[fic] And Away We Go (just Giles, PG)
And Away We Go
Rating: PG
Ships: brief allusions to canon ships, but mostly Just Giles.
Summary: "Is it weird," Xander asks, "having your roles reversed? Being the one Watcher in all the world - amid hundreds of Slayers?"
A/N: Many, many thanks to r_becca for 1. convincing me to sign up and 2. beta reading this story. It's about 2,000 words, set a couple of weeks after "Chosen." I was thinking about Season 8 as I wrote this, but you totally don't need to have read any of it.
Faith
She drops them off at the terminal. "Later, guys. Sorry," she adds, turning in the driver's seat. "Don't do goodbyes. The hug thing, especially. Not a fan."
Dawn, Xander, Willow, Kennedy, and Andrew seem fine with this and exit the bus quickly, shouldering their bags, but Giles and Buffy hesitate.
"Are you sure," Buffy starts, but Faith cuts her off.
"B, I'm always sure."
The full red lips are curved in a smile, but Giles hears the faint doubt in her tone.
"You could still come with us," he says, knowing she'll refuse. Part of him is glad he hasn't been able to convince her; she's trouble, even when she's on their side. Another part of him would prefer to be able to keep an eye on her. He trusts Robin, knows Faith respects him as much as she's capable of respecting any man she sleeps with, but…
Faith shakes her head. "Can't see myself in merry ol' England. Too much tea, too much rain."
"You wouldn't be required to drink tea," says Giles. "And it really doesn't rain as much as-"
"Just can't see it, G-man."
"Please don't call me that again."
"Yeah, sorry. Look, I got nothing against your country. I just need space, and there's more of it here. 'Sides, they might need me in LA again. I mean, if Angel's getting mixed up with Wolfram and Hart, we're gonna want someone on this side of the pond who can kick his ass."
Giles feels Buffy stiffen in the seat beside him, but she doesn't say anything.
He regards Faith for a moment and feels a pang of regret. He knows that there was little he could have done for her four years ago, when it first became apparent that the demons in her head were at least as fierce as the ones she fought in cemeteries at night. Still.
"Be careful," he says at length. "It could be dangerous."
Faith's smile widens. "When isn't it? Relax. Danger's my middle name. Actually, it's-" She leans over the seat and whispers a word in Buffy's ear.
"It is not!" gasps Buffy.
Faith pulls back. "Catch you guys on the flipside."
Andrew
Giles has never liked airplanes - or airports. He accepts them as necessary evils, but there are any number of unpleasant things he would rather deal with than security guards, long queues, and overpriced refreshments, followed by several hours with no foot room whatsoever, a screaming child on his left, a snorer on his right, and nothing to eat but some mash that's more fitting fodder for some of the demons he's fought.
Any number of unpleasant things.
Giles isn't sure yet, but listening to Andrew yatter about…something…may not be one.
He looks around - discreetly - for help, spots Buffy and Dawn arguing in a souvenir shop, and Xander standing by one of the airport's huge windows, head bowed, hands in his pockets. Giles raises his eyebrows, but of course none of them see him. Buffy appears to be trying to explain to Dawn that they need to save their money. Xander seems engrossed in his shoelaces.
"So, Sabé created a distraction," Andrew was saying, "because - remember - she was dressed like Amidala. So, Gunray sent some of his droids after her, and the real Amidala was able to get the weapons in the desk and use them to destroy the other droids and capture Gunray. Get it?"
Giles blinks. "I, ah…"
Andrew looks up him. "Do you think it's a good idea?"
Giles removes his glasses, starts wiping them on the cuff of his sleeve. They aren't dirty. The intensity of Andrew's gaze is a little disconcerting. "I'm sorry, no. I was distracted by…ah…"
"I'll explain again." Andrew seems unfazed. " Sabé, who looks enough like Amidala to-"
"Maybe," Giles interrupts, not unkindly, "you could summarize. Maybe in a single sentence. Without references to science fiction films that I haven't seen. Or tell me how this story pertains to Buffy. You did say - some time ago - that this had something to do with Buffy."
Andrew sighs, like he thinks Giles is being particularly thick. "I just think it might be useful if Buffy had a decoy or two, like Ami- I mean. It might give her more freedom."
"And place her decoys in considerable danger."
"They'd be Slayers, too. I don't know how many girls we have now, but there must be one or two who look enough like Buffy to fool someone - or something - who's never seen her in person. Right?"
Giles is distracted again, this time by Andrew's use of the word we. Girls we have now. Our girls. Our Slayers. Andrew's role in all this has not yet been defined - there simply hasn't been time between the destruction of Sunnydale and the decision to travel to Britain and make that their base of operations - but he clearly takes it seriously. Giles meets his eager gaze.
"I'll have to discuss it with Buffy - and the other Slayers, of course - but, yes. The idea has merit."
Andrew beams.
Willow
Giles has more reservations about leaving her than he did about leaving Faith.
"I'll be fine," she insists. "I mean, I'm still kind of - whoa. From the spell. But not, you know, whoa. You know?"
"Er," says Giles. "I think so."
"I know what you're thinking," Willow says, "and you're right to think it, but really, as long as I'm with Kennedy…" She blushes and her glance slides to Kennedy, who's sitting just out of earshot, reading Lonely Planet's guide to Rio de Janeiro.
"And what happens," Giles says, because it must be said, "if, at some point in the future, you're not with Kennedy?"
The color drains from her cheeks. She doesn't look at him. "That won't happen," she says with quiet conviction.
"Willow." This is the third time she's given her heart completely, and he wants to caution her against it even though he knows it's too late, even though he knows she knows.
"It's different with Kennedy," Willow says quietly. "I mean, it's not like I love her more than I loved Oz or Tara. It's just…different. I guess I know myself better now, so there's less chance of me losing myself. You know?"
"I think so," Giles says again, unsure if he should take some comfort in the fact that the thing Willow denied was the loss of her self-control, not the loss of Kennedy.
He would like to put an arm around her shoulders, the way he did when she was younger. Back then, of course, she'd have sought the hug herself; now he's not sure she'd welcome it. He's been thinking a great deal about the spell that Buffy had her cast, the one that awakened the Slayer powers in all the Potentials. He's not sure if Buffy and Willow did the Watchers' Council one better or if they effectively gave it the finger or what.
He meant to talk to Willow about it, but the right time never presented itself. Now there's no time. Kennedy closes her guidebook, slips it into her messenger bag, rises, and starts toward them. Their plane to Rio is boarding.
Xander
"Is it weird," Xander asks as they watch Willow and Kennedy's plane pull away from the terminal and start to taxi down the runway, "having your roles reversed? Being the one Watcher in all the world - amid hundreds of Slayers?"
"Our roles are not reversed," says Giles, "merely our numbers." That's not precisely true, but if he starts to elaborate he'll end up questioning aloud his usefulness to the group, and that's not something he's ready to do.
"But I bet it's weird," Xander says.
"Extremely. Though not in a bad way," Giles continues after a brief silence. "On the contrary. It's an honor to be a part of the evolution of the Slayer's role. I doubt many of my former colleagues would have relished it."
"Wouldn't have enjoyed being outnumbered by girls - any one of whom could've kicked all their asses?"
"No, they would not have. Thank you, by the way, for using the pronoun correctly."
Out of the corner of his eye, Giles sees Xander grin. "Stuff rubs off on me. Some stuff, anyway. Not super powers, not fashion sense, but grammar… Not," he adds quickly, "that I can tell you the difference between lay and lie. Except lie is something you shouldn't do because someone always finds out, and lay with a d is something that's probably not going to happen to me ever again."
"I'm afraid," Giles says somewhat dryly, "that's not something with which I can help you."
Giles can no longer discern Willow and Kennedy's plane from the others preparing for takeoff. They all look the same in the late afternoon sunlight.
"It's weird," says Xander, "leaving the country for the first time."
"I suppose I felt the same way when I first left England," Giles replies. He could probably remember how he felt if he really thought about it. Right now, he's disinclined. It was such a long time ago. Feels that way, at least. He wasn't the person he is now.
"It's weird leaving everything behind," Xander continues. "Not that I'm leaving much. Not that I miss Sunnydale - or would have if it hadn't become a big hole in the ground." His tone is still bright, but there's a brittleness to it. Giles doesn't look, but guesses that the grin has vanished. "There were things about it that I liked, but mostly-"
"Anya," Giles interrupts gently.
"Yeah."
They're quiet again, then Xander says raggedly, "Giles, we didn't even bury her. I know there wasn't time. I don't even know if that's what she would have wanted, but it just seems like- I don't know. And I can't say anything to anyone because we all left someone. Buffy and Dawn left Joyce, Willow left Tara. I feel like it's different with Anya. I mean, I never got to visit her grave. Now I'll never get to. That sounds weird. Like it's some sort of honor. But it kind of is, right? I mean, why do we go to graves? To honor the memory of the person who died. And I can't-"
Giles interrupts again. "You can honor her memory. By continuing to fight for the things she fought for. By helping Buffy. And me."
"Help you?"
"Yes." A plane takes off. Imagining that it's the one carrying Willow and Kennedy to Brazil, Giles watches as it gets smaller and smaller, until it's just a white fleck against a darkening sky. When it's gone, he says, "As you pointed out, there are now hundreds of Slayers and only one Watcher. I'd like to improve that ratio slightly."
Buffy
"Look at that."
"At what?"
"That little old lady with the pink hair." Buffy points. "Look at those knitting needles. How come she can take her needles on the plane, but my lip gloss is a deadly weapon? Actually, I bet I could turn lip gloss into a deadly weapon. I'll have to try it sometime. That little old lady tries anything funny, I can take her."
"Dawn could take her," Giles says.
"Speaking of. I want you to do something for me, Giles."
When, he wonders, am I not doing things for you? Willingly? Gladly? "What is it?" he says.
"Dawn. I know it's kind of early, but I want her to go to college. I think she wants to go too, but you know how she'll get if I try to talk to her about it. I need you to back me up."
He thinks, I always have your back. Says, "Of course."
"I want her to get to do the things I didn't, but I don't want her to think I'm trying to live vicariously through her. She'll probably think that no matter what I say, huh? We were arguing before. She wanted to get stuff for our place in England, wherever that is. I can understand wanting to make a new place feel like home but I don't want it to become home for her." She sighs. "I'm a mean big sister."
"Buffy…"
"Yeah?" Her ponytail bounces against her shoulders as she turns to look up at him. Her brows are drawn together, making her appear very young. Much too young to be the head of an army.
Buffy, I sort of suggested Xander train to be a Watcher. I'm thinking of asking Andrew if he's interested. I'm worried about Faith. And Willow. All of us, really. I don't what to do now that I'm the only Watcher amid hundreds of Slayers, except take you to England and try to figure out where to go from there. I have your back. We'll both work on Dawn. I don't think you have to worry about the little old lady with pink hair.
"Um, Giles? You still with me?"
"I'm here, Buffy," he says simply.
6/09/07
Rating: PG
Ships: brief allusions to canon ships, but mostly Just Giles.
Summary: "Is it weird," Xander asks, "having your roles reversed? Being the one Watcher in all the world - amid hundreds of Slayers?"
A/N: Many, many thanks to r_becca for 1. convincing me to sign up and 2. beta reading this story. It's about 2,000 words, set a couple of weeks after "Chosen." I was thinking about Season 8 as I wrote this, but you totally don't need to have read any of it.
Faith
She drops them off at the terminal. "Later, guys. Sorry," she adds, turning in the driver's seat. "Don't do goodbyes. The hug thing, especially. Not a fan."
Dawn, Xander, Willow, Kennedy, and Andrew seem fine with this and exit the bus quickly, shouldering their bags, but Giles and Buffy hesitate.
"Are you sure," Buffy starts, but Faith cuts her off.
"B, I'm always sure."
The full red lips are curved in a smile, but Giles hears the faint doubt in her tone.
"You could still come with us," he says, knowing she'll refuse. Part of him is glad he hasn't been able to convince her; she's trouble, even when she's on their side. Another part of him would prefer to be able to keep an eye on her. He trusts Robin, knows Faith respects him as much as she's capable of respecting any man she sleeps with, but…
Faith shakes her head. "Can't see myself in merry ol' England. Too much tea, too much rain."
"You wouldn't be required to drink tea," says Giles. "And it really doesn't rain as much as-"
"Just can't see it, G-man."
"Please don't call me that again."
"Yeah, sorry. Look, I got nothing against your country. I just need space, and there's more of it here. 'Sides, they might need me in LA again. I mean, if Angel's getting mixed up with Wolfram and Hart, we're gonna want someone on this side of the pond who can kick his ass."
Giles feels Buffy stiffen in the seat beside him, but she doesn't say anything.
He regards Faith for a moment and feels a pang of regret. He knows that there was little he could have done for her four years ago, when it first became apparent that the demons in her head were at least as fierce as the ones she fought in cemeteries at night. Still.
"Be careful," he says at length. "It could be dangerous."
Faith's smile widens. "When isn't it? Relax. Danger's my middle name. Actually, it's-" She leans over the seat and whispers a word in Buffy's ear.
"It is not!" gasps Buffy.
Faith pulls back. "Catch you guys on the flipside."
Andrew
Giles has never liked airplanes - or airports. He accepts them as necessary evils, but there are any number of unpleasant things he would rather deal with than security guards, long queues, and overpriced refreshments, followed by several hours with no foot room whatsoever, a screaming child on his left, a snorer on his right, and nothing to eat but some mash that's more fitting fodder for some of the demons he's fought.
Any number of unpleasant things.
Giles isn't sure yet, but listening to Andrew yatter about…something…may not be one.
He looks around - discreetly - for help, spots Buffy and Dawn arguing in a souvenir shop, and Xander standing by one of the airport's huge windows, head bowed, hands in his pockets. Giles raises his eyebrows, but of course none of them see him. Buffy appears to be trying to explain to Dawn that they need to save their money. Xander seems engrossed in his shoelaces.
"So, Sabé created a distraction," Andrew was saying, "because - remember - she was dressed like Amidala. So, Gunray sent some of his droids after her, and the real Amidala was able to get the weapons in the desk and use them to destroy the other droids and capture Gunray. Get it?"
Giles blinks. "I, ah…"
Andrew looks up him. "Do you think it's a good idea?"
Giles removes his glasses, starts wiping them on the cuff of his sleeve. They aren't dirty. The intensity of Andrew's gaze is a little disconcerting. "I'm sorry, no. I was distracted by…ah…"
"I'll explain again." Andrew seems unfazed. " Sabé, who looks enough like Amidala to-"
"Maybe," Giles interrupts, not unkindly, "you could summarize. Maybe in a single sentence. Without references to science fiction films that I haven't seen. Or tell me how this story pertains to Buffy. You did say - some time ago - that this had something to do with Buffy."
Andrew sighs, like he thinks Giles is being particularly thick. "I just think it might be useful if Buffy had a decoy or two, like Ami- I mean. It might give her more freedom."
"And place her decoys in considerable danger."
"They'd be Slayers, too. I don't know how many girls we have now, but there must be one or two who look enough like Buffy to fool someone - or something - who's never seen her in person. Right?"
Giles is distracted again, this time by Andrew's use of the word we. Girls we have now. Our girls. Our Slayers. Andrew's role in all this has not yet been defined - there simply hasn't been time between the destruction of Sunnydale and the decision to travel to Britain and make that their base of operations - but he clearly takes it seriously. Giles meets his eager gaze.
"I'll have to discuss it with Buffy - and the other Slayers, of course - but, yes. The idea has merit."
Andrew beams.
Willow
Giles has more reservations about leaving her than he did about leaving Faith.
"I'll be fine," she insists. "I mean, I'm still kind of - whoa. From the spell. But not, you know, whoa. You know?"
"Er," says Giles. "I think so."
"I know what you're thinking," Willow says, "and you're right to think it, but really, as long as I'm with Kennedy…" She blushes and her glance slides to Kennedy, who's sitting just out of earshot, reading Lonely Planet's guide to Rio de Janeiro.
"And what happens," Giles says, because it must be said, "if, at some point in the future, you're not with Kennedy?"
The color drains from her cheeks. She doesn't look at him. "That won't happen," she says with quiet conviction.
"Willow." This is the third time she's given her heart completely, and he wants to caution her against it even though he knows it's too late, even though he knows she knows.
"It's different with Kennedy," Willow says quietly. "I mean, it's not like I love her more than I loved Oz or Tara. It's just…different. I guess I know myself better now, so there's less chance of me losing myself. You know?"
"I think so," Giles says again, unsure if he should take some comfort in the fact that the thing Willow denied was the loss of her self-control, not the loss of Kennedy.
He would like to put an arm around her shoulders, the way he did when she was younger. Back then, of course, she'd have sought the hug herself; now he's not sure she'd welcome it. He's been thinking a great deal about the spell that Buffy had her cast, the one that awakened the Slayer powers in all the Potentials. He's not sure if Buffy and Willow did the Watchers' Council one better or if they effectively gave it the finger or what.
He meant to talk to Willow about it, but the right time never presented itself. Now there's no time. Kennedy closes her guidebook, slips it into her messenger bag, rises, and starts toward them. Their plane to Rio is boarding.
Xander
"Is it weird," Xander asks as they watch Willow and Kennedy's plane pull away from the terminal and start to taxi down the runway, "having your roles reversed? Being the one Watcher in all the world - amid hundreds of Slayers?"
"Our roles are not reversed," says Giles, "merely our numbers." That's not precisely true, but if he starts to elaborate he'll end up questioning aloud his usefulness to the group, and that's not something he's ready to do.
"But I bet it's weird," Xander says.
"Extremely. Though not in a bad way," Giles continues after a brief silence. "On the contrary. It's an honor to be a part of the evolution of the Slayer's role. I doubt many of my former colleagues would have relished it."
"Wouldn't have enjoyed being outnumbered by girls - any one of whom could've kicked all their asses?"
"No, they would not have. Thank you, by the way, for using the pronoun correctly."
Out of the corner of his eye, Giles sees Xander grin. "Stuff rubs off on me. Some stuff, anyway. Not super powers, not fashion sense, but grammar… Not," he adds quickly, "that I can tell you the difference between lay and lie. Except lie is something you shouldn't do because someone always finds out, and lay with a d is something that's probably not going to happen to me ever again."
"I'm afraid," Giles says somewhat dryly, "that's not something with which I can help you."
Giles can no longer discern Willow and Kennedy's plane from the others preparing for takeoff. They all look the same in the late afternoon sunlight.
"It's weird," says Xander, "leaving the country for the first time."
"I suppose I felt the same way when I first left England," Giles replies. He could probably remember how he felt if he really thought about it. Right now, he's disinclined. It was such a long time ago. Feels that way, at least. He wasn't the person he is now.
"It's weird leaving everything behind," Xander continues. "Not that I'm leaving much. Not that I miss Sunnydale - or would have if it hadn't become a big hole in the ground." His tone is still bright, but there's a brittleness to it. Giles doesn't look, but guesses that the grin has vanished. "There were things about it that I liked, but mostly-"
"Anya," Giles interrupts gently.
"Yeah."
They're quiet again, then Xander says raggedly, "Giles, we didn't even bury her. I know there wasn't time. I don't even know if that's what she would have wanted, but it just seems like- I don't know. And I can't say anything to anyone because we all left someone. Buffy and Dawn left Joyce, Willow left Tara. I feel like it's different with Anya. I mean, I never got to visit her grave. Now I'll never get to. That sounds weird. Like it's some sort of honor. But it kind of is, right? I mean, why do we go to graves? To honor the memory of the person who died. And I can't-"
Giles interrupts again. "You can honor her memory. By continuing to fight for the things she fought for. By helping Buffy. And me."
"Help you?"
"Yes." A plane takes off. Imagining that it's the one carrying Willow and Kennedy to Brazil, Giles watches as it gets smaller and smaller, until it's just a white fleck against a darkening sky. When it's gone, he says, "As you pointed out, there are now hundreds of Slayers and only one Watcher. I'd like to improve that ratio slightly."
Buffy
"Look at that."
"At what?"
"That little old lady with the pink hair." Buffy points. "Look at those knitting needles. How come she can take her needles on the plane, but my lip gloss is a deadly weapon? Actually, I bet I could turn lip gloss into a deadly weapon. I'll have to try it sometime. That little old lady tries anything funny, I can take her."
"Dawn could take her," Giles says.
"Speaking of. I want you to do something for me, Giles."
When, he wonders, am I not doing things for you? Willingly? Gladly? "What is it?" he says.
"Dawn. I know it's kind of early, but I want her to go to college. I think she wants to go too, but you know how she'll get if I try to talk to her about it. I need you to back me up."
He thinks, I always have your back. Says, "Of course."
"I want her to get to do the things I didn't, but I don't want her to think I'm trying to live vicariously through her. She'll probably think that no matter what I say, huh? We were arguing before. She wanted to get stuff for our place in England, wherever that is. I can understand wanting to make a new place feel like home but I don't want it to become home for her." She sighs. "I'm a mean big sister."
"Buffy…"
"Yeah?" Her ponytail bounces against her shoulders as she turns to look up at him. Her brows are drawn together, making her appear very young. Much too young to be the head of an army.
Buffy, I sort of suggested Xander train to be a Watcher. I'm thinking of asking Andrew if he's interested. I'm worried about Faith. And Willow. All of us, really. I don't what to do now that I'm the only Watcher amid hundreds of Slayers, except take you to England and try to figure out where to go from there. I have your back. We'll both work on Dawn. I don't think you have to worry about the little old lady with pink hair.
"Um, Giles? You still with me?"
"I'm here, Buffy," he says simply.
6/09/07