The Turning of the Year 2/7
A year after part one, and life is moving on... ( The Rulesverse timeline is here for navigating you through the verse if necessary.)
December 25 2004 - January 4 2005: Deeper In
Giles ate his slice of turkey with fake cheer. The Brussels sprouts were overcooked. He wasn’t alone, but he might as well have been. Buffy was in Moscow. Xander was in Cairo, Willow in Xianyang. His family were scattered.
He had three dozen half-trained semi-strangers to jolly along, too. They were mainly non-European and unable to get home for a break, pining for their own families too. Traditional English Christmas food was proving to be a challenge. Giles had spent almost an hour the night before trying to elucidate the differences between Christmas cake, mince pies and Christmas pudding. Discovering rather to his dismay that he could only guarantee the cake to be vegetarian-friendly. Probably.
But that wasn’t the problem, of course.
Faith was in Colombia again. In Tunja, to be precise. Sounding cheerful and active and bloody far away. He shouldn’t resent it so. He feigned being just as chirpy when she phoned. Or lascivious, depending on mood. Sometimes, he felt a little old for phone sex. Mostly, he knew he’d just prefer to have her there in person.
Christmas passed, slowly. There were calls. The mission went well. She came back in time. Not long, actually. And Giles met her off the plane at Heathrow. Which was ridiculous, considering the seven hour journey to get home from there. He had a cover story about rare books from an old contact in London, if anyone had asked. But no one did. Maybe he was exactly as obvious as he feared.
He kissed Faith at 9.14pm, and felt the new year slip into its right place. “Happy two-days-before-Epiphany.”
“Is that a good day?”
“Very. Very auspicious indeed.” Please don’t ask me for details, I’m talking gibberish. But the day felt warm and as though his Christmas had finally arrived.
Later...
“I got you a gift,” said Faith, looking awkward.
He blinked, surprised. Faith and presents didn’t quite fit somehow, though of course he’d bought her something. Soft black suede gloves, impractical and stylish. She’d posed for him, balanced between glamour and gawkiness. He planned to have those gloved hands on him later.
Now it was his turn to unwrap (remove from a paper bag. Giftwrap was evidently not Faith, at least). Giles was determined to be pleased, whatever it was.
It was a book. An old one. A demon text; not one Giles had ever seen.
“I talked to Jaime. He thought you’d like this.” That was impressive: his South American opposite number didn’t unbend for Slayers all that often, and was thousands of miles away from Faith’s Colombia base. She’d worked at this.
She was smiling, with just a hint of uncertainty.
“You like?”
“It’s perfect. I’ll treasure it. However did you track it down?”
Faith looked away, briefly. Considering a lie, and dropping it. “I killed the last owner. Big warlock-type, with those necromanced slave guys? I told you about them.”
“Yes. I remember.” Giles had been shaking when he put the phone down on that call. And had spent three nights working through support spells for Jaime’s apprentices to weave into the protective net for the Slayers. A reminder of how dangerous Faith’s world was; but the book was also precious evidence of how she was working Giles into her perilous life. Maybe she wasn’t going to leave him.
Which meant... a great deal, he hoped. He kept his eyes down on the book, fearing that she’d spot his emotional response. Not ready to share that yet.
“I was thinking...” Faith’s voice trailed off.
“Hmmm?”
“Maybe I’ll go for a real home posting this year.” With an effort, she looked squarely at Giles for his response. “Be nice to be back here more, right? See how we get along?”
Giles hoped she couldn’t sense his suddenly rapid heartbeat. She was coming back for him. To try and make something of this... thing between them.
He managed a suitably positive response, still trying for casual. Not wanting to scare her with the sudden soaring hope he felt.
*
Part three is here
December 25 2004 - January 4 2005: Deeper In
Giles ate his slice of turkey with fake cheer. The Brussels sprouts were overcooked. He wasn’t alone, but he might as well have been. Buffy was in Moscow. Xander was in Cairo, Willow in Xianyang. His family were scattered.
He had three dozen half-trained semi-strangers to jolly along, too. They were mainly non-European and unable to get home for a break, pining for their own families too. Traditional English Christmas food was proving to be a challenge. Giles had spent almost an hour the night before trying to elucidate the differences between Christmas cake, mince pies and Christmas pudding. Discovering rather to his dismay that he could only guarantee the cake to be vegetarian-friendly. Probably.
But that wasn’t the problem, of course.
Faith was in Colombia again. In Tunja, to be precise. Sounding cheerful and active and bloody far away. He shouldn’t resent it so. He feigned being just as chirpy when she phoned. Or lascivious, depending on mood. Sometimes, he felt a little old for phone sex. Mostly, he knew he’d just prefer to have her there in person.
Christmas passed, slowly. There were calls. The mission went well. She came back in time. Not long, actually. And Giles met her off the plane at Heathrow. Which was ridiculous, considering the seven hour journey to get home from there. He had a cover story about rare books from an old contact in London, if anyone had asked. But no one did. Maybe he was exactly as obvious as he feared.
He kissed Faith at 9.14pm, and felt the new year slip into its right place. “Happy two-days-before-Epiphany.”
“Is that a good day?”
“Very. Very auspicious indeed.” Please don’t ask me for details, I’m talking gibberish. But the day felt warm and as though his Christmas had finally arrived.
Later...
“I got you a gift,” said Faith, looking awkward.
He blinked, surprised. Faith and presents didn’t quite fit somehow, though of course he’d bought her something. Soft black suede gloves, impractical and stylish. She’d posed for him, balanced between glamour and gawkiness. He planned to have those gloved hands on him later.
Now it was his turn to unwrap (remove from a paper bag. Giftwrap was evidently not Faith, at least). Giles was determined to be pleased, whatever it was.
It was a book. An old one. A demon text; not one Giles had ever seen.
“I talked to Jaime. He thought you’d like this.” That was impressive: his South American opposite number didn’t unbend for Slayers all that often, and was thousands of miles away from Faith’s Colombia base. She’d worked at this.
She was smiling, with just a hint of uncertainty.
“You like?”
“It’s perfect. I’ll treasure it. However did you track it down?”
Faith looked away, briefly. Considering a lie, and dropping it. “I killed the last owner. Big warlock-type, with those necromanced slave guys? I told you about them.”
“Yes. I remember.” Giles had been shaking when he put the phone down on that call. And had spent three nights working through support spells for Jaime’s apprentices to weave into the protective net for the Slayers. A reminder of how dangerous Faith’s world was; but the book was also precious evidence of how she was working Giles into her perilous life. Maybe she wasn’t going to leave him.
Which meant... a great deal, he hoped. He kept his eyes down on the book, fearing that she’d spot his emotional response. Not ready to share that yet.
“I was thinking...” Faith’s voice trailed off.
“Hmmm?”
“Maybe I’ll go for a real home posting this year.” With an effort, she looked squarely at Giles for his response. “Be nice to be back here more, right? See how we get along?”
Giles hoped she couldn’t sense his suddenly rapid heartbeat. She was coming back for him. To try and make something of this... thing between them.
He managed a suitably positive response, still trying for casual. Not wanting to scare her with the sudden soaring hope he felt.
*
Part three is here