entire life to fall apart. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall again. Giles tried not to think about how he was ever going to get through another day without seeing his Slayer's beautiful smile.
He kept thinking about how he should have slid a sword into the chest of that pompous old bastard Quentin Travers as soon as he saw him standing in his living room. 'Then perhaps this wouldn't have happened. Or perhaps it would have, but I least I would have had the satisfaction of killing him.'
******
"How the Hell did you get in here?"
Travers arched an eyebrow in amusement as he made himself at home on Giles' sofa. "Really Rupert, must I dignify that with a response?"
"No I don't suppose you do." He opened the door he had only just closed and looked at the other man expectantly.
"Are you trying to air the place out?"
"Perhaps I should, the atmosphere in here has rather taken on the pong of decay. However the more immediate point I was trying to make was that you should get off your ass and leave while I still remember to be civil enough to let you do it of your own accord."
"Rupert, I've come to discuss a matter vital to the survival of your Miss Summers. Do sit down and stop being tiresome."
Giles gritted his teeth, mustering all his willpower to lower his blood pressure and suppress the urge to tear his unwelcome visitor apart. It was almost more than he could take that the man who had forced his betrayal of Buffy, endangered her life and then relieved him of his birthright was playing at granting him hospitality in his own home. Almost. His statement that Buffy was in danger calmed him into compliantly sitting next to a person he would almost gratefully see dead.
"Well Rupert my boy, how have you been?"
"Can we please dispense with this pretense of friendship. You said Buffy was in danger? From what?"
At his words, Travers smirked unabashedly. "From you."
The glare Giles shot him would have crumbled anyone that still felt. "What do you mean?"
"When I left here last year, I permitted you to remain..."
"Permitted," Giles spat.
"Permitted you to remain under the explicit instruction that you were not to interfere with your replacement's authority over the Slayer."
"When are you going to understand? We have no authority over her, nor should we. The council was founded to *serve* the Slayer, not the other way around. The Slayer serves the world. We are there simply to assist her with that burden."
"Times change Rupert."
"But the tenants the council was founded on still hold true. Otherwise, what's the purpose in having it?"
Travers stood and shook his head. "This is all beside the point." This time, it was Giles who wore the smirk. "The point is, you've violated the conditions allowing you to stay here. You kept Buffy from accepting and adjusting to her new Watcher. And your actions single-handedly led to her rejecting the Council."
"The Council's refusal to help her led to her rejection. I had nothing to do with that. Did Wesley tell you differently?"
"Mr. Wyndham-Price came back touting your praises and insisting that the only way we would ever get Buffy back is if you were, and I quote, "rightfully reinstated to your position as her Watcher". He was telling both trainees and council members alike of your quick assessment abilities, your research prowess and your deftness with a sword. His hero-worship of you has him rambling like a zealot."
"I'm impressed with him."
"You can keep your impressions to yourself. Mr. Wyndham-Price is no longer a member of the Council. Last I heard he had plans to move to Los Angeles. Good riddance."
"Upset that your hand-selected Watcher agreed with me and not you? Or upset that your own nephew let everybody know what an outdated old fart you really are?"
"You will not be allowed to stand between Miss Summers and her new Watcher. Nor will you be allowed to corrupt anyone else. You will have to leave. Now."
Giles crossed his arms over his chest, everything about him daring Travers to attempt to move him. "I'm not going anywhere."
"If you don't leave, Miss Summers cannot be assigned another Watcher. We know now that as long as you are here she will defer to you. Without you, her fear will force her to comply."
"She left the Council because they treated her with utter contempt. No matter what I do, she will not accept a new Watcher."
"Then, she will die."
Giles was on his feet in seconds, advancing dangerously on the older man. "If you ever touch her, they will never find enough of your body to identify as human remains."
Travers smiled slightly, hearing the tinge of fear in his voice. "You know better than to think you can stop us. If we can't control this Slayer, we will facilitate the coming of one we can."
"Buffy and I together are more than a match for you. And the Council. Now get out."
"Rupert, leave now or watch Buffy die. I'll be seeing you again soon."
There was nothing but hate in his eyes as he watched Travers exit his apartment. His fists were clenching and unclenching, his breath coming in hisses. As he passed his desk, he screamed in rage, shoving a teetering stack of books to the floor.
'Everything will be all right. I will look after Buffy and she will look after me. We defeated the Master. We defeated the Hellmouth. We defeated Angelus. We defeated the Mayor. The Council is nothing but a bunch of old men who've spent too long behind very safe desks in very safe buildings. Together, Buffy and I can beat anything.'
He climbed the stairs to his loft, repeating the words over and over in his head until he was convinced he was right. Even still, he dreaded the time would come soon when Travers would try to make good on his threat.
Giles certainly didn't expect that time to be the very next night.
******
"I'm surprised you wanted to come patrol with me Giles," Buffy smiled up at him as the last sliver of sunlight sank under the horizon. They walked side by side down Sunnydale's main street, headed toward the first of the cemeteries on the route.
"Would you rather I hadn't? I mean I did somewhat...insist."
"I never said I didn't want you here. Actually, I think it's kinda...nice. You haven't wanted to come for a while. I've missed it."
"It's not that I haven't wanted to I just... well I didn't want to crowd your space."
She grinned. "Crowd my space?" She stopped and turned him to face her, bringing the back of her hand to feel his forehead. "Have you been eating any illicit chocolate lately?"
He smiled. "Of course not." They began to walk again. "Don't freak out." She halted immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. He could not contain his laughter. "Joke, sorry."
Buffy playfully swiped at his arm. "So not funny. I only meant that you used to and now you don't. And so now that you are it's... I swear Giles, only you could make me nostalgic weepy over patrol of all things."
"Well perhaps we could make it more of a constant again? If you'd like that is."
"I think I'd very li... Oh hey! Vampire at 12 O'clock!" She began to run ahead, Giles taking off after her, not wanting to let her out of his sight.
The vampire led them in quick pursuit until the gates of Eternal Rest Cemetery where Buffy overtook him. Giles caught up as she engaged the creature in hand-to-hand. She pulled the stake out of her jacket pocket and drew it back. The vampire punched her square in the face and knocked the stake from her grip. Giles instantly dropped the weapons bag he carried and began to rummage for another. Buffy kneed the vampire repeatedly in the stomach. His hand reached out for her throat.
He used his grasp to reel her closer to him, baring his fangs and edging them nearer to her. From his crouched position, Giles could swear he felt something fly by him overhead, the breeze from its passing ruffling his hair slightly. His hand found a stake as he looked up and saw Buffy wince in pain and headbut her opponent. The vampire slashed at the Slayer with his fingernails. Giles saw thin red lines of blood appear on her neck and chest, the top of her tee shirt shredding in the process.
"Buffy!" She turned toward Giles who hurled the stake through the air into her waiting hand. She plunged it into the vampire's chest, obliterating him.
Giles got to his feet and ran to her, gently grasping her upper arms. "Are you all right?"
She nodded her head gently. "Yeah. Poor vamp's version of Freddy Krueger."
He lifted her chin with his finger and observed the damage. "Well, he broke the skin."
"I'm bleeding?"
"Fraid so. What do you say we stop by my place before we continue the patrol? At least get this cleaned up?"
"Works for me. Not like I'm going to be able to sneak up on anything while I'm bleeding. They'll smell me coming."
Giles nodded his agreement, stooping to retrieve his bag before taking light hold of Buffy's arm and walking her towards his house.
In the bushes, across the street from the graveyard, a dark figure watched the retreating man and woman as he disassembled his weapon.
******
Buffy sat on the counter in Giles' bathroom as he ran a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic over the red ridges the vampire's nails had left in its wake. As he moved up her neck, he encountered a slightly larger tear in her flesh. When he touched the cotton to it, she hissed. "Sorry. He got you fairly badly there."
"Yeah, I was noticing that what with the bleeding and the pain and all." She smiled at the exasperated look he gave her. "I'm fine Giles. I got scratched up. Not a big. Don't be so worried."
"Perhaps I have to worry about you because you don't worry enough about yourself. Perhaps I like to worry about you."
"Maybe you need a hobby." She smiled again. "Could you see if you could worry me up a tee-shirt? This one is sorta...demolished."
"I'm sure I've got one you could have." He exited the room and was gone a few minutes before returning with a gray tee shirt. He left again, shutting the door to give her the privacy to change and took the opportunity to add some extra stakes to the bag.
"Ta-da!" Buffy emerged from the bathroom, Giles' tee shirt hanging down to almost her knees. "How do I look?"
He smiled. "Like you could wear the bloody thing for a dress."
"Don't make fun. I've worn shorter."
"To school even."
"Giles! I didn't think you noticed that kind of thing."
He put his hands on his hips. "Buffy when I became a Watcher, I didn't stop being a man you know. You're a very beautiful young woman. You always have been." She blushed sweetly. He cleared his throat. "I am...was your Watcher Buffy. Did you really think I could watch you and not *see* you?"
"I...I don't know what to say."
"Thank you comes to mind." He grinned.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Now get your jacket. We have a patrol to finish."
******
They reached the playground at Weatherly Park a little after one in the morning. Buffy noticed a hunched over male figure sitting on the merry-go-round, spinning it with his feet. When he passed before them, they could make out the angles and ridges of its vampire self. Its face was covered in blood. They looked into its hands and saw that it had its fangs buried in a large jackrabbit that'd had the unfortunate luck to amble by.
While Giles sat their bag down, searching through it for back-up weapons, Buffy took out a stake and ran to the merry-go-round, stopping it with her boot. "Okay, now that's just gross! On your feet Fang Boy, Bugs wants justice."
The vampire threw the carcass to the side and stood. Buffy barely held back her laughter. He wasn't even quite eye level with her. "Jesus, I thought Jonathan was short. Let's get this over with Tattoo."
It lunged at her and she put up her hands to block him. She gasped in surprise as he took her to the ground and effectively pinned her. He was too strong! Her legs were pinned beneath his. He grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands and held her arms over her head. She was nearly overcome with panic as his other hand took a vice hold on her jaw and turned her head to the side. "GILES!!!!"
Giles grabbed a crossbow bolt and scrambled to her side. Buffy could feel the vampire lick her neck and let out an anguished, helpless scream. Giles plunged the arrow into the vampire's back. It disintegrated above her and Buffy quickly rolled to the side.
Giles helped her to her feet. She was trembling. He reached out to touch her hair. "Buffy?" She threw her arms around him and cried. He held her, stroking her hair. "It's all right now. He didn't look that strong."
She pulled away. "He wasn't that strong! I was weak!"
"What?"
"God Giles, I felt like I did on my 18th birthday." That was a subject they never discussed anymore. He knew for her to bring it up, it could be no exaggeration.
"Hit me." She looked up, uncomprehendingly. He nodded, smiling gently. "Hit me, hard as you can. Right here," his hand patted the right side of his chest.
"But Giles..."
"Go on Buffy, it's important."
She took a deep breath. "Sorry about this." She backed up a couple of steps, charging forward and punching him where he'd asked her. "OW!" Her mouth fell open in pain and she clutched her fist against her stomach. Giles hadn't moved. He'd barely blinked. "Giles," she whispered, "I have no strength."
He nodded, his hands coming to her arms in comfort. "We've got to get you inside. You're a target like this. We'll get to the bottom of it." She leaned forward against his chest, hugging him for comfort. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Buffy, do you need to ask me something?"
Her tearful eyes glittered up at him in the moonlight. At first she didn't understand his question, then it became clear. He was asking her if she needed to know that it wasn't him that had done this to her. She smiled up at him and shook her head. "There's nothing you need to tell me is there?"
"No."
"Then there's nothing I need to ask."
He nodded and smiled. "Let me get you home."
******
Giles spent a sleepless night pouring over every volume he thought might have any information on Buffy's condition. Prophecies, astrological charts, Slayer lore, the few Watcher journals he had managed to keep copies of, nothing provided any answers. His lack of any other solution had only intensified his worst suspicion. As the first rays of daylight filtered through his window, that suspicion was confirmed by the dropping of a tiny metal dart into the crease of the open book before him.
He jumped up, startled by the previously undetected presence behind him. He whirled around, his eyes narrowing as they found Quentin Travers smug face smiling at him in his living room once more. Giles controlled himself just long enough to ask one thing. "The compound?"
Travers nodded. "It was a very small amou..." He soon found his airway constricted as Giles quickly closed the distance between them and seized him by the throat.
"I told you if you touched her, I would kill you."
Even as his skin began to take on a bluish tint, he grinned. "You won't kill me Rupert. I'm the only one who can keep her alive now," his voice was barely audible but his meaning hit Giles like a sledgehammer in the chest. He released the older man's neck, not bothering to be gentle. He began to pace.
Travers moved away, rubbing his neck and taking a seat on the sofa. "As I was saying. It was a very small amount of the compound from The Test. A fraction of what you gave her then. She'll probably be feeling almost up to full strength by the time she wakes up."
"How did you do it?"
"The dart. One just like it was fired from across the street as she fought with that vampire outside the cemetery gates last night. I told you that you couldn't protect her from us. Do you see that now? We got to her when she was less than five feet away from you and you couldn't do anything to stop it. You didn't even know what had happened. If we'd wanted to kill her, she'd be cold by now."
The rage was radiating off of Giles in waves that seemed to heat the air between them. "What do you want?"
"I told you. You have been ordered to leave." He stood as he reached into his coat pocket. He produced a red and blue envelope.
"What's this?"
"It's your ticket. First class, one-way to London. It leaves from LAX at 6 this evening so you'll need to be out of Sunnydale by 3 in order to make your flight."
Giles backed away. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave her." His voice seemed weaker even to his own ears as fear spread through his body like a runaway virus.
Travers studied him for a moment, realization dawning as he did so. "I was wrong wasn't I? You don't just love her. You're *in * love with her. Aren't you?"
A flash of guilt crossed Giles' features. "And what if I was? It never interfered with my job. We're a team. Why can't you understand that? The Watcher's job is to keep his Slayer alive!"
"A Watcher's job is to learn from the journals of those who came before him to better train the Slayer to keep *herself * alive and to observe and record his Slayer for the benefit of the Watchers to follow him."
"I won't abandon her. I won't leave."
"You will be on that flight or Buffy will be dead by dawn tomorrow. As you've seen, we can get to her at any time, even right in front of your eyes. I realize that we aren't giving you enough time to see to your belongings. The Council will see to any arrangements you make regarding them but you will leave today. You will sever all contact with her. You will not call, write or visit her." Travers set the ticket on the desk.
Giles stared at the ticket as though it were a warrant for his own death. "One more thing Rupert. You will not say good-bye to her."
The younger man's haunted gaze lifted to look into Travers' cold eyes. "If she knows that it was the Council that * asked* you to leave, it may make her reluctant to reconcile with us. That would be very unfortunate for your Miss Summers' health."
The phone on the desk rang. Rupert reached over the glaring ticket to retrieve the handset. "Hello? Buffy?" Giles sank into the chair as all the breath went out of his lungs.
"Hey Giles. I think you were right last night. I panicked over nothing. It must have been a touch of the flu or something. I feel great today."
"Oh good. I'm...I'm very glad to hear that. It's important to me that you stay...healthy." Giles bit his lip to keep his emotions at bay. He wasn't about to cry in front of Quentin Travers, no matter how much his body disagreed.
"Giles, are you okay? You sound like you're in pain." He inhaled sharply. "You didn't catch this flu bug too, did you?"
"I'm afraid I might have just caught some ill effects of whatever got to you last night." He fixed Travers with a defiant glare. "I think perhaps I may stay in and rest today."
"That's probably best. Sleep seems to have helped me. I gotta get to class, but I'll come by afterwards. Maybe around 4? I'll bring you some chicken soup." He could hear the smile in her voice.
"That would be nice."
"Cool. I'll let you get back to bed."
Giles forced a small smile as he continued to stare at the older man. "Good-bye Buffy."
"Later Giles."
As he hung up, he heard Travers exhale loudly. "Defiant to the last my boy. Well, I hope that got it out of your system. If you're not on that flight when it takes off, I'll see you at Buffy's funeral." He left without looking at Giles even one more time.
When the door shut, Giles ran a hand back through his hair. Unable to hold back his tears any more, they came hard and fast. Perhaps it was best if he did leave if he could no longer keep his true feelings for Buffy hidden. If an unfeeling bastard like Travers could read his heart so clearly, how long before Buffy would see it too? Then again, she hadn't in four years. And for all his previous bravado, he had to accept that they could have eliminated Buffy within arms reach of him and he couldn't protect her.
How could he even consider leaving her, letting her face the Hellmouth's evils alone? He'd go insane being half a world away, wondering as he started his day if she'd made it through the night.
Giles cast a glance out his window as the morning grew later. He had so few hours to decide how the rest of his life and Buffy's would be.
******
At 4:15, Buffy unlocked the door to Giles' darkened apartment and creeped in, balancing a steaming Styrofoam container of soup as she silently shut the door. She quietly made her way to the lightswitch, not wanting to wake him. As she flipped it on, she gasped at the sight it revealed to her. The furniture had been covered with big plastic tarps to keep the dust off of it and the little trinkets that normally adorned the mantle and shelves were missing. Buffy dropped the soup to the floor and ran upstairs, panicked. "GILES??" She took two or three steps in a bound. When she reached the loft, she saw that he was not sleeping in his bed. It was also shrouded in dustcovers. As the terrible fear grew in her chest, she moved to his armoire, yanking off the plastic and flinging open the doors. It was completely empty.
******
Giles turned away from his reflection in the window as the plane left the ground. The flight attendant walked to his seat. "Can I get you anything to drink sir?"
"Scotch, no ice." As she moved off to retrieve his order, he glanced down on the tiny city below him. "Good-bye Buffy." A tear began to roll down his cheek. "I'm sorry."
The End