The Library Girl's Fan Fiction Archive

Shag the Librarian Day Postponed by 2 Weeks

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 19:20:01 GMT

Rupert frowned as he translated a passage from an ancient Aztec book. Could this be right? Surely if something of that magnitude was going to happen, there would be other prophecies, wouldn't there? As he reread the sentence, he smiled. Oh, there was the mistake. Who knew transposing two words could change a holiday festival into the end of the world? As he was turning the page to continue, there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he called absently, his finger tracing along the words on the page.

When he heard the door close, he looked up to see Ann and Laura walk in. He put the book aside and rose to hug them, stopping when Laura put her hand up.

"Is something wrong?" Rupert asked.

"Not so much wrong," Laura said. She paused, her nose wrinkling. Before she could continue, she sneezed three times in a row. She took a deep breath and sighed. "And that would be the problem. I've been snurffling for the last week. And my kids had it the week before that."

Rupert stepped forward to hug her, but she stopped him, putting up her hand again.

"I'd just sneeze on you," she sighed.

"Trust me," Ann put in, looking at Laura. "She's already gotten me twice. You don't want any part of that."

"I said I was sorry," Laura pouted.

"I'll take my chances," Rupert said, crossing over and wrapping her in his arms.

"Have I mentioned that I hate being ill?" Laura asked. "I'm so far behind that I'll never see the light of day. I have so much to do and I'm so tired and I'm not even close to ready for Shag the Librarian day."

"Relax, love," Rupert replied, gently kissing the top of her head. "If you need some time, postpone for a couple of weeks."

"You wouldn't mind?" Laura asked, looking up at him and stifling a sneeze.

"It should be enjoyable for all of us, dearest." He kissed the top of her head again.

"I'm actually not going to complain either," Ann said, walking over to join them. Rupert moved Laura to one side and put an arm around Ann, pulling her to him. "I cannot even tell you how crazy my life has been. A couple extra weeks to get ready for StLD would be perfect."

Laura sneezed again and Rupert moved them over the sofa, sitting them down so that Laura could relax a bit.

"So we will move it to the December 4th weekend, yes?" he asked.

"If that's okay with you," Ann replied.

"It's the perfect way to start the holidays," Rupert said with a smile.

-----------------

If your life is anything like mine, then you need this extra two weeks. We are moving Shag the Librarian Day to the December 4th weekend. You can start posting stories that Friday and put them up all weekend. Remember, you, Rupert, sexy shaggage.

You can sign up for the community at: http://community.livejournal.com/giles_shagathon/ but you don't have to be a community member to post. Full details and rules are at the community page.

So, you have two weeks. Write something good, share the love, shag the Librarian!

Shag The Librarian Day is Back!

Mon, 05 Oct 2009 19:23:30 GMT

Rupert Giles sat at the desk in his flat, his head in his hands. The echoing, lonely quiet was overwhelming. He'd really been hoping some of the women he'd come to care for would stop by and visit, but it seemed they were all too busy for him. He knew they loved him, after all, they had done Shag the Librarian day for him and he enjoyed his summer tribute, but lately, it had been relatively quiet. All his friends, Xander, Oz, Buffy, Wesley, even Spike and Angel were getting fan love, but he was getting cast into angsty roles or a background figure. He was a good man. He tried his best to be a champion, a hero. And yet, he was always cast in the role of father figure. Surely there were women out there who loved him, who wanted to love him. Why couldn't he find them? Why did he never get any love?

Show your Rupert love and join us for the second official Shag the Librarian Day!

Yes, we are back!!

What is Shag the Librarian Day, you ask?

Shag the Librarian day is a one day ficathon where everyone shows their love for our favorite Super Librarian Watcher Hero Guy, Rupert Giles. There isn't a signup for it. You write a story about shagging the Watcher guy and you post it on that day. (In actuality, time zones being what they are, there's a 48 hour window. And we'll have the site up a week ahead of time in case you are going to be out of town and for a few days after, in case you get the flu, but still want to post.)

When is Shag the Librarian Day?

Well, to facilitate all time zones, it's really a Shag the Librarian Dirty Weekend. We will officially open on November 20th and close posting on November 23rd. (But as I said, the Comm will be up for early posting and we'll stay up and postable until Thanksgiving Day (the 26th.)

As to reading? The stories will stay up there to be read all year and comments can be added whenever.

If this goes well, we will do it again next year, so the stories will be up indefinitely. (Feel free to browse and read last StLD's entries!)

Where is Shag the Librarian Day?

There aren't any signups, so you don't have to become a comm member, but to keep up with what's going on, it helps if you do join. When you are ready to post your story, go here: Giles Shagathon Comm and just hit the "post" button at the top of the page.

Are there any rules?

I'm so glad you asked! There are a few rules to note:

Stories can be any rating. If you prefer to do a fade to black story, go for it. (I always do. My attempts at smut always come out sounding like insert tab A into slot B.) If you want to get crazy and bring out the motor oil and the turkey baster, please do. But if you are going to get into whips, chains, blood, or anything else that might make the shyer among us flinch, please post the appropriate warnings.

Stories can be any length. You can do a short drabble or a long, slow, very descriptive tale. We do ask that you not post your giant 57 chapter epic that has one page of Rupert shaggage. Just cut out the one page and post that. (g)

Now, there is one rule that might make you blink, but, with these stories, there can be no already established characters.

What does that mean?
That means no Rupert shagging Buffy. No Xander, No Willow, No Ethan. They can be there as background characters, but Rupert is the star and you are shagging him. (We also ask that there be no impersonation of any established characters. You can't have your original character impersonating Buffy, or Xander shagging the Watcher. No loopholing here!)

Why?
Because this is a *you* shag the Librarian day. So, pull out those stories, you know you have them. We all do. You never post them because you are sure people want fan fiction stories; no one will want to read them. Well, we do! We want to read your shagging Rupert in the stacks story! We want to read how you caught him on the stairs to his bed. We want to read it all.

Stories can be any format. You can write them first person, such as "Rupert and I were walking down the beach." or second person, such as "You and Rupert walked up the beach. He reached out and took your hand." or even third person: "Rupert held Sara close. She was his world."

They can be set anywhere. You can be anyone. You can be yourself. You can be a teacher at the school. You can work at the museum. You can be a fellow Watcher. We ask however that you *NOT* be a student at the school. Any stories that have an underage or non consensual themes, will be pulled.

This also brings up that as this is a shag-athon, only people over the age of 18 can post and read. No exceptions here. I won't get raided because a 16 year old decided to read this stuff and her parents found out. If any poster or commenter is found to be underage, their post will be pulled and they will be banned. I might even get upset enough to report you to LiveJournal.

This is the part where I make it absolutely clear that We are not in any way, shape, or form associated with Joss Whedon, Anthony Head, or 20th Century Fox. Furthermore, we do NOT have their permission to do this. This is just us, wanting to spread the Giles love.

We are not making any money from this. No one is advertising with us, no one is paying our internet fees. If you should be seized with the odd need to send us gifts or money for our efforts, you should talk to a professional about that, then consider a nice charity. Likewise, if what we do here upsets you, angers you, or fills you with the burning need to round up torches and pitchforks, do NOT take your anger to Joss, Tony, or anyone official. Direct all your hostility towards us.

Should you have any questions, comments, rants, praise, or even suggestions, contact myself, Laura, at Laurtew@Yahoo.com or my partner in crime, the lovely Ann, at annoleary@btinternet.com .

On to more entertaining topics.

We may not have prizes for your stories, but when you post you can take a banner and an icon to let the world know that you shagged the librarian. We have some great ones being designed by my cohort in crime, the ever lovely, Fairygothmum. As soon as they are done, we will post them for your perusal. :)

If you want to enter more than one story, please do! The more Rupert love, the better. If you enter more than once, you can take more than one icon and banner. Enter as often as you like. Collect the whole set of banners. (I may make a special, extra banner for the people who enter enough to get them all.)

Now, as reading these stories is also a form of love, if you leave a comment on one of the stories, sharing the love and encouraging the writers, you can have a banner and an icon too. It's our goal to get as many banners out as we can, so join in!

Further details will be here as available.

So, make Rupert feel loved, bring a smile to his face. Make the sexy Watcherman happy. Share the Giles love. Shag the Librarian.

Sochar Bais - Part 2 - Rupert Gen Story (FRT

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 15:23:37 GMT

Sochar Bais continued. All disclaimers and notes are on part 1. If you haven't read it, Go here!

A slight breeze ghosted through the trees, rattling branches and adding to the eerie atmosphere of the evening and the full moon cast an unnatural light over the forest. In all honesty, Giles was used to the unsettling feelings he had from a night out on the Hellmouth, but this felt different, more oppressive.

Maybe it was that he had Xander with him. He had argued with the boy, stressing that while he had been invaluable with the research, there was no way he was going out to face this creature. And as before, the boy had threatened to tell Buffy and here they were.

It was eight ‘o clock on the night before Halloween and they were wandering through Breaker’s Woods in the dark. As the wind picked up, Giles pulled his jacket tighter around him, marveling that the days could be so comfortable, yet the nights so chilly.

“Hey Giles, are we almost there?” Xander asked, walking faster to pull even with the Watcher. “We’ve been walking for over an hour. Don’t tell me we’re lost.”

“We are not lost,” Giles snapped. “I’m just not entirely sure exactly where the clearing is.”

“Giles, that’s the definition of lost. I know this because I was just studying for the SAT.” Xander frowned at him. “Are you saying we’re lost in the dark, in the woods on Halloween and Buffy’s alone with the big scary monster?”

“We aren’t lost,” Giles reiterated. “And the creature won’t just blindly attack. It’s very intelligent and will likely reconnoiter from a safe point.”

“And you think that point is these woods?”

“It makes the most sense.”

They rounded a stand of trees and Giles felt relief flood through him. This was the clearing he’d been looking for. He would never admit it to Xander, but he had been on the edge of panic. He had a good memory and an excellent sense of direction, but even he had to admit that in the woods, all clearings looked alike.

But this wasn’t any ordinary clearing and if he was right it would be the thing that saved his Slayer from a fight with a slavering green monster.

“Ah, here we are,” he said with barely disguised relief as he put his duffel bag down. “Will you help me set up over there please?”

“So why did we need this specific clearing?” Xander asked, taking some candles from Giles and walking off to set them around the edge of the glade. “We passed at least six big empty fields.”

“We needed this one for its mystical energy,” Giles responded absently, digging though his bag for herbs. “It was used by a local coven for their Black Sabbaths.”

“We have a local coven?” Xander asked, stopping to look at Giles.

“Six actually, but don’t worry. With Breaker’s Woods becoming more popular as a camping spot they’ve found other places to worship.”

The two men worked quickly, Xander making a perimeter with sand, while Giles put together the ingredients he needed. At last, he finished by lighting a small fire and then they were almost ready.

“Whatever happens, stay out of the circle,” Giles stressed as he dug the last item from his bag. He held the long, thin bottle up to the firelight, studying the rich red liquid for a moment.

“Whatever happens? Giles, that doesn’t sound good.” Xander sat on a log just outside the sand circle, looking at Giles with a deep frown. “What exactly is going to happen here? I mean, this isn’t going to be some Mad Monster Party or something, is it?”

“It will be fine, Xander,” Giles replied, opening the bottle and pouring the contents on the ground around him. “I’m protected by the circle. I just don’t want to worry about how much danger you are in.”

Xander nodded, watching Giles sprinkle the last of the liquid on the dirt.

“Is that part of the spell?”

“Not exactly,” Giles said, looking off into the woods.

“Not exactly meaning?”

“It’s demon blood.” If Giles had been paying more attention to Xander he might not have answered so candidly, but his concentration was focused on the dark woods around them.

“I’m sorry, but demon blood?” Xander’s voice had gone up an octave, a sure sign that he was worrying again. “If it’s not for a spell, then why do you have it? And where did you get it? And have I mentioned ick?”

“I took it from the Plathial demon Buffy killed three weeks ago. It’s been in my freezer since then.”

“The same freezer I take ice cream sandwiches from? Okay, remind me not to ask this stuff. And why do you have it?”

Giles was still staring into the darkness. The wind was causing the shadows to shift, making them look alive in the chill of the night and Rupert was worried the demon would sneak up on him. He frowned, shifting slightly to search another section of forest.

“Giles?”

He sighed, turning to face the boy.

“You need to be silent now,” Giles said, just above a whisper. “The blood is to lure the demon here. He will come expecting food and we will trap him. But I need you to stay still and make no noise so as not to attract his attention.”

He could hear Xander swallow from across the clearing and he turned in time to see his barely perceptible nod in the darkness. Giles returned the nod and went back to his vigil, his whole body tense and ready. He could hear Xander shift quietly and then the only sound was the wind through the trees.

Giles expected to have to wait most of the night for the creature to appear, if it came at all. There was always the chance that his calculations were decades off. But he would rather spend the whole night in the woods than be wrong and lose his Slayer to this monster.

He knew he was likely to hear it before he sighted it, so he quieted his breathing and listened intently, trying to distinguish the noises of the night from something much more sinister. The sighing of the wind, the whisper of the leaves, the rustle of the occasional animal; his mind put a name to each sound, dismissing it as a threat and moving on.

And then he heard something different, something larger, more determined. It was still some distance off, drifting on the wind and impossible to locate in the darkness. Giles tensed, straining to see through the trees, desperate to find the creature. The sound was coming closer, definitely not an owl or raccoon, something with much more weight. But he still couldn’t determine what direction it was coming from. He began to feel a bit frantic, straining to hear anything that would give away the demon’s position.

A branch cracked, close enough to make Giles jump, yet he still couldn’t pinpoint a direction. He was just starting to panic when a sharp gasp caught his attention. He looked over to see Xander sitting rigid, his eyes wide, focused on an area behind Giles. Rupert turned quickly, finding himself looking at red eyes, glowing in the darkness.

The demon was larger than he had expected, standing about eight feet high, solid muscle that rippled beneath gray-green scaly skin. It was hairless, its face animal-like with a deeply ridged brow and a blunted snout. Its nose was twitching as it stalked into the clearing, following the scent of the demon blood. It stopped about six feet away from Giles, tilting its head and sniffing the air. Giles swallowed hard, prepared himself for what came next.

“Giles?” Xander’s voice ghosted across the clearing, tense and worried.

“It’s all right,” Giles said, not taking his eyes off the demon. “Just stay where you are.”

Rupert felt his heart speed up and he forced down a wave of panic. Now, if the demon would just step into the circle, everything would be fine. Only a few more feet to go. He took a deep breath and waited. The demon looked around, his gaze settling on Giles. After a moment, its eyes narrowed.

“Just a few more steps,” Rupert thought. And then it was there, in the circle with him and he stepped forward and threw a handful of herbs into the fire.

The flames leapt up, turning a deep emerald green, and the sand circle began to glow gold. The demon turned, looking around, then faced Giles again.

“Why have you done this?” Its voice was rough and deep, its accent harsh. It sounded like a creature from hell and Rupert suppressed a shiver. “Why do you court death?”

“You won’t kill me,” Giles replied quietly. “I’m a mortal animal and beneath your dignity.”

“You have trapped me.” Its eyes glowed brighter. “I will do what I must to be free.”

It started forward, not hurrying, but determined. Rupert looked into its eyes and held up his left hand.

“Stopadh in ait mboon!” His voice echoed through the silence of the night. The fire blazed again and the creature stopped, struggling against an unseen force. It’s snout crinkled in a frown.

“You have magic,” it ground out. It looked at him, assessing the man who stood before him. “Why have you trapped me here? If it is to kill me, you will fail. I cannot be killed by a mere mortal.”

“I know that,” Giles replied, moving closer to the fire. “I brought you here to make a request.”

The creature made a low growling, coughing noise that Giles realized was laughter.

“A request? Do I look like a genie? Make your wish elsewhere and release me!”

“This is not a wish,” Giles replied sternly. “It’s a request only you can grant me.”

The creature looked at him, saying nothing, it’s breathing harsh in the darkness.

“Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve,” Giles continued. “I know you will be out hunting. The Slayer is here and my request is that you let her be.”

The creature tilted its head, studying him.

“A Slayer makes an easy meal. Why would I not hunt her?”

“Because she will not be an easy meal.” Giles looked the demon right in the eyes. “To get to her, you will have to deal with me.”

The demon laughed again.

“You? And what will you do to me, human? You have some power, but nothing that can harm me. You cannot kill me, you cannot hurt me, why ever would I be afraid of you?”

Rupert took another step forward, his eyes hard, his gaze never wavering.

“If you go after the Slayer, I will banish you to the Nether Kingdoms.”

“You don’t even have the power to do that,” the demon scoffed. “No human can send me away.”

Giles moved forward again, stopping a few feet from the demon. He said two words.

“Sochar bais.”

“You would not!” the demon growled, its eyes now a deeper shade of red.

“I would,” Giles replied. “I would do anything to protect my Slayer.” The demon watched him, assessing his intent and Giles stared back, his fear behind him now. “If you agree to leave Buffy and any other Slayers who might come to my care alone, I will let you go. If you do not, I will perform the Sasamh Fein Iobairt and banish you to the underworld forever.”

The demon’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t believe you human.”

“That is a grave mistake,” Giles answered.

He pulled a long ceremonial knife from his coat pocket.

“Faoi choinne diuthchara.” His voice was strong and steady as he placed the sharp edge of the knife against his throat. He stared at the demon. “Feidmigh sin ceangail.”

“Giles?” Xander’s voice cracked and Rupert could feel his panic from there. “What are you doing?”

“Saving Buffy.” He began to draw the knife across his throat, gasping at the sharp sting.

“No!” The demon and Xander yelled at the same time.

Giles stopped, looking at the creature.

“Do we have a deal?”

“We have a deal,” it rasped. “But this agreement only lasts as long as you are Watcher.”

“Understand that I will enforce this,” Giles said, returning the knife to his pocket. “If you harm the Slayer or any of my charges, I will banish you. You cannot run and I will find you.”

“You must uphold your side,” the creature growled.

“I will. We will leave you in peace.”

The creature nodded and Rupert returned it, his answering nod short and crisp. He clapped his hands and the flames leapt up again, turning violet. When they died down, the glow of the circle was gone. Without another word the demon turned and stalked off into the night.

“What just happened here?” Xander asked, jumping off the log and running up to Giles.

“We made a deal,” Rupert replied, stooping to place spell ingredients in his bag. “The demon will leave Buffy alone.”

“But how did you do that?” Xander asked, frowning. “How do you know it will hold up its side of the deal? And why didn’t it just kill you?”

Giles sighed. He was exhausted and the slight cut on his neck was oozing just enough blood to be sticky and sting. All he wanted to do was to go home, take a long, hot shower, and go to bed. But Xander had stuck with him. And having that moral support had actually made a difference, had made Giles stronger. He bent, tossing sand onto the fire to put it out.

“It agreed to leave her alone so that I wouldn’t banish it. It didn’t kill me because I trapped it with an ancient Celtic spell.”

Xander squatted down, also pitching sand onto the dying flames. He looked over at Giles.

“But what was with the knife?”

“That’s how I was going to banish him.”

“With your magic knife?”

Giles turned and looked at Xander. The boy deserved to hear the truth.

“Xander, he is a pure demon. I don’t have the power to banish him. Not even with magic.”

“So how…”

“This was a deeper magic, older,” Giles cut him off. “And for something like that to work, there have to be certain…sacrifices.”

“I don’t understand.” Xander was frowning at him.

“For the powers that be to grant my appeal and banish the monster, I would have to perform the Sochar Bais. It literally means ‘death agreement’. I would have given them my soul to grant my petition.”

Xander stared, his eyes wide.

“You were going to kill yourself?”

“It was the only way. The powers would have accepted that and banished the demon to a hell dimension for eternity. Buffy would have been safe.”

“But…but…” Xander’s voice faltered and he simply looked at Giles, his expression troubled.

“Xander, it’s my job to keep her safe.”

“But not to die for her. The Council isn’t paying you to sacrifice yourself for her.”

“No, they aren’t.” Giles stood and looked about the clearing, making sure they had cleaned up all evidence they had been there. Now he turned to Xander. “I would have done it out of love, not duty.”

Xander pursed his lips, frowning.

“Love?”

“Buffy, indeed, all of you, mean a great deal to me, Xander. You ceased being an obligation long ago.” He looked at the boy, seeing that he was still bothered. “You asked me if I could ever write of Buffy’s death and I told you that I couldn’t. I meant that. I never want to have to detail her demise. Or yours for that matter. I don’t think I could bear it.”

Xander nodded, wordlessly following Giles as he left the clearing. They walked silently through the trees, heading back to where Giles had parked his car.

“Giles? What happens when you die?”

“I’m sorry?”

“With this agreement. If you die then Buffy is back in danger, isn’t she?”

“Well, yes, she would be.” He turned to look at Xander. “I suppose I should be more careful now.”

“You really should,” Xander agreed. “And not just for that reason. Giles? Could you teach me?”

“Teach you?”

“How to…I don’t know.” Xander frowned at him. “I…if something happens to you, I want to be able to keep her safe too. Can you teach me?”

“You anticipate my death?” Giles smiled at the boy.

“Well, no, but this was a huge thing you just did and I don’t want it to be for nothing if you die. Can you teach me?”

“I can try.”

Xander nodded and the two men walked off into the dark night.

******************************

“Wait, so you were going to kill yourself to protect me?”

Buffy was staring up at Giles, her eyes wide and shocked. He smiled down at her, gently touching her face.

“It was the only way.”

“But…Giles, how come you never told me any of this?”

“It never came up and you didn’t need to know.” She opened her mouth to argue and he continued. “As the Slayer, you have the weight of your destiny on you every day. I did not wish to add to it with something that has already been settled.”

She nodded, but still looked troubled. Before he could reassure her any further, Dawn interrupted.

“I don’t get it.”

“What is it that you don’t get?” Giles asked, looking over at her.

“You were going to kill yourself to send the demon away.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, so, like Xander said, if you die, we are all completely screwed?”

“You weren’t listening to the end, Dawn,” Giles said with a smile. “You needn’t worry. We have it under control.”

Dawn looked at Xander, who was sitting next to her on the couch.

“You mean you really did teach him how to do that spell?” Dawn asked, her eyes wide.

“He’s not exactly a Watcher,” Giles said, looking at Xander as he spoke. “But I think he has more than exceeded my expectations. If something happens to me, I know you will all be safe.”

Xander looked up at him, his good eye wide with surprise. Giles smiled at him and nodded and Xander looked at the floor. Giles suspected he didn’t want any of them to see the tears in his eye.

“Hey, I have a question,” Buffy interjected, gently touching Rupert’s knee.

“Yes?”

“Well, you said I was safe as long as you were the Watcher. But you haven’t been my Watcher for years.”

“Buffy, Watcher is a destiny, a sacred calling, not a career path. The Council thought that they could take control and circumvent what was meant to be. Watcher is a calling for life and they didn’t have the authority to fire me.”

“But what about Wes?” Xander asked.

“Wesley never truly was a Watcher. He was called by the Council as retribution on Buffy and me for our rebelliousness. There are protocols, spells that need to be done to make this calling official. They skipped over them with Wes.”

“So you were always my Watcher?” Buffy asked quietly.

“I still am. Why do you think I stayed on when Wes came? As long as you don’t send me away, I will always be your Watcher. The rest is just paperwork.”

“And that demon? As long as you and Xander stay on, we are safe?” Vi asked.

“We will make sure you are always cared for,” Giles replied, his tone reassuring. Xander nodded in agreement from his place beside Dawn.

“Guess it’s a good thing Mr. Giles is head of the Council now,” Rona said with a smile. “And that Xander is…what exactly are you?”

“He is as close to an assistant head as we have,” Giles answered.

“Cool,” Rona said, grinning at Xander. “So now I know who to take my complaints to when our Council head is busy.”

“And as head of the Council I’m sending all of you off to bed.” Giles interrupted. “Tomorrow may be a slow day, but I still want you rested.”

There were grumbles and even a few feeble protests, but finally everyone began to make their way upstairs. After they were gone, Giles went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He knew she’d come into the kitchen before he heard her. In fact, he’d been expecting it.

“What can I do for you, Buffy?” he asked, turning to face her.

“How’d you know I was here?”

“I was the one who trained you how to listen, remember?” He smiled at her. “What’s bothering you, Buffy?”

“It’s just…why didn’t you ever tell me that you were going to die for me?”

“It’s not the first time, Buffy. I was going to take your place with the Master. I was going to let Angel kill me, just to keep you safe. And I would have taken your place on that tower if I had only had the chance.”

Buffy looked at him, her eyes filling with tears.

“Why?” Her voice was just above a whisper. “With everything I’ve done to you, all the ways I’ve hurt you. Why would you ever give up your life for me?”

“Buffy, I gave up my life for you the day I was called as your Watcher and I’ve never regretted it.” He walked across the kitchen to her, gently wiping the tears from her face. “Wrong was done from both directions. I never should have committed that travesty on your eighteenth birthday and I shouldn’t have gone behind your back about Spike. But just because I don’t agree with you, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“But everything…Giles, I’ve been so mean to you.”

“You’ve been acting out of anger. I understand that. Buffy, this is what family does.” He reached out and took her hand. “We make mistakes. We yell, we storm, we hurt each other. But when everything is against us, we stand together, no matter what. And none of that takes away from the love that binds us together.”

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said, looking up into his eyes. “I’m sorry for ignoring you for Riley. I’m sorry about choosing Angel over you. I’m sorry that you were hurt so badly because of it. I’m sorry that I wouldn’t listen about Spike. And I’m sorry that I’ve been punishing you ever since.”

“And I am sorry for all that I did.” He slipped an arm around her waist, lightly hugging her.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying with me. For protecting me. For teaching me. For…for being willing to die for me.”

“It’s what family does, Buffy. I may fuss at you, but I will always love you.”

Her eyes went wide and she looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

“I love you too. I never tell you that, but I do.”

“I know,” he said simply.

She slipped her arm around his waist and hugged him back, resting her head on his shoulder.

“So where do we go from here?” she asked.

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“Well, we’ve apologized and thanked each other. Now what?”

He smiled down at her.

“Now we go on as we always do. We train these girls and we fight evil. And we will do it together.”

“Together.” Her voice was quiet, as if she were trying the thought out. “Together forever?”

“Forever and always,” Giles replied, pulling her close. “You are not alone, Buffy. You never were and you never will be. I never really left you. You just needed to realize that.”

He felt her stifle a yawn against his shoulder.

“Now, up to bed, young lady.”

“Is that an order?” she asked, a smile playing around her lips.

“More along the lines of me worrying that you don’t get enough sleep.”

She nodded at him and turned, wrapping her arms around him. He hugged her back, reveling in knowing that she was there, that she was his family and that she finally understood that he had been hers all along. She stirred in his embrace and he let her go.

She stopped at the door on her way out, turning to face him.

“Goodnight, Giles.”

“Sleep well, Buffy.”

“You too.” She turned away, then stopped, her back to him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Buffy.”

And then she was gone and he was left in the kitchen with his water. But he wasn’t really alone. He had his family, and no matter where he was, or who was with him, he would never be alone again.

The End

Sochar Bais - Part 1 - Rupert Gen Story (FRT)

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 15:16:57 GMT

I put this story up for Summer of Giles and now I'm finally getting around to putting it here. It's a story that I started writing for the Spook Me ficathon at Halloween and just got finished with in June. Ooops. :)

A huge, huge, HUGE thank you goes out to Seldomifever, Deadlymistress, and Froxyn for their VERY last minute beta jobs. (I dropped this on them 3 hours before I needed it and they totally came through for me! You three ROCK!)

Title: Sochar Bais
Author: Laura Sichrovsky
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG or FRT
Pairing: None Really. A Buffy/Rupert/Xander friendship story
Warnings: None that I can think of.
Season: Set in season eight, after the Slayers have moved to Scotland.
Word Count: 7400

Summary:   Why is it that the bad things never come out on Halloween? Rupert has always said they hate the commercialism, but there's a lot more to the story here.

Spoilers:   None.

Disclaimer: This is where I put the statement saying that I do not own Buffy, Giles (Heh! I wish!), Sunnydale, or anything relating
                     to the show. No one is paying me to do this and if you feel the sudden urge to send me gifts, you might want to talk
                     to someone about that. Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy and has not given me permission to use these characters
                     as I have so if you have problems with the story, please send the pretzel bombs to me, not him.

Author’s Notes: Thanks need to be given, and here is where they go. Thanks to Joss for creating characters so fun to watch and to borrow
                for a bit. Thanks to Tony Head for making Giles so amazing. I tried to fight it, but he was just too remarkable not to fall for. Big
                thanks to Seldomifever and Froxyn for the extreme last minute betas. I owe you guys HUGE!!! To Ann for the beta job and everything
                else. You are the other half of me, my long lost sister and I love you, dear! Thanks to my amazing husband who not only doesn’t get
                upset when my writing takes over, and who doesn’t freak about the men who live in my head. I love him so.

Sochar Bais

Firelight flickered, casting shadows about the dark room. Rupert Giles leaned forward, gently shifting the logs with the fireplace poker, stepping back as the flames briefly flared before settling into a warm, steady blaze. He leaned the poker against the wall and returned to his seat in a comfortable over-stuffed chair.

“Where did you learn to do that?” Xander asked from his place on the couch. “Every time I try to light a fire it just goes out.”

“It comes from years of living in colder climates,” Giles replied with a smile. “You learn to build a fire or freeze. Give it time, I’m sure you’ll learn.”

“But will he learn before we all ice over?” Dawn asked, walking into the room. She was followed by a steady stream of Slayers, all of them finding places about the room to sit. “I hear winters in Scotland are really cold.”

“Hey, I’m sitting right here.” Xander protested, scooting over on the couch to make more room for the girls.

“I’m just saying.” Dawn replied with a grin, practically sitting in Xander’s lap. He made a face at her, moving over as far as the couch would allow.

“Xander will learn in time,” Giles replied calmly. “And until then, I’m here. Is training over for the day?”

“Finally,” Rona sighed, lying on the floor in front of the fire. “Buffy had us doing extra combat moves for an hour or so.”

“That’s because you were all too sloppy,” Buffy replied, walking into the room, pausing only long enough to pick her spot before she crossed to sit on the floor in front of Giles. “If you fight demons like that, you are all dead.”

“That’s cheerful,” Rona murmured.

“It’s not supposed to be cheerful,” Buffy shot back, her voice heavy with frustration. “But it is the truth and if an extra sixty minutes of practice keeps you alive, then it’s worth it.”

“Buffy, calm down,” Giles said soothingly, cutting off her rant. He leaned forward, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Your workout is over.”

He blinked when she sighed and scooted back. She lay back against his legs for a second, then without any warning, she pushed back further until she was against the chair, his legs on either side of her. She rested her head against his right thigh and he had to force himself to relax. It had been a while since she had been so comfortable around him.

“I know,” Buffy replied, snuggling against him. “I also know that tomorrow is going to be slow. I just worry.”

“Why is tomorrow going to be slow?” Vi asked, inching closer to the fire.

“Because it’s Halloween,” Xander answered quietly.

“Oh come on,” Rona said, turning to look at him. “There isn’t really anything to that, is there?”

“Yeah, there really is,” Xander replied. “The big bads won’t come out on Halloween.”

“Giles says it’s something about the commercialism,” Buffy added. She turned to look up at him. “You know, that never really made sense to me. Why would demons care about how commercial it is?”

“Well, it’s just…” Giles paused, looking down at her. He’d never been very good at lying to her and he wondered why he’d kept this one up for so long. “I…well…”

“Giles?” Buffy was frowning at him. “What gives?”

He sighed, leaning forward a bit and looking into her eyes.

“I haven’t been entirely honest about that,” he said quietly. He winced when he saw pain flicker in her eyes and she pulled away a bit. “Buffy, please, let me explain.”

“Okay, explain.” The cold tone of her voice cut though him.

“I am sorry. That first year when you asked, I knew you weren’t really interested in the answer. And you already had so much against you, I didn’t want to make things harder.” He reached out again, putting his hand on her shoulder. “And as these things will do, once I’d told you a lie, I couldn’t take it back. I didn’t see the point to worrying you unnecessarily.”

“Are you saying there’s something to worry about?” Dawn asked, scooting closer to Xander.

When he didn’t reply, Buffy turned around completely, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Giles?”

“It’s not something you have to worry about, per say,” he replied quietly.

“Okay, so why do the bad guys stay in on Halloween?” Dawn asked.

“The Boogeyman,” Giles replied simply.

“I’m sorry, the what?” Buffy asked with a frown.

“The Boogeyman,” Giles repeated.

“You mean that imaginary guy who hides under kids’ beds and makes noises in the dark?”

“No, that would be a Quathar demon and I assure you, they aren’t imaginary. And they don’t live under beds. They live in closets so they can eat the clothes. Scaring people is just a hobby.”

“I knew I didn’t misplace my favorite blue blouse!” Dawn exclaimed. Everyone looked at her and she blushed. “Well, I didn’t.”

“It very likely could have been a Quathar,” Giles nodded. “Xander and I will look into it on Monday.”

“Okay, clothes eating demons aside,” Buffy interrupted. “The Boogeyman?”

“Well, he’s the demons’ demon,” Giles replied. “He’s the thing the dark ones fear.”

“And we don’t worry about him why?” Buffy asked with a frown. “I mean if he’s that bad, shouldn’t we be hunting him down?”

“He’s harmless to humans, Buffy,” Giles answered.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this,” Buffy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Giles noticed her anger seemed to have ebbed and she moved closer to him again. He smiled, his fingers unconsciously stroking her hair as he slipped into lecture mode.

“You’ll remember that this world is very old,” he began, his accent slightly more pronounced.

“Older than you know,” Xander said, grinning.

“And demons walked the earth well before there was man,” Buffy added, smiling up at Giles. “And there was one girl in all the world.”

“Do you wish me to finish or would you rather just make fun of me?” Giles asked. He tried to look stern, but Buffy’s smile robbed him of his indignation.

“We can make fun of you tomorrow,” Buffy said, trying not to laugh. “For now, lecture away.”

Giles shook his head and sighed, trying his best to look wounded as he continued.

“Fine then. The Boogeymen are some of the oldest demons. They’ve been in this world since before man walked the land. And they were at the top of the food chain, as it were, hunting and killing other demons.”

“What does that have to do with Halloween?” Rona interrupted.

“After men came and the demons went into hiding, the Boogeymen began to die off. Their prey was scarce and they took to hunting each other. In the end there was only one left. And he adapted to this new world by hibernating. He only comes out two nights a year, killing demons and feeding on them.”

“Halloween?” Buffy asked, her eyes wide.

Giles nodded.

“And the night before. On those nights, he walks the world hunting for enough food to keep him alive another year.”

“And he doesn’t eat humans?”

“I understand he doesn’t like the taste. Besides, humans are animals. He would never deign to notice them, let alone eat them.”

“Why Halloween?” Vi asked with a frown. “If the demons know he’s out then and hide, wouldn’t a different day be better?”

“Yes, but the humans would notice him. He may not want to deal with them, but although we can’t kill him, we can hurt him. So, he just tends to avoid us. And at that time of year, most cultures celebrate Halloween by…”

“Dressing up!” Vi interrupted. “So we’d just think he’s another trick or treater!”

“Exactly,” Giles said with a smile. “And he can hunt with impunity. It’s the same reason that the term ‘boogeyman’ has come to mean an imaginary monster. No one ever sees him and likely they never will.”

“So he’s really a good guy?” Rona asked.

“Oh no, don’t get that idea,” Giles answered. “He’s a demon, a pure demon. And he doesn’t like humans any more than the rest. At this point in time he has no reason to harm mortals, but that could change.”

“So why don’t we kill him?” Dawn said.

“Because we are already fighting too many other things,” Buffy answered, frowning. “Hey Giles, this thing hunts vampires too, right?”

“It does. Anything with demon in it.”

“But wouldn’t that include us?”

“You lost me there, Buff,” Dawn said.

“Well, not you, but me and the other Slayers. We’re part demon, aren’t we?”

“You have demon essence,” Giles corrected. “That is markedly different.”

“So he wouldn’t eat us?”

“I didn’t say that,” Giles replied quietly.

“So he would eat a Slayer.”

“He has in the past.”

“Giles!” Buffy was staring at him, her face a study in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“It wasn’t necessary,” Giles said soothingly. “It’s true that he’s killed Slayers in the past, but he’s not coming after you.”

“How do you know this?” She was shaking a bit and he went back to stroking her hair to calm her down. “I mean, how do you know he won’t just show up here tomorrow and kill us all?”

“Because he would be breaking our agreement and I would banish him to a Hell dimension for the rest of his sorry existence.” He said it calmly, but his word choice spoke volumes as to his agitation. Buffy arched an eyebrow at him.

“Your agreement?”

He looked at her, knowing he should have told her years ago. But he hadn’t wanted to give her anything else to worry over and so he had kept it to himself. Now it seemed rather unnecessary to say anything, but he knew Buffy and she wouldn’t let this go until her curiosity had been satisfied.

“It was the Halloween of your senior year,” He said quietly. “You already had so much to worry about. You had just recently come back to Sunnydale and we were still fighting with Principal Snyder about your status in regards to school. I had been doing studies on this demon’s attack pattern and by my calculations it was due to be in our part of the world. I didn’t want it sneaking up on you and I didn’t feel you were emotionally ready to handle having this information.”

“So you went after it alone?” Buffy asked, her hand going to his knee.

“Not exactly,” He replied. “I didn’t precisely hunt it and I wasn’t alone.”

“Tell us?” Buffy asked.

“Oh, storytime!” Dawn said, settling closer to Xander.

Perhaps it was time they all knew the truth. Giles sighed, leaning back in the chair and looking past Buffy into the firelight.

******************************************
October, 1998

Rupert Giles could feel the beginnings of a headache. He blinked, focusing on the page he was reading, blocking out the library around him. He’d spent weeks collecting this information. Why wasn’t it making sense? Perhaps he was just looking at it wrong. Yes, if he moved the Romanian incident back three years, then…

“I just finished putting the last one up,” a voice said, interrupting Giles’s concentration.

He looked up from his book with a frown, staring at the slight girl with the long black hair. When he didn’t say anything, she fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other and looking at the floor.

“Um, I put it on the window glass. I hope that’s okay.”

He blinked, looking behind her at the round windows in the library doors. One had a black cat right in the middle, the other a smiling jack o lantern. His frown deepened as he looked around the library at the tacky paper Halloween decorations the girl had put up. Given his choice he wouldn’t have put up anything at all, but the student council had taken it upon itself to make the school festive and so Giles had no choice but to let the girl decorate.

He looked at the girl, noticing that she was biting her lower lip and he realized that he must have been looking too stern again. He took a deep breath, relaxing his expression.

“The window was a good choice. You’ve done a fine job. The library looks very…decorative.” He knew the praise sounded hollow, but the girl seemed pleased to hear it.

“Well, then I’ll be going now. Um…Happy Halloween.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes and Rupert couldn’t help but hear the relief in her voice.

Before he could respond, she was gone. Not that he minded. Her puttering about had disturbed his studying. He shook his head and turned back to the book. After a minute he picked up a pen and began writing calculations in his notebook.

“And so if that cycle holds…but there is the Canadian aberration to consider…”

“Talking to yourself again, G-man?”

Giles jumped in his chair, looking up to see Xander smiling at him. Now how had the boy gotten in without him noticing?

“Wow, Watcher observation skills on the fritz?”

“I was merely concentrating.”

“What’s so interesting that you didn’t hear me stomp in? Oh, is it some kind of demon porn?”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” Giles replied indignantly, glaring at the boy.

Before Giles could stop him Xander reached over, pulling the book across the table. As Giles reached for it, Xander picked it up, his brow furrowing as he read.

“Xander, please give me the book back. I’ve research to finish.” He once more reached for the book, but Xander stepped back, looking up at him.

“What is this?”

“It’s one of the Watcher diaries. I really do need…”

“Giles, it’s about a Slayer being killed.”

“Yes, I know,” Giles replied gently.

“How can you read this?” Xander was frowning. “The creature proceeded to gut her? God, how could the Watcher write this? Is this the kind of stuff you write?”

“Of course not,” Giles answered.

“But you would if Buffy died, wouldn’t you?”

“It would be my job.” Giles heard his voice catch and he looked away.

“Could you do it?” Xander’s voice was just above a whisper. “Could you write the details of how she died?”

Giles was quiet for a minute, weighing out how he should answer. He swallowed hard and looked at Xander.

“Honestly? I don’t think I could.”

Xander nodded and looked back down at the book.

“Why didn’t he help her?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The Watcher. He just…well, watched. Why didn’t he pull out his crossbow or sword and go after the thing?”

“Despite our training, most Watchers serve in an…instructive capacity.”

“Are you telling me these Watchers can’t fight?”

“I’m telling you that they don’t fight. Now may I please have the book back?”

“So they just send their Slayers out and then watch them die?” Xander asked, ignoring Giles’s question.

“They teach them, they train them, and that is really the extent of the job.”

“But not yours.” Xander looked at Giles, his expression serious. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

“I care about all of you,” Giles said, looking at his hands. “And I really do have research to do.”

Xander nodded and handed him the book, sitting across the table from him.

“So what is that thing? And why are you researching it?”

“It’s the Boogeyman,” Giles said absently, concentrating on finding his place in the narrative.

“Hey, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“What?” Giles looked up, fighting his irritation at being interrupted again.

“You can say you don’t want to tell me. You don’t need to make something up.” Xander looked hurt and Giles was confused.

“I did tell you. It’s the Boogeyman.”

“Oh come on, Giles. And he works with his partners Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy?”

Giles blinked, looking at the boy in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Everyone knows the Boogeyman is just something your parents tell you will eat you, just to get you to clean your room and come in before dark.”

Giles arched an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, so maybe not everyone’s parents.” Xander shrugged. “But that’s not the point. Anyone over the age of ten knows there’s no such thing as the Boogeyman.”

“Just as there are no such things as vampires?” Giles asked pointedly.

Xander looked at him, studying his face for any sign he was joking.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Giles replied with a nod.

“And this thing is a danger to Buffy?”

“It…well, we can’t jump to conclusions as to how much danger Buffy could be in.”

Xander reached across the table, tapping on the book.

“I’m calling this big danger,” he said quietly.

Giles sighed.

“Yes, I would have to agree,” he answered, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Hey Giles, why do you think it’s coming after Buffy?”

Giles looked at Xander, wondering how much of this burden he could share. It was wearing him out, robbing him of sleep. But in the end, his sense of responsibility won out and he shrugged.

“It’s nothing really. Just something I read and thought I should look into.”

Xander reached across the table again, but this time he pulled the notebook over, looking at the pages of even, deliberate writing.

“Nothing, huh?” Xander looked up at him. “You seem to have an awful lot of nothing here.”

“Xander, please,” Giles sighed, knowing this argument was going to get him nowhere.

Xander turned a page, frowning.

“Is this a timeline?”

“Well, it’s…” Giles trailed off, not sure how to continue.

Xander looked up at him, his eyes wide.

“You’re tracking this thing. That’s how you know it’s coming here. Giles, this information goes back like five hundred years. How much work did you put into it?”

Giles merely shrugged at the boy, secretly pleased that someone noticed all the time he’d devoted to this project.

“You know, I think you’re right,” Xander said, looking up from the notebook. “It looks like this demon will be visiting the Hellmouth for Halloween. So, what do we do now?”

“We do nothing,” Giles replied, reaching over and reclaiming his notebook. “I will take care of this.”

“Oh, you are so not cutting me out of this!” Xander exclaimed, looking angry. “If I can patrol and fight vampires, I can do this. I care about her too, you know.”

Giles sighed.

“This isn’t a vampire. It’s a pure demon and I’m not putting you in danger.”

“Fine,” Xander said, standing up and collecting his books. “I’ll just see what Buffy has to say about this.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Giles said, rising to block the boy’s exit. “She has enough on her mind without this.”

“Which is why she needs her Watcher in one piece. I can’t let you fight this thing on your own.”

Giles looked at him, weighing out the options. He didn’t want Buffy finding out, so it seemed he had no choice. He ignored the part of him that was breathing a sigh of relief that he wasn’t in this alone anymore.

“You will do exactly as I say,” he said sternly to Xander. “You will take no unnecessary risks and you will not argue. Are we agreed?”

“Whatever you say, G-man.”

“And you will stop calling me that.”

Xander just grinned at him as he dropped his bookbag and sat down again.

“So, what do we do now?”

Giles shook his head as he passed Xander a book. He was having second, third, even fifth thoughts about this. But it seemed he didn’t have a choice.

“Well, let’s start with a little background,” Giles said. “This earth is older than you know.”

To be continued...
Part two here

Another Meme

Thu, 02 Apr 2009 21:24:53 GMT

I *really* need to stop perusing Froxyn's page. She gets the most interesting memes and I always want to do them. Here is her latest.

It's a shag/marry/cliff meme. The rules are simple.She gave me three names (they can be real people, fictional people, or a combination)...and I say who I'd shag, who I'd marry, and who I'd throw off a cliff. She gave me three from the Buffyverse. My choices were:

Giles, Wesley, and Angel.

Shag:

For this I would totally go with Wes. He was geek boy his season on Buffy, but I like my guys somewhat geeky. I would have totally done him in the stacks in the library, even then. (He's a fast learner. I know he would have gotten good at it.) But after he went to work for Angel and became scruffy hot demon killer guy? Oh, yes, totally shaggable! (There was just something about him that made me want to fog up his glasses, even on Buffy. And after he moved to Angel I wondered what it would take to make him moan.) And can I say, lately I've been having big fantasies of being between Wes and Rupert? So, yeah, my shaggage choice is Wes.

Marry:

Hands down, Rupert. He is so amazing in every way. He's brilliant and funny and sweet and shy, yet a total sex god. He's a gentleman and a hero. (I mean, he had dreams and ambitions and then he learns of his destiny and he gives them all up. Okay, he made a bid for freedom, but who wouldn't when they were staring down a lifetime sentence of researching in a windowless room? (I don't think anyone thought he would ever actually get a Slayer. So what did that leave him? Working for the Council as book guy, day in, day out. I'd run too.) And then he comes back. He wanted a life, but when the fate of the world was on the line, he gave it all up to do what was best for everyone else. Isn't that a hero?) I want to give him the life he deserves now. I want to have a home with him and children and cuddle him and love him and show him how amazing he is. (And that includes the mind blowing shaggage you know would be involved.) I want to be the one who holds him when he's tired and scared and I want to be the one to make him see that he isn't very very old and that it's so far from gross.

Okay, that was a total dissertation. Sorry. So, to marry, I want Rupert.

Cliff:

Is it wrong for me to hold a grudge? I'm sure Angel is nice enough, but he's the guy who tortured Rupert and I have a hard time seeing past that. "But sadly, I must remind you that Angel tortured me... for hours... for pleasure." The look on Rupert's face gets me every time. And Angel uses way too much hair gel for my taste. I'm sure he's a good guy, but he never lit my fire.

So, sorry, but I've got to cliff the broody vampire.

Okay, if you stuck with me through my nattering, hugs to you. :)

Now I think you reply to this and I pick three guys for you, real or characters.

A Meme

Sat, 21 Mar 2009 07:18:41 GMT

I know it's not fiction, but I did answer it on Froxyn's LJ page, so I'll put it here. I think you answer this thing in the comments. (Can you tell I never do Memes?)

BASICS
001. Name:
002. Birthday:
003. Place of residence:
004. What makes you happy:
005. What are you listening to now/have listened to last:
006. Do you read my LJ:
007. If you do, what is particularly good/bad about it:
008. An interesting fact about you:
009. Are you in love/have a crush at the moment:
010. Favourite place to be:
011. Favourite lyric:
012. Best time of the year:
013. Any pets?

RECOMMEND
001. A film:
002. A book:
003. A band, a song and an album:
004. A LJ friend you think I'd get along with:

PLUS
001. One thing you like about me:
002. Two things you like about yourself:
003. A picture of yourself! (optional, of course):
004. Put this in your LJ so I can tell you what I think of you.

Another of Those Pesky Buffy/Giles Vids

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 23:38:48 GMT

You have no idea what I had to go through to get this up! Youtube punted it within the first 3 minutes it was up because of two separate violations. Filefront is way behind because everyone is fleeing Youtube. It took about two hours to find a place to get this up. It should also be noted that I have yet another new program and I have no idea what I'm doing with it. Any inconsistencies and problems likely stem from that.

Anywhom, I heard this song the other day while I was out and I could see Rupert as the man who fights for her, so here it is. Buffy and Giles, the Glory of Love. (And is there anyone who can watch him being her hero and not go all NNNGGHH?)

12 Days is Back!

Fri, 12 Dec 2008 18:18:55 GMT

Rupert sighed, looking at the boxes stacked in front of him. He had gone to his attic to bring down his Christmas decorations, but after digging back to them he was not only tired, but dispirited.

Really, why was he doing this? Everyone else had been so busy that he hadn't seen them in weeks.

Oh, he knew they were busy setting up "Slayer Central", as Xander called it. He tried not to be hurt that he wasn't helping. But Buffy had been firm on that point, stressing that he'd given up enough for them and should now proceed to have a life of his own. Rupert snorted as he looked around his attic. Oh yes, quite the life he had here.

He just about jumped out of his skin when he heard voices behind him. He whipped around, automatically going into battle stance and his eyes went wide with surprise.

"Laura and Ann, how nice to see you," he said, blinking.

"We didn't mean to startle you," Ann said with a smile.

"You didn't," Rupert replied. Seeing their raised eyebrows, he laughed. "Well, not much. What can I do for you today?"

He gestured to the door and the women followed him down the stairs and into his sitting room.

"Actually, we are here to give you your Christmas present." Laura said, smiling at him as she sat on the couch across from Ann.

"Two weeks before Christmas?" Rupert asked, settling in between the women. "I hope this doesn't mean I won't be seeing you for that long."

"Oh, like that's going to happen," Ann answered, putting a hand on his knee.

"We enjoy your company far too much for that," Laura added.

"You don't know how much I appreciate that," Rupert said, looking at his hands. "Not many people take the time anymore and I do enjoy company."

"Well, get used to it," Ann said with a laugh. "Your present this year is the same as last year."

“Really?” Rupert asked, a slight smile on his lips. "12 Days again?"

"Well, go look," Laura laughed.

He rose and went to his computer. The fact that he had a computer still surprised him. But, there had been times it had come in handy. He connected to the internet and looked at the paper taped to his monitor with important web addresses on it. Hmmm, 12 Days was... Ah. http://community.livejournal.com/12daysof_rupert/ He went to the site, then looked up with a smile.

“Have I mentioned that I really like this Christmas present?” he asked.

“Not this year,” Ann replied, standing up and walking behind him. “But we know. And I'm glad. Who deserves it more? Twelve days of constant attention. Pictures, stories, and icons. And if anyone else posts, there is no telling what we'll have. All for you.”

“Just check in every day between the 13th and the 24th and see what we have for that day.” Laura said, joining them and standing on the other side of Rupert.

“I can't believe you did this just for me.”

“For you and all the wonderfully supportive people in our online groups.”

“Thank you,” Rupert said, reaching out and taking their hands. “What can I give you to equal this?”

“Oh, we'll think of something,” Ann replied with a smile.

“Shall we discuss it over tea?” Rupert asked with a big grin on his face. His day was looking up. Heck, his year was looking better. He had two beautiful women spending time with him and he was going to have company for the holidays this year. Mostly, he wasn't going to be alone.

----------------------------------------------
Yes, the odd stories are back. (g) This is my admittedly off-beat way of letting you know that while I have been AWOL lately, Ann and I are going to give you your annual Christmas present.

What did we get you last year? You mean you don't remember? (grin) Well, I'll give you a hint. It's not returnable. :) For your pre-Christmas pleasure, we present, the 12 Days of Rupert. I know, now you are looking at me with the raised eye brows, questioning my sanity look.

What are the 12 days of Rupert? Well, go here: http://community.livejournal.com/12daysof_rupert/ . You can go over last years presents and keep an eye on it because every day between the 13th and the 24th, Ann and I will put up something Rupert related, such as icons, stories, or whatnot. It's our Christmas gift to you and Rupert.

Now, if you want to give us a gift in return, feel free to post something to the comm yourself. You can put up anything Rupert related. Do you have a story or a fan video you want to share? Please do! Spread the Rupert holiday love!

So, please check into the comm every day starting on the 13th and see what present we've left for you. Share Christmas with the Watcher and have a great holiday season!

Ann and Laura

New Page!!

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 09:41:13 GMT

Hey all. Due to some difficulties I was having, I'm moving pages. This one will still be here, but I won't be adding new stories to it. To find my new page, you are going to have to go to the library annex, here: The Library Girl's Fiction Archive, Page 2!

You can still read all these, and feel free to comment on them, but to read any new writing, you'll have to go to the new building. :)

Hope to see you there!!

:::Hugs:::
Laura

Fic: In The Dark of the Night (Rupert/Willow - FRM)

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 17:07:36 GMT

And here is my other Summer of Giles entry. :)

Title: In The Dark of The Night
Author’s Name: Laura Sichrovsky (E-Mail: Laurtew@Yahoo.com)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Rupert/Willow
Warnings: None really.
Season: After the series ends, so maybe a non-comic book season eight?

Summary: Rupert seldom dreams anymore. So a vivid nightmare bothers him a bit. Especially as it came from a wish he made.

Spoilers: Some mention of seasons one and two and six.

Disclaimer: This is where I put the statement saying that I do not own Buffy, Giles (Heh! I wish!), Sunnydale, or anything relating
                     to the show. No one is paying me to do this and if you feel the sudden urge to send me gifts, you might want to talk
                     to someone about that. Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy and has not given me permission to use these characters
                     as I have so if you have problems with the story, please send the pretzel bombs to me, not him.

Author's Notes: Thanks need to be given, and here is where they go. Thanks to Joss for creating characters so fun to watch and
                            to borrow for a bit. Thanks to Tony Head for making Giles so amazing. I tried to fight it, but he was just too
                            remarkable not to fall for. Big thank yous to my other half and best friend Ann for all the love and support. I
                            could never write without her help and I would never want to try. Thank you to my wonderful betas, Michelle,
                            Jess, and Jen for helping me put this is readable form.

In The Dark of The Night

The night air was cold, a slight breeze caressing his skin. Rupert looked up into the sky. On any other night, he would have been at least slightly awed by the countless stars that dimly lit the darkness as he walked across the Slayer compound. Tonight he barely noticed. He looked around the little village they had built within the walls of the castle, houses for Watchers and Slayers who did not wish to live in the main fortification, outbuildings and an exercise yard. They had come to the middle of nowhere, refugees from a war no one should have had to fight, and now they struggled to build a brave new world. He shoved his hands into his pockets and picked up his pace, approaching one little house set apart from the others.

He stood in front of the door, suddenly unsure of what to do. It was very late and the darkness within told him that she was asleep. Yet he couldn’t shake the empty, forbidding feeling that his dream had left him with. Normally, Rupert gave little credence to his dreams, shunting the darker ones upon waking. But tonight… He hadn’t felt this haunted since just after Xander had rescued him from the mansion; those long, empty nights when he would wake screaming into an unforgiving darkness, unsure where he was and what secrets he’d revealed.

He looked up again, his mind automatically finding constellations in the blackness, grounding himself in those pictures painted by the heavens. He drew in a deep breath, taking comfort in the fact that her house was here. He wasn’t used to being this unnerved by a dream. Most of his dreams these days weren’t this unsettling, this…real. He’d banished those dreams long ago. Perhaps it was all the worse because the dream had played on a wish he’d made. After so many years living on a Hellmouth, he should know better than wishing aloud. But this one had seemed harmless; beneficial really. Who knew that it could play out in such a dark and disturbing way.

And so he’d been tortured by his own mind, once again a victim of his endless guilt. When he’d woken, sitting up in his bed, his whole body trembling, a scream trapped in his throat, he’d gotten up and dressed without really thinking about where he was going. He’d needed to know that she was safe, that it had all been in his head. Now he stood, looking at her house in the moonlight, feeling exceedingly foolish. He pictured her face when he told her that he was sorry to wake her, but he had to be sure a vampire hadn’t gotten her when she was fifteen. He silently chuckled to himself and shook his head.

It was enough to pull him from his panic and with another sigh, he turned to go. He hadn’t even gotten a step when he heard the door open behind him.

“Giles? Is everything okay?”

He turned to face her, noticing how the moonlight robbed her hair of its fiery colour, making it seem almost as black as the night around her. She was pulling her robe closed and looking at him with some concern. He wanted to laugh, to tell her that there was nothing to be worried about, but he couldn’t take his attention from her. After seeing her features distorted into that of a demon, he needed to see her for what she really was, to drink in the soft beauty that was Willow.

Over the years he had known her, she had aged from awkward teen to a graceful woman and while he told himself that he could never notice her in that way, his gaze was drawn to the delicate curves of her body, the lushness of her cleavage, just visible beneath the opening of her robe. He took in the fine lines of her wrists and arms and the mature contours of her face. When he came to her eyes, deep green pools of pure emotion, such a contrast from the cold, yellow eyes of the vampire in his dream, he was pulled from his contemplation by the worry he saw there. He looked at the ground, ashamed of how blatantly he was studying her; more guilty that he was enjoying it so much. He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Giles?” Her voice was gentle, soft in the vastness of the night.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he murmured, stepping back, needing to put distance between himself and the emotions she was stirring in him.

“You didn’t, but…What’s wrong?”

He dared to look up at her, thrilling in her concern for him, yet berating himself for being so pleased. He shook his head, preparing to return to his rooms, but she stepped back in silent invitation. They had all learned their lessons from Sunnydale. None of them would verbally invite someone in, especially someone they cared for; it was too easy to be blinded by emotions. Rupert looked at her, wanting to accept, to take comfort in her presence, yet terrified she would see his weakness.

“I…I really should be going,” he said, looking away again. When he turned back, she was still standing, waiting for him to come in. He sighed, telling himself this was a mistake; he walked past her anyway.

The main room of the house was dim, but not dark, illuminated by candles. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed that the candles were on a table next to an overstuffed chair. A book was open draped over one arm of the chair to hold its place and he realized that she had been reading by the candlelight. No wonder the house had seemed dark to him.

Willow crossed around and stood next to the chair, looking at him. He wordlessly pointed to the book and she nodded, smiling.

“Just relaxing.”

“In the dark?” he asked quietly.

“It’s a habit I got from you, you know,” she replied, stepping closer to him. “I remember that when you were studying, you wanted the brightest light possible, like you were trying to chase away the shadows, reinforcing the seriousness of the situation. But when you read for fun, it was always by candlelight, as if you wanted to be as far away from the harsh glare of study as you could.”

“I didn’t think anyone had noticed that,” he said, unable to take his eyes from her.

“Oh, I did. I didn’t get it at the time, but I do now. It’s quiet, peaceful, away from the real world.”

“Quite,” he nodded. “All you need now is a cup of…”

He was cut off as the tea kettle screamed from the kitchen. He turned and looked at her, incredulous. She just smiled back.

“Hey, I learned from the best. Would you like a cup?”

He nodded, watching her as she walked off to the kitchen. The man he had been berated him for even being here, reiterating how foolish he was being, how wrong this was. But the man he was now rejoiced that he had such an influence on this woman and wanted nothing more than to reassure himself with her company. He moved to sit on the small sofa that was across from the chair, settling in and looking around. The room was pure Willow and he felt himself relax as he studied it.

She had decorated in earth tones, warm and inviting with dark wood accents gleaming in the candlelight. In typical Willow fashion, she hadn’t wanted to fuss, purchasing the furniture from a second hand store. It was in good condition and she’d covered it with dark green slip covers. The rest of the look was achieved with swaths of soft material and many well placed plants. It was alive and soothing; all things Willow, and he reveled in it.

Rupert turned as she came back into the room carrying a tea tray. He tried not to notice that her robe had slipped open, displaying her silky pajama pants and the tank top she wore. She set the tray down on the coffee table and settled on the couch next to him, tucking her legs up under her the way he had always remembered her doing. He looked away as he noticed that her tank top was slightly transparent. He wanted to feel ashamed, but all he felt was a warm arousal.

For the next few minutes, they sat in silence, making their tea. It took all Rupert’s willpower not to look at her. He jumped when he felt her hand touch his and he looked up into her eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you so spooked?” Willow asked gently.

“It was nothing, really,” he replied, unable to look away. “Just…just a nightmare.”

Willow frowned, her fingers absently stroking across the back of his hand, sending warm shivers through him.

“But you don’t really have nightmares,” she said, her face troubled. “Not even after Sunnydale. I never understood how you did that. The only time I ever remember you having bad dreams was after Angel.”

He nodded, looking down and stirring his tea, his thoughts as turbulent as the milky swirls in his cup.

“I shouldn’t have bothered you.” His voice was just above a whisper and even he had trouble hearing it.

“You didn’t. I was the one who opened the door.” At his questioning look, she went on. “I heard a noise and I was just seeing what it was. Your back was to me. You’d have never known if I just went inside. I wanted to talk to you.”

Rupert sat, not knowing what to do. He desperately wanted to open up to her, to share the images that haunted him, to take of the comfort she offered. But he had been in the role of mentor so long that he wasn’t sure he could assume any other. He didn’t even know where to begin bringing down the wall he had lived behind for so many years. Again, she lightly stroked the back of his hand, sharing her strength with him.

“Tell me,” she said simply.

He opened his mouth to argue, but need overcame prudence and he found himself telling her how he came to be standing in front of her house at two in the morning.

“You know that I still write in my journal every night,” he began, putting his cup on the table and settling back into the couch. “I know that there really isn’t a point anymore, but it’s a habit. Tonight I was thinking about you and Xander and I found myself writing down a wish. I only want you to be happy. I thought about how you two became a part of this insanity and it occurred to me that you would have been better off if I had insisted you stay out of Buffy’s fight with the Master’s minions. And that was my wish. Perhaps I spent too much time with Anya, but when I went to sleep tonight I dreamed that she granted my wish. Everything changed and I never allowed you into this fight to begin with. It should have been a good thing.”

“But it wasn’t?” Willow asked, her fingers still tracing along the skin of his hand.

“It seems the Hellmouth has its own brand of revenge and no one comes out unscathed. Anya allowed me to go back to that moment where you told me that you needed to help. Instead of asking you to help me with research, I insisted that you and Xander leave the library and never return. You were not to associate with Buffy. I was determined to keep you safe.” He paused, taking his hand from hers and removing his glasses. He took a deep breath, looking across the room at the flickering light of the candle, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“In my attempts to keep you safe, I didn’t teach you how to protect yourselves or how to avoid demons. When the Kleptes-Virgo went after Xander, he didn’t understand there was any danger. Buffy was so far removed from the two of you and your problems that she wasn’t there to save him and he died.”

“That’s awful!” Willow said, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “I can see why you were upset.”

“That was just the beginning. You’ll remember that when we came across the puppet demon hunter, Xander saved me from having my head cut off. He was dead, and there was no one to help me. Buffy was fighting the monster and I…well, I died.”

“Giles!” Willow seemed genuinely upset. “You actually felt your head being cut off?”

“I was watching from the side, so I was spared that. But I will say that it was rather unnerving to see ones own death.”

“I would think so. Giles, that’s just terrible.”

“The council of course sent Buffy a new Watcher. But he wasn’t very understanding of her special circumstances. In fact he made Wesley look relaxed.”

“Oh, that couldn’t have gone well,” Willow said, moving closer to him.

“It didn’t. He pushed her, trained her, denied her any freedoms in an attempt to break her spirit. Instead he drove her to the edge and she was killed fighting a vampire. The next Slayer was called and Kendra and her Watcher were moved to Sunnydale.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” Willow asked. “I mean, Kendra was a pretty good Slayer.”

“It was Kendra who had to face the Master, not Buffy. And she wasn’t strong enough. He killed her and there was no one to bring her back. The Master rose and took over Sunnydale.”

“Like in that world my vampire double came from?”

“Exactly. And just as in that instance, you were turned.”

“I was a vampire?” Willow’s eyes were wide.

“And a very good one,” Rupert replied, quietly. “I woke up just after you killed Faith. The worst part was watching you bathe in her blood.”

“Okay, officially eeww.” Willow said, making a face. “That was one nasty dream.”

“That wouldn’t be the word I would use,” Rupert answered, replacing his glasses. “It was so real. When I woke up, I wasn’t sure if it had happened or if it was going to happen. I didn’t know where I was or even when I was.”

“That would be frightening,” Willow said. She looked at him and he saw understanding in her eyes. “That’s why you came here. To be sure I wasn’t a vampire.”

“Of course when I saw your house I felt foolish,” he said. “But I couldn’t calm down until I knew that you were safe.”

“And all this because you didn’t learn from Cordelia and you had to go and make a wish.” He could tell from the tone of her voice that she was teasing, but after a moment, her expression became serious. “Why would you ever make a wish like that? Were we really that much trouble that you didn’t want us around?”

“Willow, no,” he said, taking her hand again. “I just…it wasn’t fair what I did to you. I stole your childhood, made you and Xander into soldiers when you should have been simply teenagers.”

“I notice Buffy wasn’t a part of your wish.”

“Buffy has a sacred duty, a destiny. She and I had no choice in this. You and Xander did. Fate didn’t give you this life, I did. All the pain and death and heartache in your life is because of me.”

“Oh Giles, that’s not even true,” Willow said, squeezing his hand. “You were the one who protected us from the monsters under the bed. Okay, this life isn’t the safest, but it was a Hellmouth. Without you, I would have been demon food many times over.”

“Willow, I appreciate that you see it that way, but if it weren’t for me, you would have never gotten involved in magic.”

Rupert looked at the floor, unable to face her, not wanting to see the realization in her eyes. He swallowed hard, her silence making him close his eyes against the knot of fear building in his chest. He had failed her and now she knew it too. When he felt gentle fingers on his face his eyes flew open and he almost fell off the couch as she turned him to look at her.

She was smiling at him, but there were tears in her eyes, making them over bright in the dim light of the candles. She lightly stroked along his chin.

“You are not responsible for what happened at the Magic Box,” she said firmly.

“But if I had…”

“No. There are so many ‘if onlys’ along that road, but ultimately, the only person who could have stopped me, was me. I can’t blame Buffy or Jenny or you, or even Warren. I chose to give in to the anger and grief. I let the darkness take me.”

“You didn’t know what you were doing.” Rupert took her hand once more, holding it in both of his in an attempt to comfort her. “Your world had just come to an end. You lost the person who meant the most to you.”

“That isn’t an excuse. You taught me that.”

“I did?”

“It was after Angel. One of those long sleepless nights where you pretended to read a book and we pretended to believe you.” She smiled sadly at him. “It was my night to Watcher-sit and you were looking at some old boring book. I’m guessing it was boring because sometime around midnight you fell asleep. About fifteen minutes later you woke up screaming.”

“I remember that,” Rupert said, just above a whisper. “I remember waking up and you were standing there. I didn’t know if you were real or…”

“Something Drusilla put in your head. I know. You looked at me with this trapped and panicked expression and asked if I was really there. I sat next to you, just like I am right now and took your hand, hoping to calm you down. I needed to distract you, so I asked you a question. Do you remember?”

“You asked if I could use magic to kill Spike and Drusilla.”

“You told me that maybe you could, but that you wouldn’t. I couldn’t understand that. After what they’d done to you I thought you would want to get them any way possible. You said something to me that I never forgot. There are lines we don’t cross. If we allow our anger to take us there, we become worse than the things we fight. It’s our choices that make us human. When I crossed that line, yes, I was angry and hurt, but I let the power make me worse than Warren. I not only hurt him, but I tried to kill the people I love and I almost destroyed the world. What was worse; three lonely geeks causing localized problems or one angry witch intent on ending life as we know it? You were right and I’ll never forget that.”

“But you wouldn’t have had that power if I hadn’t allowed you to study magic.” Rupert sighed, needing her to understand. “I should have taken the time to instruct you, to show you the dark side to the choices you were making. At the very least I should never have left you after you brought Buffy back. I could see that you were in over your head and I did nothing.”

“You could see that I wouldn’t have listened if you had stayed.” Her voice was so gentle. “I was relying on the magic for everything and that wasn’t your fault. I didn’t get into Wicca because of you. I would have found it all on my own. My mistakes were mine, Giles. I’m just glad I have a friend like you to help me through it all.”

He looked at her, taking in her beauty, the way the candlelight glowed in her hair and brought out the warm colours of her skin. His heart hurt, knowing that he wanted what he could never have and more for understanding what he had done to her. By bringing them into his world, Rupert had separated Xander and Willow from anything resembling a normal life. He had isolated them from friends and family, from normal relationships. With his selfishness, he had doomed them to a sad imitation of his own empty existence.

He was thinking of a way to apologize to her when she moved closer, touching his face again.

“Giles, it wasn’t your fault. Please stop beating yourself up over what you couldn’t control.”

“But I could have and moreover I should have,” he said, his voice strained. “I took away everything from you and left you with this nightmare.”

“You saved us, protected us, and made us strong.”

“You can’t even have a relationship because of me.”

He hadn’t meant to say anything; it had just slipped out. If he were to be honest with himself, this was what had started it all. The news that he’d heard in the dining hall earlier this week had stirred the embers of guilt in him until they’d erupted into his nightmare tonight.

“So you heard that Kennedy and I aren’t together anymore.” It wasn’t really a question. Willow shifted, putting her hand over his.

“I did hear that she had moved into the main castle,” Rupert said, not able to look at her. “Was it…I mean with the stress and your position here…I can’t help but feel…”

“It just wasn’t working out. Don’t get me wrong. She’s a very nice girl, but it just wasn’t right. We aren’t angry at each other. Everything ended amicably. And it had nothing to do with Slaying or Wicca or any of this.”

“What…that is, if it isn’t too rude of me to ask…how did you decide…” He had no idea how to ask this. Even all these years later there were still uncomfortable parts to their relationship. He’d worked so hard to be an example, a teacher, an adult for them that he had isolated himself, even from the people he loved the most. “If there wasn’t a fight, why…”

“There’s someone else,” Willow said simply.

“Oh Willow, I’m sorry.” He put an arm around her, hoping to give her comfort. “I didn’t think Kennedy would ever cheat on you.”

“She didn’t,” Willow replied softly. “It wasn’t someone else for her.”

Rupert pulled back, looking down at her in shock.

“Oh, no, I didn’t cheat on her either.” Willow smiled at his perplexed expression. “We were getting along fine, but I’ve started to think about someone else and it wasn’t fair to Kennedy to keep being with her when my affections were somewhere else.”

“No, you are right, it wouldn’t be.”

“I never acted on this new attraction. I wouldn’t have done that to her. But if I was thinking about the other person, I wasn’t in love with Kennedy.”

“Are you going to tell this person?”

“I’m thinking about that,” Willow said seriously. “I’m not sure how the person will react.”

“I’m sure she would want to know,” Rupert replied.

“Well, see, there’s the thing,” Willow said, leaning back on the couch and sighing. “It isn’t a she this time.”

“I’m sorry?” Rupert tried not to sound as confused as he felt.

“Turns out I’m more complex than even I thought. I was sure that I was gay after Tara and all, but I guess I don’t fit into a category. I loved Oz and Tara differently, but it felt the same. Does that make sense? I guess I don’t really look at the gender of the person so much as who they are. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if Tara was a man or a woman, I would have loved her anyway.”

“And this new person is?”

“Well, this time it’s a man. Do you think this is going to confuse everyone? I’m really hoping Buffy and Xander will understand.”

“I’m sure they will once you explain it to them,” Rupert replied. He was mentally going over all the new Watcher trainees, wondering which of them had caught her interest. He was also trying to push down his mounting jealousy.

“I’m not sure it matters anyway,” Willow sighed. “I’m pretty sure he’s not interested. But then, really who can blame him when I come off as busy and, well, gay. Then there’s the fact that I know he sees me as a child.”

Rupert blinked. He now knew who she was talking about and was surprised how deeply it hurt. Of course it made sense. It couldn’t be any of the new Watchers. None of them would ever look at Willow as a child. They all saw her as a powerful witch. Not to mention that most of them were her age. No, the only person who would see Willow as a child was the boy who had grown up with her. He would remember her playing with dolls and wearing overalls; his memories of her would overlay who she had grown into.

He wanted to be happy for them. If there were any of this group that deserved to find happiness together it was Willow and Xander. He supposed this was inevitable. She had loved Xander since they were children. If only Rupert hadn’t let himself love her. He could deny his feelings for Willow, but they were still there. Would he be able to look at Xander and not envy him? It was easier when she’d loved a stranger. A part of him began to hurt.

“I’m sure when you tell him, he’ll be able to look past that,” Rupert said, almost choking on the words.

“But I don’t think he’s even attracted to me,” Willow said, staring at him intently. “He hasn’t shown any interest.”

He knew Xander had been wrapped up in his work lately, helping to build the compound and working with the new Slayers. But he also remembered that Xander had definitely noticed Willow in high school. He had vivid images of catching the boy watching her with interest when he thought no one was looking.

“I’m sure he’s attracted to you, Willow. You should tell him how you feel.” He was surprised that those simple words could steal his breath. He wanted her to be happy, so how could he begrudge her the man who could give her that happiness?

“Do you think I should?”

“Absolutely,” Rupert said quietly. “He’d want to know.”

Willow was nodding as she sat in the shadows. After a moment, she shifted and sat up, moving over until her knee was touching his.

“Giles?”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in and when they did he was sure he’d heard her wrong. He turned and looked at her, seeing a smile playing around her lips and he felt a rush of warmth. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears and he felt a bit dizzy. This couldn’t be happening. She loved Xander, not him. He swallowed hard, trying to get his breath back.

“Giles?” She was looking at him with concern, obviously expecting an answer or at least a reaction.

He realized that his just sitting and staring might be unnerving to her. He tried to say something, but no words came to mind. He swallowed again, struggling to think of some way to make sure of what he’d heard.

“I…I’m…Could you please say that again?” It wasn’t elegant, but it was to the point.

She smiled at him and took his hand.

“I said I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“With me?” Why wasn’t he able to come up with anything better than this? He felt stupid, like he’d been hit on the head yet again. He should be charming her with his eloquence, yet he was lucky to put two syllables together.

“Yes, you.” She was still smiling, her face showing understanding of his shock.

“But…why?” Oh yes, that was much better. Had his brain really deserted him to this extent?

“Mostly, because you’re you,” Willow said, rubbing the back of his hand. “But I’m guessing you want specifics.”

He nodded, knowing he could never find the words to tell her what he needed to hear.

“The first time I walked into the library and saw you, you took my breath away. You are brilliant. I’ve always been impressed by how much you know and how easily you learn things. I can talk to you about anything for hours. Add that to your sexy smile, your beautiful eyes, your amazing voice, and your muscular body that has always distracted me in the best ways and how could I not love you?”

“And what has made you realize this lately?” He asked, impressed with himself for forming a complete thought. “You did after all have a girlfriend.”

“There wasn’t any thing in particular, no blinding flash of realization, per say.” He arched an eyebrow at her and she smiled. “I was attracted to you the day I met you. Of course I’m pretty sure neither of us took that crush seriously, but even then I knew you were something special. Over the years I watched you give up everything you wanted for us and I think I loved you all the more. The summer I stayed with you after Tara died…it was the worst time of my life, but you were there. You kept me safe, even from myself, and you cared for me. By the time I went back to Sunnydale I realized I’d never stopped loving you, but I was still hurting and it just wasn’t the right time. After that, everything feels like a blur. You were running all over the world risking your life to protect the Slayers and the rest of us were just fighting to survive. And then there was Kennedy and settling down here, figuring out our place in the world. About a month ago I was walking across the compound and I saw you out sparring with the Slayers. That was when it clicked into place.”

“What did?” Rupert asked, looking at her in the dimming candlelight.

“You’re in charge now. You don’t have to do that stuff anymore. But there you were, out there with a quarterstaff, just like you were in high school when you were training Buffy. And it hit me that after eight years and so many near death moments, you are still the same man who took my breath away in the high school library. And I still love you.”

Rupert smiled, reaching out to gently stroke her face.

“And I love you.” He saw the surprise flicker across her face. “I have always admired your intelligence and grace. The summer you were in Bath I watched you overcome something devastating and mature into such an amazing woman. After all the time we spent talking and getting to know each other, I couldn’t help but become somewhat enamoured with you.”

“Giles, I was gay.”

“Yes, you were.” He smiled at her confused expression. “You may have been unattainable, but that didn’t mean I could stop my feelings for you from evolving. I’ve always loved you in some form. When you were in school it was the love of a mentor. Recently that love has grown into something…romantic. I tried to tell myself it was inappropriate, but my heart has convinced me otherwise.”

“Even after I tried to kill you?” she asked quietly.

“Well, there is that,” Rupert replied with a grin. At her frown he continued. “Willow, you lived through something no one should have to, losing someone so dear to you. You didn’t choose the best way to deal with it, but in the end you conquered your darker impulses. I have watched you work so hard to make amends and if I didn’t hold a grudge when Angel tried to kill me what makes you think I would hate you?”

She just looked at him, her eyes dark in the candlelight and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Before he could ask, she was leaning forward and then she was kissing him.

This moment was everything Rupert had ever wanted. He loved her deeply, but he’d never dared hope that she would return that love. When she said the words, he’d thought he was hallucinating. He wanted to believe her; his doubts ate him whole, but in the end, his love for her overcame his fears and he took her in his arms.

His mouth caressed hers, as he lost himself in her kiss. The scent of her, the intoxicating taste of her mouth, filled his senses, causing a shiver to run through his body. She felt so wonderful in his arms; he’d dreamed of this for so long, never had he thought she would be his.

He gently ran his tongue across her lips and she opened her mouth to him, her tongue seeking his. He sucked her lower lip in, nipping it slightly and she moaned into his mouth. This was almost too much to bear. It was every amazing dream he’d ever had; the woman he loved was in his arms, kissing him passionately and moaning at his touch. He wasn’t sure how this had happened, but he silently thanked every god he’d ever heard of for it.

His whole body began to react to her as he pulled her against himself, his hands going to her hair, tangling in the silky strands. Her tongue found his again and the kiss became something powerful and desperate. His lips massaged her mouth as his tongue rocked against hers. He broke the kiss with a gasp as her hand inadvertently brushed against his erection.

He looked down at her with wide eyes, his body trembling. She smiled at him, leaning closer, her mouth finding his throat. Rupert closed his eyes, as she kissed and nibbled along the sensitive skin on his neck. He felt her delicate fingers run across his hip and his breathing became more erratic. His better angels were telling him that he should end this here and now before he found himself shagging her on her couch, but his body begged him for just a few more minutes of paradise. Before he could collect his thoughts further, he felt her hand move lower and all thought ceased as his head dropped back and he groaned loudly.

His body was on fire, he wanted her so desperately. He shifted, pinning her against the couch, his hips moving under her touch, breathless moans pulled from his lips. He pulled back, bringing her with him. The next minute she was sitting in his lap, his mouth finding her neck, his hands moving to her chest.

Willow gasped, shifting her hips so they brushed across Rupert’s and the realization of what he was doing broke through the hormonal haze of his brain. He moved away from where he was nibbling on her jaw and gently lifted her from his lap to the couch next to him. She was looking at him in complete confusion.

“Willow.” He looked at her and when he saw the worry on her face he reached out and lightly touched her cheek. He was sure she hadn’t really thought this through. It was one thing for her to admit her attraction for him, but acting on it was something else entirely. Touching him, kissing him, she would see how old and used he was and he wasn’t sure he could emotionally survive her changing her mind. He wanted to voice his fears, but all that came out was, “Isn’t this rather sudden?”

Willow was looking at him, her face a study in disbelief. Suddenly she broke out laughing.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to stifle her giggles. “It just struck me as an odd thing to say after eight years of foreplay.”

“Willow, I would have never pursued this when you were in school.” He needed her to know that he wasn’t that man.

“I know.” Her voice was gentle and he forced himself to relax. “I was talking about from my side.”

“I just…I don’t want to rush you into anything you aren’t ready for.”

She reached out and took his hand, looking into his eyes.

“Rupert,” His eyes widened at the rush of desire he felt at hearing her call him by his name. A part of him could imagine her saying it in the throes of passion and he had to force himself to pay attention to what she was saying. “I want this. I want you.”

She was looking at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light, her voice so calm and sure. She knew him better than anyone had for a long time and he swallowed back his fears, trusting that she could love him as much as he loved her. He stood, turning to face her.

“Perhaps we should move this somewhere more comfortable?” he suggested casually.

Willow stood, stretching and he found he couldn’t take his eyes off her chest. Her laugh made him blush.

“See something you like?” she asked playfully.

“Well…it’s just…” He swallowed hard. “Yes, very much.”

“Good.” She was still grinning at him. “I’d really like you to take a much closer look.”

He looked at her standing there, smiling and happy to be with him, and something shifted inside him. All his years of being alone, of having to put what he wanted aside for the good of the world; all the hurt, fear, and loneliness that he carried every day seemed to dissolve. In her eyes he saw acceptance, want, love and he felt happiness building inside him. With a wicked grin, he stepped forward, easily sweeping her up in his arms.

“You know I’ve always enjoyed research,” he whispered, his lips against her ear. He was gratified to feel her trembling in his arms.

“You’ve always been good at it too,” she replied, her voice heavy with double meaning.

“And I’m extremely thorough,” he said, moving towards her bedroom. “I wouldn’t want to miss anything. This could take the rest of the night.”

“I certainly hope so,” Willow murmured, her lips against his as he kissed her deeply and carried her down the hall.

The End

Fic: Strangers In the Night (Rupert/OFC - FRT)

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 15:55:40 GMT

Here is one of my entries for Summer of Giles.

Title: Strangers In The Night
Author’s Name: Laura Sichrovsky (E-Mail: Laurtew@Yahoo.com)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Rupert/OFC
Warnings: None really.
Season: During season six.

Summary: During one of those endless flights when Rupert was running about the world saving Slayers, he meets someone
who is willing to listen.

Spoilers: Some from episodes in season six.

Disclaimer: This is where I put the statement saying that I do not own Buffy, Giles (Heh! I wish!), Sunnydale, or anything relating
                     to the show. No one is paying me to do this and if you feel the sudden urge to send me gifts, you might want to talk
                     to someone about that. Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy and has not given me permission to use these characters
                     as I have so if you have problems with the story, please send the pretzel bombs to me, not him.

Author's Notes: Thanks need to be given, and here is where they go. Thanks to Joss for creating characters so fun to watch and
                            to borrow for a bit. Thanks to Tony Head for making Giles so amazing. I tried to fight it, but he was just too
                            remarkable not to fall in love with. Big thank yous to my other half and best friend Ann for all the love and
                            support. I could never write without her help and I would never want to try. I appreciate all her work. Thank
                            you to Jess for listening and helping me put this is readable form.

I wrote this in the "she" format as kind of an ABH without the "you". This is why the character doesn't have a name. So sit back and put yourself in the story for a bit. Hope you like it.

Strangers In the Night

She made a face as she hefted her laptop into the overhead bin above her seat. She’d never been one for travel. Some people wanted to see the world, but she wasn’t one of them. She’d always been content to stay in her little part of the planet. Even her job had been picked with stability in mind. She translated ancient records for museums. How often would that require world travel?

She sighed as she settled into her seat. She hadn’t counted on her museum loaning her out like a library book. One minute she’d been in her basement office studying a tenth century manuscript, the next she was being told that her services were needed in Prague. Who could have seen that coming?

She supposed she shouldn’t complain. The books she had been asked to translate had been fascinating; handwritten medieval records from a feudal estate written in a language no one had seen in use for over a thousand years. It had taken her a while to get the syntax down, but in all honesty she had enjoyed the work. Now she was ready to go home.

She had just stowed her book in the pocket of the seat in front of her when she found herself looking at a man standing next to her. She looked up at him frowning, wondering what he could possibly want.

“The seat next to you,” he said with no preamble. “I believe it’s mine.”

He stood looking at her for another few moments, until it occurred to her that she would have to move for him to get over to the window seat. She blushed and murmured an apology as she stood up and moved into the aisle. It didn’t take him long to put his things away and sit down. She got the impression that he did this quite often.

She didn’t mean to stare. She wasn’t really rude by nature, but this man had gotten her attention. Maybe it was his appearance. True, he had striking good looks, with his lean, muscular body and pleasant face, but that wasn’t what she was looking at. He looked exhausted, over used with dark circles under his eyes. He winced when he moved and she could see a bruise on his left cheek.

She wanted to say something, but she had no idea where to start. Besides, the man had settled into his seat and was now leaning back with his eyes closed. He obviously didn’t want to be disturbed. She resettled in her seat and for lack of anything better to do, she began to peruse the safety brochure that the airlines put out. If she hadn’t been a bit freaked about flying before this, she was now. She’d had no idea that so many things could go wrong.

When the plane began to taxi, she put the folder away, trying very hard to forget what she’d just read. After that initial feeling of falling when the plane first took off, she was able to relax, if only a bit. After the plane leveled out, the stewardess announced a drink service would begin. It wasn’t long before the drink cart reached her row. She asked for a lemon soda with ice. As the woman poured it, she asked the man what he wanted.

“A scotch please,” he said, his voice low and rough. He reached into his pocket and brought out his wallet. “I don’t suppose I could purchase more than one?”

“How many would you like, sir?”

“How many would you sell me?”

The woman looked at him and was struck by his haunted expression. The stewardess apparently missed it. She was looking at him in confusion.

“Let’s start with two and see what happens,” he said, handing over the money. The woman passed him two small bottles and a plastic cup with ice.

After the cart moved on, she turned and watched him as he poured the scotch into the cup and began to sip at it. She had no idea why she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. There was just something that was calling to her. He must have felt her eyes on him. After he’d taken a couple of sips he turned to look at her.

“Is something wrong?” He was looking at her over his glasses.

She’d intended to apologize and perhaps read her book, but when she opened her mouth that wasn’t what came out.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.” He blinked and she felt a blush rising to her cheeks.

“I’m sorry?” His brow was furrowed and he was watching her closely.

“It’s just…well, you look upset.”

She saw the interest leave his eyes and he turned away from her.

“It’s nothing.”

“One doesn’t usually look so worn over nothing,” she said quietly.

Once more he turned to look at her, his eyes searching her face.

“I’m not sure what business it is of yours,” he said, though his voice carried no anger. He sighed, a look of defeat on his face. “It’s not as if you’d believe me anyway.”

“Does it matter if I do?” she asked, smiling at him. “I mean, it’s not like you’ll ever see me again. What am I going to do, tell the stewardess to commit you? You can tell me something completely outrageous and it wouldn’t matter if I believed you or not.”

He furrowed his brow again, looking at her intently.

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

“Something obviously has you upset and it might help if you talked to someone.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to?” She smiled at him.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t know yours either,” she replied.

He looked at her and she could see him assessing her. After a moment he put the drink down and held his hand out.

“My name is Rupert. Rupert Giles.”

She took his hand gently in hers and introduced herself. He nodded, his gaze still intent.

“I’m still not sure why I should talk to you.” he said quietly.

“Because you really need to and I’m willing to listen.”

He sat, sipping on his drink, looking at her intently. After a minute, he tipped his head.

"Okay. I'm on my way back from failing to rescue a girl. She died because of me."

She nodded at him, looking into his eyes. They were dark with emotion. He took a deep breath and continued.

“I work for a group that trains young girls to protect people from…well, there is no good way to say this. Vampires, demons, the forces of darkness.” He paused, looking at her, gauging her reaction. When she just nodded at him, he continued. “But something went wrong and now the enemy knows who these girls are and
is sending people to kill them. The people who train them don't know and won't listen. I try to get to them, to warn them, but half the time I’m too late.”

This wasn’t what she had expected. Vampires? Was he serious? One look at his face told her that he was. Thoughts of mental instability flitted through her mind, but there was something about his face, about the look in his eyes that put those thoughts to rest. She wasn’t sure where this was going, but for now she was willing to keep listening.

"So you end up having to bury them?" she asked, her expression intense.

"For the most part, I pick up the pieces; literally," he said, just above a whisper. "This last girl, they used an axe and it was..."

He closed his eyes and his whole body shuddered. As she studied him, she saw his hands trembling and his breath hitched in his throat.

"I buried what I could find." She looked at his haunted face, her heart going out to him as he continued. "And her Watcher, the man who trained her, he...he was a friend of mine. We went to college together."

He turned and looked at her, his eyes dark and stormy.

"Do you know how much I don't want to have to be the one to tell his parents that I couldn't find his head?"

He looked down, twisting his hands together to stop the shaking. She could feel how much this hurt him. It didn’t matter that the story was outrageous; something in his manner made her believe. She reached out and touched his arm, wanting to offer comfort. He jumped, looking startled.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, pulling her hand back.

"No, it's just..." He paused, looking at her, his lips twitched with suppressed emotion. "It's been a while since anyone has touched me."

"Anyone? Even your family and friends?"

"My situation is...unusual. My family and friends are fighting this war too. They are too busy trying to stay alive to worry about me." He looked down but she saw the truth of it in his eyes; the pain and loneliness he’d carried with him for so long that it was a part of him.

"Seems to me a situation like this would make them worry more." she said quietly, her hand going to his arm again.

He shrugged at her, still looking down and she moved her fingers to lightly stroke across his skin. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I'd forgotten how nice that feels."

She trailed her fingers up and began to play with his hair. He relaxed and she moved her hand to stroke his face as he leaned into her touch. She smiled, enjoying the softness of his skin, the masculine smell of him so close. When he opened his eyes, he was just staring at her. She could see something in his eyes, but she wasn’t sure what. He sighed.

"You don't have to do that." His voice was quiet and sad. She trailed her fingers along his jawline.

"I don't mind."

After a minute he started to shift in his seat and he reached out, taking her hand from where she was trailing down his neck.

"It might be better if you stopped for now."

She arched an eyebrow at him and he blushed.

"Suffice it to say, I'm enjoying it." he murmured, looking away.

The way he said it, the look on his face made her look down and oh yes, he was enjoying it. He blushed more and shifted, trying to hide his arousal from her. She smiled at him.

"You don't have to be embarrassed."

"I don't even know you."

"Your point is?"

"I shouldn't be thinking about what you would look like riding me until I'm screaming your name."

"Why not?"

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and she laughed.

“Okay, you might have a point there. Maybe I should at least figure out where you live before I climb in your lap.”

He was still watching her, evaluating how serious she was. She was smiling and he must have decided she was joking. He nodded.

“Well, at least what country I live in,” he said quietly returning the smile.

She reached out and took his hand, looking up at him.

“In all seriousness, you really are worrying too much. I’m very low stress and I don’t get offended easily. I’m also pretty open minded.”

“Open minded enough to believe in vampires and demons?” he asked intently.

“Why not?” she responded seriously. “Who am I to say that they don’t exist? I’ve seen some pretty odd things in my life.”

“And it doesn’t seem curious to you that I say I fight them?”

“Well, it’s not something I hear every day, but why wouldn’t I believe it?”

“Most people would say that was a bit…”

“Unhinged?” she suggested.

“I was going to say unusual, but that works just as well.” He was still watching her, his gaze unwavering.

“I’ll admit it gave me pause at first,” she said. “But something about you…I don’t know why, but I believe you.”

She watched him let out a breath and saw the tension leave his shoulders. She realized that he had been holding himself rigid, ready for some blow to fall. She gently squeezed his hand. He looked up, his eyes unreadable.

“I…” He paused, swallowing hard. When he spoke his voice was just above a whisper. “Do you know how alone in all this I’ve been?”

“Surely your family…”

“They have their own battles,” he responded quietly. “At this point I’m rather an afterthought. I’m not complaining; I understand. They are fighting in a more real sense than I am. But for three months now I’ve been running all over the world and I’ve only been able to save eight girls. I keep arriving just too late.”

“You are doing your best,” she said, stroking his hand, trying desperately to give him comfort.

“But it isn’t enough.” His voice was tight and she could see the tension was back. “These girls are so young and I should be protecting them. But I keep failing. I haven’t slept a whole night in three months. Every night I see their faces and I wake up screaming.”

“Rupert,” she said, looking at him seriously. “Is there anything more you can do?”

“I…I don’t know. I can’t think of anything, but…” He trailed off, looking at her in desperation.

“You are doing the best you can,” she reiterated. “You’ve saved eight girls who should be dead and I know there will be others.”

“How do you know?” He asked in an anguished whisper.

“Because you are a hero,” she said simply.

He snorted and she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m no hero,” he said firmly. “Buffy, my Slayer, she’s the hero. I just research.”

“Seems to me that any man who runs around the world fighting to save girls does more than book work,” she replied. She paused, not wanting to appear stupid, but needing to know. “What is a Slayer?”

For the next fifteen minutes she listened as he told her about the one girl in all the world with the strength and talent to fight the forces of darkness. He talked about the Council. After he finished she looked at him and frowned.

“And what are you?”

“I’m a Watcher.”

“Like the men who are training those girls?”

He nodded.

“Then you train a girl?”

“I used to.”

She heard his voice catch and she stroked his hand again.

“What happened?”

“She didn’t need me anymore.” The tension in his voice belied his casual words. After a pause his voice dropped to a whisper. “None of them do.”

She wasn’t sure whom he was talking about, but she could guess.

“I’m sure they do.”

He sighed and smiled at her, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I should be proud, really,” he said quietly. “When I first came to them they knew nothing about this life and had no idea how to defend themselves. Now they are better at it than I am. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? One generation teaches the next? And as I get to be too old to fight this war, they take it over?”

“What makes you think you are too old?” she asked.

“Because I am. Because I get knocked about the head far more than I should.” He paused, looking away. When he spoke his voice was just above a whisper. “Because they tell me so.”

“Oh Rupert.” She squeezed his hand, wondering what kind of people would treat him this way. “You are *not* old. I don’t know why they would tell you that you are, but…”

“Oh, they’ve not said it in so many words for a while,” he interjected. “But I can see it in their eyes when they talk to me…if they talk to me.”

“If?”

“They’re busy,” he said quietly. “They’re rarely even about the house.”

“But?”

He sighed and she saw the last of his resistance fall. He was upset, tired of being alone in his fight, and she saw the realization dawn on him that for this moment, he didn’t have to be. He looked into her eyes and she saw the hurt flare brightly.

“But I can be at the house for days without having any of them look at me, let alone talk to me. Even the girls I’ve rescued are drawn into it, walking past me as if I’m not there.” He looked at her and that haunted smile was back. “This enemy we fight, the First, it can take the form of anyone who is dead. But it’s not solid, so it can’t touch anything or be touched. Last week I took a group of the new girls out into the desert for meditation exercises. While we were there, Xander, Willow, Anya, and some of the others came looking for me. Seems they got a call from a friend of mine who thought I was dead and they realized that while I had been at the house for a week, none of them had touched me or even noticed if I had touched anything.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, stroking the back of his hand.

“How did it come to this? We were a family. We put our lives at risk for each other every night. They thought I was brave.” His voice caught and she barely heard him. “She called me a god.”

She didn’t know what to tell him. There were no easy answers to this. She turned to him to see him shaking his head.

“Maybe I really am too old for this,” he said quietly. “I am proud of them. All of them. They’ve taken on a responsibility that no one should ever have to face. And with only a few problems and a bit of whining, they’ve handled it far better than most adults. Every time I see them fight, when I see Willow control her magic or Buffy effortlessly kill a demon, I know that I trained them well and I couldn’t be prouder of them if they were my own children. I shouldn’t let it bother me that they are too focused to fuss over an old man.”

“Rupert…”

“No. This life…you can’t understand. Every night is a different battle, each more deadly than the last. You find yourself growing bitter, never seeing the goodness or beauty in the world.” He sighed, pursing his lips. “I can’t remember the last time I stopped to look at a flower or even noticed the stars. I never even look at them anymore. Night for us usually means a whole new terror. You never trust anyone or let them in your life, because if you do they’ll either betray you or die because of you. It’s so easy to become jaded, lost in your own head. And night after night, you fight an evil that most people never see. You face terrors that you don’t want to remember and you do it alone because there isn’t any other choice. How can I blame them for resenting me for doing this to them?”

She didn’t have an answer; there really wasn’t one. But then, from the look on his face, he wasn’t expecting one.

“You aren’t alone,” she whispered.

“I know,” he replied with another sigh. “When this is over, I’m sure they will…”

“No…I was…I meant me.” Her reply was so quiet that she wasn’t sure he’d heard.

She looked up at him and from the look of horror on his face she realized he must have.

“No.” His reply was terse and clipped. “You said this arrangement was only for the flight. I will not put you in danger by letting this go further.”

“Rupert…”

“No!” People in other rows turned and looked at them. He lowered his voice. “I’ve already gotten too many people killed with my carelessness. I won’t add to the body count.”

“I’m not suggesting I learn to fight these things. I’m simply saying that I can be a sounding board, a respite when it all gets to you. I’ve got to be better than drinking.”

He was watching her, his eyes searching hers.

“You don’t want to be a part of this.”

“Yes I do. Well, I at least want to help you.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking. There will be weeks at a time you won’t hear from me while I’m off looking for girls. When I do talk to you, my mood will be black and angry. And what would I talk to you about? I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear the details of the bodies I find.”

“I understand that you need someone to tell those to. And I’ll listen.”

“Why? Why would you do this? You don’t even know me.”

“But I do know you,” she said quietly. “I look in your eyes and I see who you are. You’re a hero. You risk your life every night to save people who don’t even know they are in danger. I just want to help you.”

He looked at her, his face unreadable. She was sure he wasn’t going to say anymore and she prepared herself for a quiet flight. She jumped when he reached over and took her hand. She looked up to see him smiling at her.

“Where do we start?” he asked quietly.

“It’s usually best to start at the beginning,” she said, settling back in her seat.

“Do you want my whole childhood or just from where I moved to America?” His tone was slightly confused and his brow was furrowed.

“Wherever you want to,” she said with a laugh.

“Then I’ll start when I was ten,” he answered seriously. “When my father told me that I had no choice; this would be my life.”

She nodded, relaxing as she listened to him talk about his childhood dreams of fighter pilots and grocers and before she knew it the long flight was over.

------------------------------------------------------
Rupert stood in the kitchen of his flat in Bath. He was only here for a few days between runs to Egypt and returning to Sunnydale. He had just poured himself a glass of orange juice when he heard his front door bell ring. The postman must have come early today.

He retrieved the post from the metal box next to his door, surprised to see a package with the usual bills. It had no return address on it, but it had come from the States. With a frown he went back to the kitchen.

Opening it did little to assuage his curiosity. The only thing in the box was a cell phone; no note, no return address. He turned the phone on, noting that there was a number programmed into the memory. With a shrug and only slight misgivings, he called it.

“Hello?” the familiar female voice said.

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” Rupert said in confusion.

She laughed.

“I got you a cell phone.”

“Me? But…why?”

“Because I’m not comfortable with you being missing for weeks. I want to know that you’re safe. This way you can call me wherever you are and whenever you need me.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he replied, trying hard not to feel so pleased.

“I want to,” she replied quietly. After a pause she continued. “Are you feeling better this morning?”

“I am,” he answered. “I’m also sorry for worrying you so much last night. I was upset for having lost that girl.”

“Hey, this is why you call me,” she said simply. “I’m here to listen; good, bad, or crazy insane depressed. I’m just glad I was able to make you feel better.”

“You very much did,” he said. “And I appreciate it.”

“I’m happy to help. And if I can keep you from actually walking into traffic, it’s all good, right?”

“I did say I was sorry about that. I merely said I wanted to, not that I would.”

She laughed.

“Distinction noted. So, what are your plans for today?”

Rupert settled into a chair, relaxing into the conversation. Having this woman in his life was unexpected and while he still had alarms going off in his head for her safety, he knew she was right; he needed her. Since he’d had her to talk to, he’d felt less stressed, less alone. And now he had a way to contact her wherever he went.

Part of him felt like such a burden to her, but mostly he was happy that someone cared enough about him to worry so much. He wasn’t sure what it all meant or where this was all going, but for now, he was going to accept the comfort she offered.

The End

I'm Stunned!

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 20:04:03 GMT

I received an e-mail today about my story You Can Tell a Lot About a Person From Their Hot Water Heater . It said, "Can I read this on Strangely Literal? It's a podcast I do with fanfic! "

So, I told Ann, who said you can get that podcast on iTunes. I'm just stunned.

Here is the link for Strangely Literal. When I figure out when it's going to be on, I'll let you know!

Christmas Present

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 07:40:16 GMT

It was brought to my attention that while I put this on Still Grrr, I didn't post it here! So, while it isn't Christmas, here is a short Christmas piece.

Title: Christmas Present
Rating: PG
Word Count: 792
Summary: While Rupert is out Christmas shopping, he comes to understand something.

Christmas Present

Rupert closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was all just too overwhelming; how could anyone expect him to figure it out? He opened his eyes and looked down, his brow furrowing as he read. He took another breath, feeling like growling in frustration. They both said the same thing; what was the difference?

“This one says it’s for Windows,” he said out loud. “And this one is for a Mac. What does that mean and which one does Willow have?”

“Can I help you find something?”

Rupert jumped, looking up to see a woman standing next to him. How had she snuck up on him without him noticing? He had a momentary worry that she might be a demon, but dismissed it; demons didn’t usually wear name tags that said, “My name is Bethany. How may I help you?” He could only conclude that he must have been too focused on these stupid software boxes. He made a mental note to bring a cross with him the next time he went Christmas shopping; it was better to be on the safe side.

“I wish to purchase this software for a friend, but I don’t know which one to get.” He hoped he didn’t look too inept.

“Does your friend have a Windows system or a Mac?”

“I…Well, how would I know?”

The woman looked at him for a moment and he blushed, feeling completely stupid. The woman blinked, but then she smiled.

“Well, what kind of computer does your friend have?”

“I…well…oh, it’s a laptop.”

“What does the laptop look like?

“Well, it’s black.”

“Does it have a picture of an apple on it?”

“Yes, yes it does.” Rupert felt they might be getting somewhere. Maybe he could do this after all.

“That would be a Macintosh system. It’s called Mac for short. Just remember the brand of apple by that name.”

“So I would buy her the version for a Mac?”

“Exactly. See? Not so hard after all. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Not unless you know where I can locate an…” He paused, consulting his list. “MP3 player or a DVD of Stargate.”

She smiled at him pleasantly and he relaxed a bit.

“Follow me, sir.”

Shopping really wasn’t Rupert’s strong suit. He was definitely out of his element in a mall or a…what was it called? Oh yes, an electronics superstore. Why couldn’t the children have requested something that he knew how to shop for, such as antique books or…well, that was pretty much what he knew how to shop for; but he was very good at it.

Forty minutes later, after a discussion about the merits of WMA compatibility and a side tour through the store’s CD collection, Rupert stood in line waiting to check out. Bethany had been very helpful, even going so far as to direct him to a different store in the mall where he could get Buffy’s present. But it still didn’t make this experience any more pleasant.

He was waiting his turn, looking at his list when a thought occurred to him that stopped him, making him blink. No, shopping wasn’t something Rupert enjoyed, but he actually had people to shop for. So many years he had been alone. So many years he hadn’t given or received gifts for the holiday. Christmas had been just another day for him. He had worked, eaten alone, and secretly envied people who had a family to spend the day with.

And now, he was one of those people. He had a family to buy gifts for, people who cared enough to buy gifts for him. He had made a show of his indifference, sighing dramatically when Willow asked him for a gift list. But in all honesty he had been pleased the children cared enough to want to purchase things for him. They would even be over on Christmas afternoon to eat dinner with him.

As he stood in the long line, watching shoppers mill around him, he couldn’t help but smile. He finally had what he would have never admitted that he always wanted. He actually had people to buy presents for and no matter how frustrating the shopping experience was, that fact made everything worth it. He would finish this ordeal, go home and wrap everything, put them under the Christmas tree the children had purchased for him, and plan out a traditional British Christmas dinner.

He went back to studying his list and making plans. He would have been surprised to realize that he was humming along to the Christmas carol playing over the store’s speaker system.

The End

Poem

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 20:01:54 GMT

My son, Samuel, asked me to contribute to a poetry book he's doing for school. So, this is what I came up with. Weird yes, but I think I like it.

This Madness

For those who hear the muses’ voice
The world isn’t shades of gray.
They color it with worlds and art
Each hearing things in their own way.

And those who cannot hear the call
Don’t understand these rarest souls.
They call them disturbed, call them mad,
They try to make their gift run cold.

Are they crazy, are they odd,
These ones who hear a different voice?
Should they shun it, should they stay quiet?
Or is it even still their choice?

Perhaps their hearts beat wild and free
Perhaps they hear the soul’s refrain.
When madness comes on angel’s wings
Can it be truly judged the same?

This is what I have so far. It's all I'm turning in to Samuel. Maybe I'll write more later, but it's done for now. :)

Fic: "Do You Know How Lucky You Are?" PG

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 14:39:22 GMT

I know it's been forever since I've posted anything. It's been a very, very odd month or so. On the fan fiction front, my Rupert went on strike and refused to even be in the same room as Buffy. This put three of my stories on hold while I calm him down. ::sigh:: And this week, I've been ill, so I'm behind in everything.

One of the things I'm behind in is that I entered Bookishwench's Oscar betting pool . (We picked who we thought would win and the losers write the winner a story about the character of their choice.) Well, I didn't win and the person who did requested Oz. (I'm so glad. I can write Oz. It could have been something like Spike.) Anywhom, the story was due on Sunday, but here it is Thursday and I finally finished it. :::sigh:::
Anywhom, I tried to write Oz, sans Rupert, but I just couldn't. So, here is the story I came up with.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Title: Do You Know How Lucky You Are?
Author’s Name: Laura Sichrovsky
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Season: It takes place in season two

Spoilers: None really.

Do You Know How Lucky You Are?

Oz opened the library door, placing his hand on the small of Willow’s back and guiding her into the room. It had been a long day of classes and he was looking forward to spending time with his girl, even if it was spent looking up evil fangy creatures.

“Hey guys, you’re late!” Buffy said, looking up from the book she was reading.

“I was having a little locker trouble,” Willow replied, looking at Oz and blushing.

Buffy laughed.

“More like a little boyfriend time?” she said.

“Well…” Willow blushed even deeper as she sat next to her friend. “So, what are we looking up today?”

Oz smiled as he settled in next to Willow. He loved all the little things about her; the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, the fiery color of her hair, and the way she got embarrassed when people knew she’d spent time kissing him. It was kind of cute really.

Oz moved his chair closer to Willow and picked up a book to study. He had gotten about three sentences into it when he felt someone watching him. He looked up and not seeing anyone, he looked around. After a second, his eyes met Giles’s and he saw the older man look quickly back to his book. Oz only wondered on it for a minute before Willow leaned over, putting her hand over his. He turned his attention back to her.

****************
Giles fought down a blush at being caught watching Oz and Willow. He hadn’t meant to stare really, but he found himself doing it more and more these days. At first he hadn’t been sure why. But one day he had been covertly watching Willow playing with Oz’s hair and it had come to him with startling clarity. He was jealous.

It wasn’t that he envied who Oz was with so much as that he longed to have what they had. He saw the way Willow looked at Oz, the unconscious gestures, the touches, the way she leaned against him, the smile that was his alone. And Rupert wanted that; wanted someone to love him, no matter how hard it got, someone to touch him and bring him back from his darker thoughts, he yearned to have someone look at him the way she looked at Oz, with total trust and devotion.

He wondered if Oz understood how lucky he was to have Willow. Something told him the boy knew. He sighed deeply as he realized that he was watching them again. He couldn’t seem to help himself. He watched as Willow leaned in, whispering something into Oz's ear, her lips not even inches from the boy's flesh and he had to turn away. It felt wrong to watch such an intimate moment, even if they didn't realize that it was. To them, it was simply part of their relationship. To Rupert, to whom such small comforts were denied, it was so much more. To share even these small moments in their lives was the embodiment of the deeper emotions that marked their bond. They couldn’t appreciate it for what it was, but Rupert would have given anything to have someone to whisper in his ear, to touch him in a moment of spontaneous affection.

Perhaps that kind of love was lost only on the young, but he'd like to think it wasn’t. He'd like to think that if Oz, quiet and deep of thought as he was, could earn the love of an amazing woman, that Rupert might have a chance at that too. He closed his eyes, picturing it for just a minute. Someone who wanted to be the center of his world, someone he could hold at night and talk to when everything became too much. Of course, thinking about what he didn’t have only made it worse, so Rupert opened his eyes, once again finding himself watching Willow and Oz.

They were sitting close, hips pressed together. Willow was leaning in to Oz, her hair brushing his shoulder. Rupert could see the way she smiled at Oz, could feel the happiness they felt at just being together. And there was something about that that gave Rupert hope. If a werewolf could find acceptance and love, perhaps Rupert could too. He sighed again and went back to his studies

****************************

Oz was laughing at something Willow had said when he felt it again, looking up to see Giles hastily going back to his book. He frowned, wondering what it was that kept drawing the Watcher’s attention, but once more his interest went back to Willow as her fingers began to trace along his. He smiled at her, feeling his heart skip a beat when she smiled back. He loved her so much. She was his world.

Most girls wouldn’t be able to deal with his monthly secret, but Willow was nothing but supportive, sometimes spending all night watching over him. She accepted everything about him and he loved her all the more for it. He looked up to see Giles watching him again and was about to ask what was up when he saw it in the older man’s eyes.

It was a question, unspoken, but there none the less. ‘Do you know how lucky you are?’ Oz tilted his head, looking at Giles and after a minute, he smiled and nodded his head. Giles nodded once in return and went back to his book. Oz looked over at Willow and his smile grew. He really was a lucky man.

The End

Nightmares and Dreamscapes - Giles Gen Fic (PG)

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 02:27:58 GMT

This was another story written for a Still Grrr prompt. This one is for Surrealism. So, here is my effort a a surreal Rupert story.

Title: Nightmares and Dreamscapes
Author: Laura Tew
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Rupert, although I would buy him in a red second if he came up on E-bay. I don't own Buffy, Xander, or anything relating to these characters or their shows. All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and he hasn't given me permission to borrow anything. If you like the story, please let me know. If something about it bothers you, please send the complaints to my mailbox, not his.
Author's Notes: I'm not sure this story makes sense. It was, after all, written to be surreal. I hope you like it. It takes place at the beginning of season two. Thanks to Tony Head for making Rupert so much fun to write and thanks to Ann for being so great and for the beta.

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Rupert looked into the vampire’s eyes, seeing certain death. He could feel breath ghosting over his skin and was struck by how cold it felt.

And then he was falling, endlessly falling, as countless lives swirled around him, misty and bold. His whole body shook with the impact as he landed on the plush cushions of an antique chintz couch.

He looked around, struggling to get his bearings. A dark figure stood to the side and he tensed his body, preparing to fight for his life. It turned to face him and he was confused to see a woman in a floor length black dress with her dark hair in a severe bun. She looked at him with pleading eyes, her expression anguished.

“Where am I?” Rupert asked, rising from the couch.

“Where are you not?” she responded.

“I’m sorry?” Perhaps he simply misheard her.

“Don’t be sorry; be right. Only you can stop him from hurting her and ending the world.”

He frowned and walked towards her. Maybe if he were closer to her he could hear her better. He was within five feet of her when she was suddenly surrounded by light. Before he could really process that, she was gone and in her place was a glowing blue stone. Rupert bent to pick it up.

A noise made him look up, the smooth stone clutched in his hand. The world was dissolving into nothing, becoming shimmering specks of dust that spun around him like a tornado. He put his hands up to protect his face and suddenly he was standing in the library.

The children were there, sitting at the research table, reading books. Rupert blinked. He stepped forward, coming up behind Buffy.

“What are you all doing here at this time of night?” he asked.

“If you don’t know the way, I can’t help you, G-man,” Xander replied, not looking up from his book.

“If I…what are you talking about?”

“It all leads back to love,” Willow said quietly. “You shouldn’t have let her listen to him.”

“What in the name of holy Hell are you talking about?” Rupert asked, frustration making him terse.

“If you don’t know, who does?” Buffy asked.

He looked up to see Angel standing behind Willow, his face twisted into the features of the vampire.

“For a man with all the answers, you are truly dense,” Angel growled. “Your blindness and your soft heart will be the downfall of them all. And then I’m going to break you, Watcher.”

“I…” Rupert turned away from them, putting a hand to his head, starting to pace. “I don’t understand.”

He turned around to ask them for further clarification, only to find that he was no longer in the library. He was in a dark forest, surrounded by a swirling mist.

And then it was there again; the vampire with its glowing eyes and deadly fangs. He stepped back, alarmed at the way his mind seemed to slip slide. Why had it wandered at all?

The fog began to clear and suddenly he knew. He swallowed hard as he looked into the twisted faces of Buffy, Willow, and Xander. They smiled malevolently at him, spreading out to circle around him. His heart ached as he watched the people he loved the most…no, not them. The demons that had killed them. Mustn’t forget that. They were gone and he was left to fight a war that he couldn’t win. The lone survivor in this battle with pure evil. And really, what was he fighting for? Without his Slayer, what was left to win?

He took a deep breath and looked at Buffy.

“I was yours in life and I shall be yours forever.” The words came so easily to his lips.

“It’s good that you know your place,” Buffy hissed to him. “But what makes you think we want you?”

“But…you need me and I want all of you,” he replied.

“All I’ve ever wanted was your heart,” Buffy said. “Maybe I’ll just take that.”

She reached into his chest and waves of pain washed through him. She pulled her empty hand out and looked at him baffled.

“It’s not there!” she cried to him.

“Of course not,” he gasped, falling to his knees. “I gave it to all of you long ago.”

His hands began to shake. He felt the blue stone slipping from his fingers and he looked down to see it hit the ground and shatter into a million shards of light.

“You shouldn’t have let her listen to him,” Willow’s voice ghosted, surrounding him.

“You have to see the storm that’s coming,” Xander’s voice echoed. “Only you can stop it.”

“Love conquers all,” Buffy said as the light exploded around him, blinding him.

He could feel himself screaming, but he couldn’t hear it. And suddenly, he could, his voice sounding impossibly loud in the darkness. He was sitting up in his bed, screaming into the empty night.

He paused, drawing in a breath, panting from the terror coursing through him. His skin was slick with sweat and he was shaking as he looked around the room. It was just a dream. Only a dream. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and willing himself to relax. But he couldn’t get rid of the niggling feeling that this dream was trying to warn him about something. It wouldn’t be the first time.

With a sigh, he got out of bed and went downstairs to make tea.

The End

Lack of Participation

Wed, 23 Jan 2008 21:25:13 GMT

I've been entering icons in Giles Stills. (They have had some great icons entered. You like Rupert icons, go check them out. Heck, if you've ever made Rupert icons, you should give entering it a go!) Anywhom, a few weeks back the episode was Band Candy. I was asking the Moderator why we had no results on it yet. Seems no one went and voted, so they can't pick a winner. So I ask you, go to the page for Band Candy and vote!

Thanks,
Laura

I'm Having a Good Award Day!

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 22:55:31 GMT

Rupert and I are having a good award day! They just put up the award results for for Challenge 42 at Still Grrr . I rather thought that I'd won for long fiction, but I also got second place for my art! Now that was a shock!

Here are my awards. If you click on them, they link to what won.

For long fiction:

And for my art:

I have this silly grin now. :)

:::hugs:::
Laura

I Was Nominated For An Award!

Wed, 02 Jan 2008 22:23:36 GMT

Okay, check this out. I've been nominated for Best Giles story for the Serenity on the Hellmouth Awards!

My story, You Can Tell a Lot About a Person From Their Hot Water Heater has been nominated for round four. You can go here to see the list. The Giles stories are about halfway down the page.

I'll keep you updated as to how it works out!

Fic: May All Your Christmases Be White (Giles Gen - PG)

Mon, 17 Dec 2007 06:48:26 GMT

I wrote this for the 12 Days of Rupert and I thought I'd put up a copy here. I went a little different and added pictures. I hope you like it!

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Title: May All Your Christmases Be White
Author’s Name: Laura Tew
Rating: PG- 13 or FRT
Pairing: none
Warnings: None

Summary: A look at Rupert’s Christmases throughout the years

Disclaimer: This is where I put the statement saying that I do not own Buffy, Giles (although I would buy him in a second if
he came up on e-bay!), Sunnydale, or anything relating to the show. No one is paying me to do this and if you
feel the sudden urge to send me gifts, you might want to talk to someone about that. Joss Whedon owns all things
Buffy and has not given me permission to use these characters as I have so if you have problems with the story,
please send the pretzel bombs to me, not him.

Author’s Notes: I wrote this for the 12 Days of Rupert on LiveJournal. I wanted to do something Christmas themed and this is
what came to mind. In enjoyed looking at his Christmases over the years and I had to have a happy ending. I
hope you like it. Thanks need to be given, and here is where they go. Thanks to Joss for creating
characters so fun to watch and to borrow for a bit. Thanks to Tony Head for making Giles so amazing. I tried to
fight it, but he was just too remarkable not to fall for. To Ann for everything. I love you, dear! To Samuel for being Samuel. Thanks to my amazing husband who not only doesn’t get upset when my writing takes over, but who doesn’t freak about the men who live in my head. I love him so.

May All Your Christmases Be White

Rupert stood in the living room of his flat, looking around at the boxes that were scattered everywhere. He had been packing for the last two weeks and he was dismayed at how little progress he’d actually made. He had a week left before he had to be in California and the only things completely packed were his books. But he had taken today off from the packing, it being Christmas and all.

It was a formality really. He hadn’t properly celebrated the holiday since his mother died four years ago, but he had given himself a day off anyway. He’d spent his holiday reading, losing himself in the writings of Homer. He didn’t have much time for pleasure reading and he anticipated having less when he got to the States. He would be too busy learning to blend in to a high school faculty and training a Slayer.

This thought sent shivers of anticipation and worry through him. He had been shocked when the Council had informed him that he had been called as Watcher to the Slayer. With his less than stuffy past he had been sure he would never achieve that honor. But now that he had, he would do his best with it.

Rupert allowed himself to think for a moment on what his new life would be like. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t fit in with the Americans and he didn’t anticipate having many friends. But that wouldn’t matter. He would have his Slayer. He would train her, help her, guide her. He would be her mentor and possibly her friend. He knew the Council frowned on Watchers treating their slayers as equals, but Rupert intended to allow this girl as normal a life as possible. He would let her have friends, he would let her graduate high school, and he would let her celebrate holidays.

Idly he wondered if he would be spending next Christmas with her. He could teach her some of his British traditions, perhaps make her a real Christmas dinner. He knew she had a mother, but he was sure he could make this work for everyone. With a smile, he went off to the kitchen to make a sandwich for dinner. Yes, next year would be better indeed.

***********************************************************************************************************************************

Rupert stood in the living room of his flat, looking at the books scattered everywhere. He had spent all of yesterday searching for any mention of a particular demon that Buffy had encountered. Finally, at midnight, exhausted and slightly frantic, he had found a whole section on the creature. Killing the demon would be fairly easy and he immediately called Buffy, despite the lateness of the hour.

She had called him at three, telling him that the demon was dead and she was going to bed to get some sleep before she had to be opening Christmas presents in three hours. Rupert, who had waited up for her call, had been too relieved and too tired to clean up and had just fallen into bed. But habits being what they were, he hadn’t been able to sleep past seven.

Now, in the morning light from his window, he surveyed the damage. It looked like a bookstore had exploded, but he supposed it wouldn’t actually take much to straighten it up. He just really didn’t feel like doing it first thing on Christmas morning. Involuntarily, he looked at his kitchen pass through where a two foot tall Christmas tree was set up.

He of course hadn’t made any fuss for the holiday, hadn’t decorated. It wasn’t really his style. But, about three weeks earlier, Willow, Xander, and Buffy had been over and they had noticed his lack of Christmas cheer. Two days later they had shown up on his doorstep again. This time they had bags of decorations. He had stood off to the side, a smile on his face, watching as Willow and Xander had strung lights on the tiny tree and Buffy had draped garland around the room. He moved to put a Christmas record on the turntable before joining them.

Now, he smiled again as he looked at the presents under the little tree. It had been years since he’d received a Christmas present. This year he actually had about six of them. He supposed he should open them, but he didn’t want to rush through his holiday. After careful thought, he decided he would open a gift, clean up the living room, open another gift, eat breakfast, open another gift. That way he could spread it out over a time.

But first, he would make some tea. As he walked into the kitchen, he couldn’t help looking at the tree again. He remembered the year before, when he’d wondered what his life would hold. He could have never imagined the life he got, not that he was complaining. He had an amazing Slayer, a good job, and unexpected friends. Things might not have turned out as he planned, but he had to admit, he was actually happy, and really, what more could he ask for?

He turned away from the tree and put the kettle on the stove, but he couldn’t keep it from his thoughts for long. He turned on the stove burner and smiled to himself. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to open one gift while he waited for the water. He was curious about Willow’s gift. He’d overheard her talking to Xander and she’d said she’d ordered it from a website that specialized in British imports. Yes, he would open her gift first. That decided, he turned back to the tree and retrieved the present.

**************************************************************************************************************************

Rupert stood, looking out his window, completely stunned. Who would have ever believed it would snow in California? Yet, here he was, watching soft white flakes drift lazily down. The sky was a deep, cold grey and it fit his mood. He mentally berated himself for allowing Angel to affect him like this, but helping the man who had tortured him was not how Rupert had planned to spend his Christmas Eve.

However, Buffy had asked for his assistance and Rupert had learned that he could deny his Slayer nothing. And so, he had spent his evening researching the First evil. It would have been funny really, except being that close to Angel had brought out thoughts and emotions better left buried. After Buffy had gone to find the Bringers, Rupert had spent the rest of the night not only worrying about her, but fighting off vivid memories of being tied up and beaten.

And now, the cold grey morning did nothing to lessen his mood. Rupert turned from the window, trying to push away the darker thoughts. He tried to remind himself of all that was good in his life. He looked at the pass through, where his little tree was set up again, focusing on the image of Willow, Xander, and Buffy coming over and helping him decorate, of Willow baking cookies in his kitchen while Christmas music played in the background. He concentrated on his shopping trip with Xander, the two of them wondering what to get Buffy.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the thoughts away. He crossed the room, intending to get more tea, but stopped, hearing a voice that sounded loud enough to be standing beside him, though he knew it was in his head.

“Hey. How you holdin' up?” Angel had even sounded slightly concerned.

“Never... better.” His own voice sounded so weak to his ears.

“Glad to hear it. Now...Tell me when it hurts.”

Rupert closed his eyes, fighting to keep his panic in check, but he could feel his heart beating faster.

The doorbell rang and he just about jumped out of his skin, not knowing for a second if it was real or in his head. When it rang a second time, he walked to the door, opening it just enough to see who was there. Xander stood on his porch, his arms wrapped tightly around a bundle that he held to himself, shivering in the cold.

“What are you doing here?” Rupert asked, opening the door wider.

“Nice to see you too, G-man,” Xander replied. “Do I get to come in or do I have to freeze out here?”

Rupert wordlessly stepped back and Xander came in, stomping the snow off his shoes, just outside the door. As Rupert closed the door, Xander turned to him, putting his duffle bag on the floor.

“Can you believe it? It never snows in Sunnydale. I just about turned into a popsicle this morning.”

“You were out in this?” Rupert asked, walking to the kitchen to put water on for tea.

“Well, I was trying to sleep. Do you know what it’s like to sleep in the snow? Try putting your head in the freezer for a few hours.”

“I think I’ll pass on that,” Rupert replied with a smile, looking at Xander over the pass through. “What were you doing trying to sleep in the snow?”

“Oh, you know, my family was being…well, my family. It seemed safer to sleep in the yard.”

Rupert just looked at the boy. Whenever Xander talked of his home life Rupert had to fight the urge to have a little talk with the boy’s parents. Of course that would just end badly, but Xander deserved so much better.

“You needn’t sleep outside,” Rupert said gently. “You do know you are always welcome here.”

“Why do you think I’m in your living room at six o’clock on Christmas morning?” Xander asked with a pained smile. “My parents were still passed out and Christmas means that when they get up, the drinking will just start again. I know you’d rather be alone, but…”

“Nonsense,” Rupert replied as the kettle went off. “I would be happy for the company.”

“I see you haven’t opened your gifts yet,” Xander said, gesturing to the tree.

“Not yet,” Rupert answered, gathering up supplies and putting them on the tea tray. “And they can wait until later. It would be rude of me to open presents in front of you.”

“Yeah it would,” Xander said, with a grin, turning to retrieve his duffle bag. “That would be why I raided the tree and brought all my gifts with me.”

Rupert blinked a few times and laughed.

“It seems you’ve thought of everything,” he said, putting some muffins on the tray and taking it into the living room.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Xander asked, looking up, his eyes full of insecurities. “I mean, if you have plans…”

“Xander, I’ve told you that you are always welcome. I just hope you don’t mind sandwiches as your Christmas dinner. I hadn’t intended to fuss.”

“Hey, it’s better than the cold cocktail meatballs I was going to be eating. We don’t do the big dinner at my house.”

Rupert sat on his couch, settling back with his cup of tea, surprised to find that his mood had vastly improved. He looked at Xander, who was going on about some Christmas special on the television and smiled. He might get irritated with the boy, but he genuinely liked him.

“We should invite Willow over,” Xander said. “She likes Snoopy too. And I’m sure she’d be happy to share the sandwiches. Maybe after we open presents?”

“That sounds like a very good idea,” Rupert replied. He sipped his tea, thinking about how nice it felt to have a family again. Of all the things he could have asked for for Christmas, this was at the top of his list. His day was certainly looking up.

*************************************************************************************************************************************

Rupert sat, looking at the book on his lap, but not really seeing it. His mood was abysmal today and he felt completely foolish for letting it get the best of him. It was Christmas and he shouldn’t let the petty things bother him. But they did.

He sighed, closing the book and rising to go make some tea. His morning had been good enough, he supposed. He’d opened his presents, which he had gratefully received, and eaten breakfast. But his mood had deteriorated by the hour. It was now half past one and he was seriously considering going back to bed.

It wasn’t that he expected them to spend the holiday with him, but was it too much to ask for a phone call or some sort of acknowledgement? After they had spent Thanksgiving together, he had hopes for a nice Christmas. But he hadn’t heard from any of them in almost a week. Not that this was unusual these days.

He frowned, looking over at the pass through, trying not to notice how bare it looked without the tree. He had expected that one of them would say something about the lack of decorations in his flat, as they always did. But the few times he had seen them, none of them had paid enough attention to realize and he hadn’t had the heart to decorate by himself.

Rupert told himself that he needed to let them grow up and have lives of their own, but it sounded too much like “grow up and leave the old man behind” to him. He sat down with his tea, feeling old and obsolete. This wasn’t the life he’d gotten used to, it wasn’t the life he wanted. Perhaps things would be better if he did leave them on their own. He could go back to England and pick his life up again. The thought hurt almost as much as a physical blow and that surprised him. He wasn’t one to get emotional, but these children had become such a part of his world. Maybe that was a side effect of fighting side by side with them for these last few years, but then again, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was finally being needed, wanted, appreciated for his knowledge and talents. And now that it was at an end, perhaps it would be better to move on.

He sighed deeply, putting the tea on the coffee table. That nap was looking better by the minute. He could only hope that a little sleep would make things look brighter. He wasn’t sure he could take another year like this one.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

“Damn it! I hate this oven. It burnt.” Joyce said, from somewhere behind him. He could hear her slamming the oven and placing the pie on the kitchen island.

“Oh, no, it's just blackened, you know, it's, it's Cajun pie.” Buffy replied, her amusement barely contained.

Rupert turned to look at them, a bottle of wine in his hands. He smiled at Joyce, holding up the bottle.

“Shall I open another?”

“Oh, do you think we dare?” she replied, returning the smile.

“As long as you two stay away from the band candy, I'm cool with anything.” Buffy interjected, a mischievous grin on her face.

Rupert could feel the blush creeping up his face and he looked down at the counter. He was grateful that Joyce had finally gotten past the awkwardness between them and was allowing him back in the house. He was not sure of the wisdom in Buffy reminding her why he had been shunned in the first place. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and Rupert looked up. Joyce made a face at Buffy.

“You are a demon child,” she said, hiding a smile.

“I live to torment you, is that so wrong?”

“A daughter's duty, I suppose,” Joyce replied, rolling her eyes toward Rupert and kissing Buffy on the forehead.

Buffy turned back to the pie, picking up a knife and frowning.

“Look, all we have to do is just cut off a little bit of the burnt...” Her hand slipped and the whole pie crashed to the floor.

Joyce looked horrified as Buffy stuttered an apology. Rupert reached out, putting a gentle hand on Buffy’s arm.

“It’s fine,” he said, smiling. “We didn’t really need dessert anyway.”

Both women gave him identical looks, as if he had just committed blasphemy, and he broke out laughing. He couldn’t help it. After a minute, they looked a bit sheepish and joined him in his amusement.

“Well, Xander did say he was just this side of sick,” Buffy said, stifling her giggles. “Maybe we can just move on to the gift opening?”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Rupert replied, stooping to help her clean up the pie. “And if anyone wishes to have dessert after that, there are always the cookies you made yesterday.”

“Oh! I’d forgotten those,” Buffy replied. “Does that work, mom?”

“Do I have a choice?” she asked.

“Nope.” Buffy’s grin was unrepentant. “It’s cookies or nothing.”

When they had finished with the clean up, everyone moved into the living room to open presents. Rupert sat at the end of the couch watching the others, enjoying being here with all of them. Last year he had come so close to giving up and going back to England, but he was glad he’d stayed. This year had been so much better. Their little family was closer, supporting each other, spending time together. He had always known he would die for these people; in the last year he had discovered that he lived for them as well. And they had made him a part of their world, sharing the ups and downs of everyday life. And after all, isn’t that what family did?

“Hey Giles,” Buffy said, sitting next to him. “You aren’t opening any of your presents.”

“I already have everything I want,” he replied, reaching out and taking her hand. She gently squeezed, smiling.

“Well, yes, but I still spent two hours fighting mall crowds to get your gift, so open it anyway?”

He laughed, taking the brightly wrapped box from her. He noticed at the edge of his vision that the others were moving closer. He looked up to see that Dawn had settled at his other side, happily chatting with Xander, who had moved to the floor next to the couch. Willow and Tara had moved to an over stuffed chair a few feet away, snuggling together while laughing at something Anya had said. Joyce had come into the room, smiling shyly at him as she sat on the couch arm next to Buffy. As Rupert began to unwrap Buffy’s gift, he sighed in contentment. This is how all holidays should be; everyone healthy and happy, enjoying just being together. He was pretty sure days didn’t get better than this.

********************************************************************************************************************************

Rupert sat in an over stuffed chair in front of a blazing fire, holding a phone and staring deeply into the flames. He looked up at the clock above the mantel, noting that it was only half past eight in the morning. He’d been sitting here for the last half an hour debating whether it was too late to call. He did another quick calculation, sighing as he determined that it was after midnight in California. They might still be up, but he couldn’t be sure and he didn’t want to wake them. He decided it would be better to wait until this afternoon, when he knew they would all be up at the crack of a California morning, opening their Christmas presents.

He knew they’d received the box he’d sent; Dawn had called when they’d gotten it. She had chatted with him while she put the gifts under the tree. The box sent from Sunnydale had arrived yesterday, although Rupert hadn’t unpacked it. It wasn’t as if he had a tree to put the presents under this year.

It had been his choice to come back to England, yet he questioned the wisdom of it every day. He hated being so far from them, hated not being a part of their lives anymore. But, it had seemed to be what was best for his Slayer, and so he had left his life behind and come here. He frowned, still looking into the flames. It hadn’t been what he wanted and it had the opposite effect he’d hoped for. Buffy wasn’t getting along better without him; she resented him for leaving her and was barely speaking to him.

Rupert wondered if it was too late to grab a flight back home. If he left now he might still get to spend Christmas with them. He even went so far as to pick up the phone to call the airlines, but then he put it down again as a new thought stole his breath. They wouldn’t want him there. He’d only been gone for a couple of months, but their lives had moved on and he was no longer a part of their family.

He sat back down in the chair, suddenly feeling weak as the reality hit him. In trying to do what was right for his family, he had lost them. He was 5000 miles from everything he loved and he was truly, irrevocably alone. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying desperately to ignore the pain that was washing over him. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes. He looked at his morning tea cooling next to him, suddenly feeling the need for something stronger.

Two hours later he marveled that he could still feel the pain through the haze his world had become, frowning as he spilled some of the Scotch from his glass. His head was spinning and he felt slightly nauseous, and yet, he still felt the emptiness eating at him. He considered another drink, but on realizing that he couldn’t even focus on the bottle anymore, decided a nap might be better. He could always pick up right where he left off tomorrow.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

Rupert stood quietly watching the flurry of activity around him. He stifled a yawn, realizing how tired he was. It had been a long few months of frantic runs around the world fighting Bringers, praying he wasn’t too late to save the girls. There had been so many nights of fear and disappointment, never knowing what would come next or even what time zone he was in. He needed some time off, although he’d never admit it. This year Christmas seemed a convenient time to stop and catch his breath.

Rupert found a chair and settled back, watching as Buffy handed out gifts. It was still fairly early, but as usual, everyone had been up since dawn. Rupert had tried to sleep in, but Willow and Buffy had insisted he get up and join the “fun”, so now he sat, struggling to keep his eyes open while he watched fifteen shy teenaged girls in pajamas opening gifts.

Two days ago, Buffy, Xander, and Rupert had gone out and purchased some presents for the girls. Rupert had used his Council credit card to pay for the spree. He’d been surprised it still worked with the Council gone. His conscience fussed at him a bit, wondering who would pay for it all, but he’d pushed it to the side; these girls needed something normal after what they’d been through.

“Hey, big guy,” Xander said, pulling up a chair next to Rupert. “You look tired.”

Rupert just nodded at him.

“Well, you have been working hard,” Xander said, looking at him.

“We all have. I only hope it’s enough.”

“Hey, no more gloomy talk. It’s our day off.”

Rupert was nodding again when it occurred to him how appropriate Xander’s statement was. Today was a day off; from work. Not a day spent with family and friends, but a day where he didn’t have to work. He looked at Buffy, watching her laugh at something Willow said and he realized what was missing in his life. He had come back to Sunnydale, was living in Buffy’s house, but he was still an outsider. He worked with them, nothing more. The closeness they had shared for so long was gone. He sighed.

“Everything okay?” Xander asked, looking at him oddly.

“I’m just very tired. I think I’ll go back to bed.”

He stood up and left the room, almost hoping someone would stop him, tell him they wanted him there. But no one did and his exhaustion won out. He settled into his bed, closing his eyes, feeling weary in so many ways.

*************************************************************************************************************************************

Rupert stood to the side, watching the chaos around him. He had to admit the room looked wonderful, lights and pine branches taking away some of the gloom that came with the castle in which they now lived. Then again, sixty Slayers and twenty Watcher trainees did a lot to stem that off as well. Right now, as Rupert watched, everyone was gathered in the common room around the tree, while Xander and Willow handed out gifts.

He felt her walk up beside him, but he didn’t turn to look at her.

“Why are you hiding over here?” Buffy asked, moving to stand next to him.

“I’m not hiding. I’m simply…watching.”

“I suppose that’s a suitable activity for the new head of the Watchers’ Council.” She was smiling at him.

“Why aren’t you opening your gifts?” he asked her, turning to look back at the group around the tree.

“I did open a couple,” she replied, moving closer to him. “And then I realized something important was missing.”

“What would that be?”

“You.”

He turned to look at her, an eyebrow arched.

“You are a big part of our family,” she said, reaching out and taking his hand. “You always have been. I might not have always been grateful for everything you’ve done, everything you’ve given up for us, but I think I finally get it.”

Rupert smiled at her. These last few months had brought them back together, made them realize how much they needed each other. For Rupert, it had meant getting his family back. Now he looked down at his Slayer, the woman that had shaped his life for bad and for good, and he lightly squeezed her hand.

“Come over and join us?” She asked.

“If you’re sure I wouldn’t be in the way.”

“You could never be in the way.”

He kept a hold of her hand as they walked back to join the others and Rupert took stock of his life. He had a wonderful family who loved him and whom he would do anything for. It had been a long, hard road to get here and there were times he wondered if it was worth it. But now, as he looked around at the people he loved the most, he knew unquestioningly that it was.

The End.

Happy Holidays!!!

Scary Amounts of Pictures and Icons!

Sat, 08 Dec 2007 15:52:34 GMT

Hey all! For some reason the Rupert in my head has just been pushy this week. I think he's feeling unloved and ignored. Either that or Ann and I have totally spoiled him. (grin) Anywhom, here are the icons and pictures that came out of my week of intense Watcher time. :) Hope you like them! (Feel free to take and use any of them. Sharing the Rupert love is all good.)

Icons:

Pictures:

Fanart Experiment

Fri, 30 Nov 2007 21:24:20 GMT

Here are a few things I was working on today. Not sure what I think. Opinions are welcome. (Thanks to Ann for the support!) Click on the two pictures to see bigger copies.

<-- This is the original



   <--- This is the Original

Fic: Doomed and Defeated (Giles - PG or FRT)

Wed, 28 Nov 2007 09:02:00 GMT

Title: Doomed and Defeated
Author: Laura Sichrovsky
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG or FRT
Pairing: None
Warnings: None that I can think of.
Season: Takes place in season three.

Summary: Rupert finds another prophecy telling him Buffy is going to die. Get’s a little old after a while, doesn’t it?
He thinks so.

Spoilers: Gives away the season one finale ending.

Disclaimer: This is where I put the statement saying that I do not own Buffy, Rupert Giles (Although I’d buy him in a second
                    if he came up on e-bay.), Sunnydale, or anything relating to the show. No one is paying me to do this and if you
                    feel the sudden urge to send me gifts, you might want to talk to someone about that. Joss Whedon owns all things
                    Buffy and has not given me permission to use these characters as I have so if you have problems with the story,
                    please send the pretzel bombs to me, not him.

Author’s Notes: This is yet another Still Grrr prompt. We were given episode titles and told to use the words as inspiration.
                            The one for this was Doomed. I began to think about Rupert being doomed and this is where I ended up.
                            Thanks need to be given, and here is where they go. Thanks to Joss for creating characters so fun to watch
                             and to borrow for a bit. Thanks to Tony Head for making Giles so amazing. I tried to fight it, but he was just
                             too remarkable not to fall for. Every time I see Rupert it just gets deeper and I owe Tony for giving me that.
                            To Jess, Jen, and Michelle for the betas. I appreciate it! To Ann for everything. You are the best and you’ll
                             never know how much I love you, dear! To Samuel for being Samuel. The biggest thanks go to my amazing
                             husband who not only doesn’t get upset when my writing takes over, but who doesn’t freak about the men who
                             live in my head. I love him so.

Doomed and Defeated

“And the Slayer shall be defeated by the Son of Darkness. Her blood will be his to drink and with this, shall darkness reign.”

Giles brought a hand to his forehead, gently rubbing along his brow bone. He’d read this prophecy front to back, start to finish, and it continued to say the same thing. A new evil was going to rise to challenge the Slayer and this time Buffy would lose.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, which was already standing in different directions from earlier versions of this same frustration. He wasn’t looking forward to telling her, but she needed to know. She would ask him if there was a way around it and he would have to tell her that he couldn’t find one, that this book of prophecy was never wrong. He closed his eyes against the memories of when he’d discovered that she would die at the hands of the Master. He briefly wondered if she would throw books at him this time.

Giles opened his eyes, staring at his completely useless hands. He was failing her again. She would be angry, would blame him. His heart would ache, watching her suffer so. But, Buffy being Buffy, in the end, she would most likely find a way to change her fate. And in a week’s time, Giles would be back searching his books for the next mention of her demise.

And it was that thought that stopped him. He looked at the book in front of him, the pages now seeming too heavy to turn. There was no escaping it. For the rest of his life he would be the one to read what horror was in store for Buffy, for the world. He would have to see the pain and sadness in her eyes, would have to worry as she went to face it. He would feel relief as she returned to him, and then he would have to start all over again, combing through musty old books, looking for the next reason for her to hate him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly exhausted, as the truth of it hit him. This was his life, his destiny, and it always would be. Buffy would find ways around prophecy, but he would always be fated to find the next portent of death and destruction. He alone would bear the burden, time after time, of seeing what grisly end awaited his Slayer. He alone was privileged to an endless list of dark warnings.

He reached out and closed the book, unable to look at it anymore. It wasn’t as if he had to; he knew its warning by heart. He knew it so well that it would follow him into his dreams, just as each one did, every night. He couldn’t even remember what it was like not to wake up screaming. And in the morning, he would sit back down again and start over. After all, it was his destiny. It was his calling. It was his doom.

He stood and turned his back on the scattered piles of traitorous books, his shoulders slumping. Weighed down by exhaustion and despair, he went up to bed.

The End

Question Thing

Mon, 26 Nov 2007 17:43:08 GMT

My friend Ann had this posted to her site, so I thought I'd do it too. Here are the instructions: Paste this into your journal and then place an X by all the things you've done and remove the X from the ones you have not.

( ) Smoked a cigarette

( ) Drank so much you threw up

(x ) Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back

( X) Been arrested (accused and charged, not booked)

( ) Gone on a blind date

( x) Skipped school

(x) Watched someone die (pets are someones, too)

(X) Been to Canada

( X) Been to Mexico

(x) Been to Florida (I live there)

(x) Been on a plane

(x) Been lost

(X) Gone to Washington, DC

(x) Swam in the ocean

(x) Felt like dying

(x) Cried yourself to sleep

( ) Played cops and robbers

(x) Recently colored with crayons.

(x) Sang karaoke

( x) Paid for a meal with only coins

(x) Done something you told yourself you wouldn't?

( x) Made prank phone calls.

( x) Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose

(x) Caught a snowflake on your tongue and made snow angels too

(x) Danced in the rain

(x) Written a letter to Santa Claus

(x) Been kissed under the mistletoe

(X) Watched the sunrise with someone you care about

(x) Blown bubbles

( X) Made a bonfire on the beach?

( ) Crashed a party

( x) Gone ice-skating

(X) Been skinny dipping outdoors

(x) Gone to the movies

1. Any nicknames? Not really. My father calls me "Little one". Does that count? (My sister is the "Big one". Glad I'm not.)

2. Mother's name? Dolores

3. Favorite drink? Dragonfruit Vitamin Water
4. Tattoos? None. I'm terrified of needles.

5. Body Piercings? Just one in each ear. See above.

6. How much do you love your job? I write and take care of children. I love doing both things very much.
7. Birthplace? Hinsdale, Illinios, United States.

8. Favorite vacation spot? Vacation? What is that?

9. Ever been to Africa? Nope. Don't want to. Hate bugs bigger than I am.
10. Ever eaten cookies for dinner? Doesn't everyone?

11. Ever been on TV? When I was 8.

12. Ever steal any traffic sign? No. Where would I put it?
13. Ever been in a car accident? Actually, no. I never have.
14. Drive a 2-door or 4-door vehicle? 3? I have a minivan. 2 doors and a sliding side door?

15. Favorite salad dressing? Ranch or Asian Sesame.

16. Favorite pie? I don't like pie.

17. Favorite number? 24. Have no idea why.

18. Favorite movie? The Cutting Edge
19. Favorite holiday? Halloween
20. Favorite dessert? Something chocolate.
21. Favorite food? Chinese.

22. Favorite day of the week? Saturday

23. Favorite brand of body wash? Vanilla Lavendar.

24. Favorite toothpaste? Something minty.

Not sure what any of this says about me, but there it is. :)

Fic: Don't Ever Leave Me Again (Giles and Buffy Gen - PG or FRT)

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 05:32:58 GMT

Title: Don’t Ever Leave Me Again
Author: Laura Sichrovsky
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: PG or FRT
Pairing: None
Warnings: None that I can think of.
Season: Takes place across all the seasons.

Summary: This is just a little look at Buffy and Giles and the love they feel for each other, no matter what form it comes in.

Spoilers: Takes a scene from each season.

Author’s Notes: Yet another Still Grrr prompt. This one was to use the title from season seven’s Never Leave Me. This is what
                             came to mind. I could see how their relationship changed over the years and the things that changed them. Hope
                             you like it. Thanks need to be given, and here is where they go. Thanks to Joss for creating characters so fun to
                             watch and to borrow for a bit. Thanks to Tony Head for making Giles so amazing. I tried to fight it, but he was
                             just too remarkable not to fall for. To Jen, Laura (God save the Queen!), Michelle, and Jess for the betas.
                             I appreciate it! To Ann for everything. I love you, dear! To Samuel for being Samuel. Thanks to my amazing
                             husband who not only doesn’t get upset when my writing takes over, but who doesn’t freak about the men who
                             live in my head. I love him so.

Special Note: Still_Grrr requires that fiction submissions stay under 2000 words. This one kind of took on a life of it's own and ended up at 3900+ words. So, I cut and changed. The point of this note is to let you know there is a shorter version of this with sadder ending. It can be found Here. Hope you enjoy!

Don’t Ever Leave Me Again

Rupert Giles stood in his office facing his Slayer. She looked surprisingly well for someone who had died the night before. It was after school hours and as there wasn’t a current apocalypse or an impending mid-term, they were the only two in the deserted library. The only reason Buffy was there was because Rupert asked her to meet with him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, he just knew he needed to say *something* to ease the tension he’d been feeling since he discovered that the Master had indeed killed the Slayer.

Rupert had spent all afternoon thinking up little speeches, some way to tell her what was in his head and heart. But now that she was here, he found he had no words. He paced a bit, looking back at her as he did so and he cleaned his glasses twice, noticing that his hands were shaking. The whole time she just stood there watching him in a disconcerting reversal of their roles.

He turned to face her again, determined to say something, anything to loosen the tightening sensation in his chest when he thought of her lifeless body and how close he came to being forcibly freed of his job as her Watcher. He looked into her eyes, resolved to overcome his British reserve and tell her how he felt.

“Buffy, don’t ever leave me again.” It wasn’t what he’d intended to say, wasn’t anything like the flowery speeches in his head, but he did feel better. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“I take it this has to do with my rise from the dead?” She was making a joke of it, but he could hear the tension in her voice.

“Buffy,” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“Don’t worry about it, Giles. If something happens to me, another Slayer is called, right?”

“I don’t want another Slayer.” She looked at him oddly, but he continued. “Buffy, this isn’t about Watchers and Slayers; it’s about you and me.”

Now she was really looking at him strangely and he didn’t blame her. His words did sound rather like a sexual come on.

“Buffy you are far more to me than the Slayer.” He tried to make her understand. “You are special to me. I care for you. Why do you think I was willing to face the Master for you? You are more than my responsibility, you are my friend. And while the Council may send me another Slayer, I cannot do this without you. I wouldn’t want to try.”

He knew it was an emotional declaration, but he didn’t care; she needed to know she was more than a weapon to him. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but she stayed silent, looking at the floor. Giles sighed, wondering if he had gone too far in telling her this. He realized as he looked at her that his words didn’t bother her, but the serious tone of them did. He smiled at his Slayer.

“Buffy, all I ask is that you be careful. Xander cannot always be relied upon to be there to perform CPR.”

She looked up at him and returned his smile. He could see in her eyes that she knew what he was saying, and more importantly, what he wasn’t.

“Got it, Giles. From now on I’m Careful Buffy.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Then shall we go out for ice cream to celebrate your return from the dead?” He felt slightly morbid wording it that way, but her answering grin convinced him he’d said the right thing.

“If you are buying, I’m there!”

They walked out of the library together, talking lightly of unimportant things.

*************************************

Buffy felt the smoke stinging her eyes and throat, pulling a cough from her lungs. She felt the rumble of a corresponding cough from the man in her arms and relief flooded through her. He was alive and that was something. She pulled Giles through the door and into the alley at the side of the warehouse, stumbling slightly under his weight.

Once they were clear of the building, she felt him straining against her, struggling to put distance between them. She let him go, thinking he wanted to stand on his own and was startled as he practically threw himself away from her. He whipped around to face her, his eyes flashing anger.

“Why did you come here? This wasn’t your fight!” His voice was furious and he half turned, looking longingly towards the burning building.

Tears pricked Buffy’s eyes as she saw the depth of his pain. She wanted to go to him, tell him it would get better, but she felt a wave of panic as he looked like he might just go back into the building. In a flash of insight, she understood that he did want to go back in, that he never wanted to come out. She knew she had to stop him from hurting himself until he could think clearly, so she did the unthinkable, balling up her fist and slamming it into his jaw. He fell to the pavement, not even looking up at her, his shoulders slumped. She felt her heart constrict as she thought of losing him, and let loose an angry tirade on him.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Her voice was harsh, nearly hysterical and tears were running freely down her face.

He still wouldn’t look up at her, but she could see his shoulders shaking and she dropped to her knees, pulling him into her arms. She expected him to pull away and was surprised when he wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her desperately. She could feel his body trembling and knew that he was crying, his pain so deep that there was no sound, no tears. She pulled him close and soothed him, her hand running along his back.

After a while, his sobs died down and she looked at him, not sure what to say, but needing to ease the tight panic in her chest. She said the only thing that came to mind.

“Don’t ever leave me again.” She was startled as she recalled when he said those same words to her so many months ago. “You are special to me. I care for you. You are my Watcher and my friend. They may send me another Watcher, but I can’t do this without you. I wouldn’t want to try.”

He looked up at her and now there were tears in his eyes. He pulled her close again, resting his head on her shoulder and she could feel the wetness on her skin.

“All I ask, Giles is that you be careful.”

She felt him chuckle lightly, his breath warm on her neck, and she knew everything would be as all right as it could be on a Hellmouth. She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes.

“Let’s go home?”

He simply nodded.

****************************

Giles was sitting at his desk, reading through his mail, hoping for some hint of what happened to his Slayer. He expected that she might need some time to herself after having to kill the man she loved, but he had been horrified when he realized that she was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know if she was dead or alive, although he suspected that she was alive somewhere; he had to believe that.

He’d spent the last three months looking for her, crossing the country to follow even the slimmest of leads, and being disappointed every time. But he knew he couldn’t stop looking. She was out there somewhere and she needed him to find her.

Giles sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. There was nothing in today’s mail that was going to help him As usual, he was on his own. He was just considering a cup of tea or perhaps something stronger when he heard a knock on his door.

He expected it to be Xander and Willow. They had been checking on him all summer, making sure he was healing well and hadn’t given into despair. He opened the door, prepared to greet them warmly, but his words died on his lips. Xander spoke first, although Giles had no idea what he was saying; it was a meaningless jumble to his ears as he focused only on his Slayer, who was standing in front of him, looking worried. After a minute he realized that Xander was still talking.

“Thank you, Xander,” he said, cutting off any further babbling. He looked at the girl in front of him. “Welcome home, Buffy.”

She smiled at him and he stepped back, opening the door wider in silent invitation. He had a solid rule of never verbally inviting anyone into his home; this was a Hellmouth after all. He got them all settled, then went off to make tea. While the water boiled he made small talk with them, wanting to know everything that had happened in her life, but afraid to ask.

He’d just gotten to asking her how things with her mother were when the tea kettle went off and he left to take care of it. He could hear them talking, joking, and he felt such relief and happiness that he simply stood in the kitchen for a minute, smiling and drinking it in. She was back and she was safe. What more could he ask for?

He leaned his head against the cupboard, closing his eyes and just listening. After a minute, he heard the murmur of voices, low and serious, and then the light chatter picked up again. This time Xander’s voice was the dominant one.

“Are you okay?” Her voice startled him and he turned to find her standing in his kitchen, looking at him.

“I’m fine,” he said with a smile. “I’m just relieved you are back.”

“Me too,” she replied quietly, her face serious.

He looked at her, wanting to take her in his arms, but lacking the courage. They stood for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Then she looked at him.

“Well, I guess I’ll go back to the others.”

He heard something in her voice, something asking him for more than this. He took a step towards her.

“Buffy?” She turned back to him. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

She smiled at him, taking a step closer.

“Not liking the Slaying gig?” she asked with a grin.

“No I don’t. I..I can’t do this without you.”

“Wouldn’t want to try?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Exactly so.”

She nodded, turning and walking back into his living room. He picked up the tea tray and followed her.

********************************************

Buffy sat, looking down at Giles. He was kneeling in front of her, holding a cold wet cloth to her head. The look on his face was one of total anguish and she knew that he was sorry for what he had done. She wanted to forgive him, she really did, but his actions had put her mother in danger. She was angry at him and then she was angry at herself for being upset at him. She let out a frustrated sigh. Giles pulled the cloth away and looked up at her.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Buffy almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. Her face must have shown what she was thinking, as he replaced the cloth and looked at the floor.

“Buffy, I am so sorry. I will do anything to make this up to you. Just tell me what you want.”

She looked down at him. What she wanted was for none of this to have happened, for Giles to still be Giles, for them all to be safe. But none of that was an option. She wanted to forgive him, but that wasn’t in his power to grant; she alone would have to do that. She reached out and took his hand.

“What do I want?”

He nodded at her, his eyes silently pleading.

“I want…Giles, don’t ever leave me again.” He blinked at her, his confusion obvious. “The man who poisoned me, who hurt my mother, who put my life in danger wasn’t my Watcher; he wasn’t you. I never want to see that man again. You are my friend and I trust you. Promise me I’ll never have to deal with that man.”

“I promise, Buffy,” he said, gently squeezing her hand. “The Council can go hang. I am yours, your Watcher, your friend and I am loyal to you.”

She nodded.

“Good, ‘cause I can’t do this without you.”

“You wouldn’t want to try?” he asked quietly.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“I should get you home,” Giles said, rising to his feet and pulling her with him. “You need some rest.”

She simply nodded, following him out of the library.

*******************************************

“No. It’s not safe for any of us.” At the sound of Buffy’s voice Giles turned to face her. She was standing, her fists clenched at her side, her breathing strained. He looked at the expression on her face and he knew something grave had happened. She sighed. “So Maggie sends me down into the sewers with one of those blasto guns and the next thing I know it’s raining monsters.”

“You’re saying that Maggie Walsh set you up?” Giles asked, feeling a chill go through him.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. She sent me on a one way recon.”

Spike got involved in the conversation and Giles ceased to follow it really. He was watching Buffy, realizing that he might have lost her today. They had drifted so far apart recently and as much as he wanted to blame her completely, he knew he shared some of the blame. He didn’t want to push, wanted to give her freedom, and so he hadn’t insisted she train, hadn’t fulfilled his self imposed duties as her Watcher. He knew something had to change; he just hoped it wasn’t too late.

Her idea to hide at Xander’s was a good one and a few hours later they were all settling into the boy’s basement. Giles wasn’t thrilled with the venue, but he was pleased Buffy was safe. He knew this betrayal had hurt her deeply. He saw her standing to the side, watching everyone else and he went to join her.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he walked up beside her. She turned to look at him, her eyebrow arched.

“What kind of question is that? We are hiding in Xander’s basement. I’m pretty sure things are not all right.”

“I didn’t ask about things. I asked about you.” He saw pain in her eyes, and then it was gone as the mask she’d worn all year slipped back into place. “Buffy, please don’t do that, don’t hide from me.”

She looked at him, then looked away just as quickly.

“And what should I do? What will make this better?”

“I’m not sure anything can,” Giles answered seriously. “But pulling away from your friends, from me isn’t helping.”

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to see you all hurt.”

“Buffy, it started long before this. You walked out of my life from the moment you started University. I thought we meant more to each other than this.”

“We do.” She looked back up at him and he saw tears in her eyes. “I was letting you have a life, just like you let me have one.”

“What would make you think I wanted a life without you in it?”

“It was just…after I saw you with Olivia, I realized that you deserve something nice and normal too, so I tried to give it to you.”

“Buffy, the next time you try to give me a gift, either consult with me or make sure I can return it?”

She laughed, leaning closer to him, her shoulder brushing against his.

“I will. I’m so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just promise me something.”

“What?” She looked at him, smiling.

“Don’t ever leave me again. No matter how hard things get, no matter how much you think I don’t want to face this fight, remember that you can come to me. Otherwise we both fight alone and I can’t do this without you.”

“Wouldn’t want to try,” Buffy said quietly, one of the tears slipping down her cheek.

“No, I don’t,” Giles acknowledged, reaching out and brushing the tear away. “Shall we join the others before all the good spots to sleep are taken?”

Buffy nodded and followed him over to where the rest of the group was talking.

************************************

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said, her voice barely a whisper. She looked down at Giles, taking in the blood and dirt on his face and his labored breathing. She bit her lip, fighting back tears.

“For what?” He asked, working to focus his eyes on her.

“We should have stayed. If we had, none of this would have happened.” She wanted to tell him how sorry she was that their lives had come to this, hiding from a Hell God in the desert. She wanted to tell him that he couldn’t die, not here, not like this. She reached out and took his hand.

“Don’t.” His face contorted in pain and he gasped. “What you did…w-was necessary…what I’ve always admired.”

Tears were streaming down her face now and she felt the need to say something to break the suffocating fear that had enveloped her.

“The running away?” She smiled at him.

“Being able to…place your…heart above all else.” He looked so pale, his breath coming in short gasps and she swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far. You are everything a Watcher…everything I could have hoped for.”

He made a pained face and closed his eyes. She looked at their entwined hands, her body shaking with her silent sobs. His breathing became more labored and he opened his eyes, looking up at her. She saw in them his love for her, his pride in the woman she’d become. She also saw that he was saying goodbye and she clutched his hand harder.

“Giles no.” She now made no attempt to hide her tears. “You can’t die, you can’t go. You promised. Please, don’t ever leave me again. I…I can’t do this without you.”

She felt his hand tighten around hers and she looked into his eyes.

“You…wouldn’t want…to try?” His voice was rough and weak.

“I refuse to try,” she answered firmly. “You have to stay with me. Promise me.”

“I…promise to try.” He drew in a ragged breath, looking up at her.

“You rest,” she said, gently touching his face. “We’ll get out of this yet.”

“I know you will,” He replied, his eyes closing as sleep claimed him.

She touched his face again and turned.

“Willow, open a door.”

************************************************

Giles stood alone in the gathering darkness, looking at the ground. He wanted to say something, anything that would ease the crushing pain he felt, but no words would come to him. He looked down at her gravestone, taking in her name and the inscription that was unique, just as she was. He watched in fascination as the letters blurred, barely noticing the tears that ran down his face.

It had been two long months since Buffy had jumped from the tower; two long months of empty days and endless nights. Two months of nightmares, seeing her fall again and again, knowing he could do nothing to save her. Two months of a painful existence, of drinking himself into a stupor to survive. Two eternal months of trying to live a life without her in it.

“Oh, Buffy, I miss you so.” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper. “You were my friend, my family. You shouldn’t have left me again. I cannot do this without you.”

The rest of the familiar ritual went unsaid, lost in the echoing silence as she wasn’t there to complete it and he fell to his knees, sobbing.

************************************

“I have to,” Giles said quietly, looking down at his hands. Buffy was quiet for a minute.

“Uh-huh,” she said, her voice sounding distant. She moved from her place beside the couch to sit on a pile of workout mats. Frowning, she looked up at him. What was he saying? Why was he saying it?

“You have to be strong. I…I’m trying to,” But she didn’t give him time to finish.

“You are trying to what? Desert me? Abandon me? Leave me alone just when I need you most?”

“I don’t want to leave.” She could hear the pain in his voice and it angered her all the more.

“So don’t,” she said, moving to sit next to him. “Don’t go. You are my family, my friend. I need you. Please, Giles, don’t ever leave me again. I can’t do this without you.”

She looked at him expectantly, but he continued to stare at his hands, unwilling or unable to complete their ritual.

“Giles?” Her voice was tinged with doubt.

“I think it’s the right thing to do,” he said quietly.

She felt as if her world were falling apart. Everything she trusted, everything she needed was gone. She rose to her feet and looked at him, her eyes narrowed.

“You’re wrong.” With that she turned her back and walked away.

******************************************

Giles stood, looking out at the endless expanse of desert around him. He closed his eyes, breathing in the dry air, willing himself to relax. It had been twelve hours since they fled the hole that had been Sunnydale. He still had a very long drive ahead of him and his shoulders were knotted from the hours he’d already driven. He heard a noise behind him and opened his eyes, turning to find Buffy walking up behind him.

“Are you ready to go?” She asked, shading her eyes against the setting desert sun.

“I suppose so.” Giles wiped his hands on his pants, looking at her. “Which direction are we driving?”

“We really need to decide where we are going, don’t we?” Buffy asked with a sigh.

“We?” He focused on her eyes, trying to read her emotions.

“Of course we,” she replied, smiling at him. “Giles, I might have gotten upset at you, but nothing has really changed. I still have this big responsibility and I still need you. You are my friend, my family.”

He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes and quickly looked away. He had been so sure she’d meant it when she told him she didn’t need him anymore. He was surprised at the depth of his relief at her words.

“You…I thought you would want to make the decision on your own,” He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at her.

“I told you, I need you. You can’t ever leave me again, Giles. I can’t do this without you.”

“Wouldn’t want to try?” He asked, smiling.

“I did try. That’s how I know that we need each other.”

For a moment he was stunned, just looking at her, her words sinking in. And then he stepped forward, taking her hand in his.

“We should go. We need to find a hotel for the night that will take so many of us.”

She nodded, following him to the bus, not taking her hand from his as they went off to face the future together.

The End