Title: Going Back 8/8
Author: Gail Christison
Pairing: B/G
Rating: PG-15 for romantic stuff and mildy scary bits.
Summary: First of all, this is a sequel to a post Tabula Rasa fic I wrote a long while ago called "The Visitor,"
http://www.wickedsky.com/oncemore/omwf/fanfic_visitor.html in which Buffy goes to England to reconnect with Giles and to tell him something. They do indeed 'connect' and their relationship evolves into a ..well a relationship <g>. This sequel was written purely to explore the dynamics of that new relationship but it turned into an exploration of Giles' past, and an introduction to it for Buffy, as well as a mystery [not sure how that sneaked in there <g>] that needs to be solved.
Disclaimer: Mutant Enemy, Joss..yadda yadda
Distribution: If you want it, please just ask.I like to share <g> Anyone who already has permission...go for it :-)
Feedback: After the length of the birth of this thing? Oh, Ghhhod yesss :-) chriscln@iinet.net.au
Author's notes: Following on from the summary, I should explain that this story was started in 2002. Three pages sat for 12 months before being resumed in 2003 and a healthy chunk written, Emily and Gregor arriving with it :-). Annnnd yet I managed to get stuck again...I've still only just finished it. It was one of those kind of fics. More hiccups than a Saturday night drunk <vbg>
Thanks: At this point I have to thank some people. I'm pretty sure that Ruth and Karen checked out the Scottish accents for me a long time ago, and Gileswench has been great at keeping me going on this thing as well as providing early beta-ing and feedback on parts of it. I also have to thank Karesia for the final beta at short notice and amidst great adversity. It was profoundly appreciated. :-) With over 2 years to cover I'm sure I've forgotten someone who helped or who got shanhai-ed to provide a spot-beta along the way. Whoever you are, I love you...please don't shoot me :D
Dedication #1 Happy birthday, Kim and thanks, my friend
Dedication #2 For Dawn M. B/Gers like you keep me writing. :-)
"Rupert--" both women began at once. Caroline deferred to Buffy.
"Giles, it's not your fault. You know how smart Willow is. We both know she's known exactly what she was getting into, and exactly what she was doing, all the way back to when she did that spell to re-ensoul Angel...I repeat, not your fault, big guy."
Caroline's normally calm eyes were like saucers. "Re-*ensoul*?"
Buffy winced. "Um, yeah. Evil vampire thing. Gypsy curse...gave him a soul, made him good. Broke the curse, lost the soul. Badness...had to get it back to stop him from destroying the world...that kinda stuff."
"*Buffy*," Giles chided uncomfortably, then faced the older woman. "Essentially that's it. A...once particularly sadistic vampire, with a soul...who lost it...a-and the only way to stop the ensuing carnage was to find a way to give it back to him. He's actually a good man when his soul is restored to him."
"And an evil, sadistic psychopath when some dumb-ass screws up and makes him lose it, you mean," Buffy said morosely.
He touched her arm reassuringly. "Let's not rehash the past. Angel is good now and, more importantly, doing good and, in the end, that's all that's important."
Caroline's colour ebbed. "Angel...Angelus?" She swallowed. "And you all survived?"
Buffy looked miserable.
"Well, yes, most of us," Giles said awkwardly. "And Willow did restore his soul, just before he was sent to hell, fortunately for us, since someone saw fit to send him back a few months later. He's working out of Los Angeles now, for 'good', last we heard."
"Oh," Caroline said, dazedly. "Rupert, you have to send that girl to us. That kind of talent and power as undisciplined as you describe....I can't begin to tell you how dangerous..."
Giles was looking even more uncomfortable and Buffy not much better. "I...um...that is, we know. Take me for example," Buffy pointed out. "Giles did...tell you about me?"
Caroline's blue eyes bore into hers. "About you? That you are the Slayer...that you are the most important thing on earth to him?"
"I was, then I wasn't. Now I am again."
The older woman was looking dazed again.
"On Earth," Buffy clarified. "See, I died in an apocalyptic battle with a god that wasn't very godly, but Willow doesn't do grief so well...like when she helped my little sister try to raise my mother...not to mention when she went to fight Glory after Tara's brain got sucked...and put us all...the whole world...in danger because she was pissed. Except later that whole thing kinda worked out because in the big battle..." She felt Giles' gimlet eye on her and rushed on. "...Tara kinda got...uh, unsucked...so there was good. So anyway: Willow...grief... bad...which means, after my little hiatus in heaven, I'm kinda back, thanks to some Siren thingy or something..."
"Osiris," Giles corrected automatically and could have kicked himself.
"She didn't...? My God..." Caroline swallowed. "As soon as possible, Rupert. Do you understand me? It's imperative that you bring this-this Willow here, before she loses control completely."
Giles looked his friend in the eye. "In spite of what was said earlier, I know I should have done something long ago...back when I knew she was stealing spell books from my private collection, and later when I knew she was stealing ingredients from the Magic Box. It all seemed like little more than childish enthusiasm at the time, particularly given how bright Willow is, and how much good there is in her."
Caroline's expression wasn't one of condemnation. Buffy liked that. If anything she looked sympathetic. "Being bright doesn't protect us from ourselves or our own foolishness," she said softly.
Giles nodded. "And I, of all people, should have known that, right from the beginning. Self esteem has always been a vulnerability for Willow. It was always going to give purchase to any kind of dark magic she encountered, without someone to guide her, to protect her from herself..."
Buffy frowned. "Yeah, well, stop beating yourself up about it, Giles. It's not like she's a kid anymore. Not to mention...IQ bigger than my SAT score. I seem to recall the notion that people should be taking more responsibility for their badness and not blaming bad childhoods, potty training, Mister Rogers or ingrown toenails all the time."
Caroline blinked. "Yes, Rupert. It's not your fault. But if you don't get her over here to us, soon, you have my permission to feel as guilty as hell when she does self-destruct."
Giles stared back at her. It was the harshest he'd ever heard the gentle woman's voice outside of doing spells. "The voice of experience?" he asked gently.
She subsided, sighing heavily and nodding, her eyes dark with memories. " Trust me, she needs help."
Giles nodded. As much as Buffy had trod frequently in his own footsteps, it was pretty obvious Caroline knew only too well where Willow was right now and what lay ahead.
"Done, then," he said with conviction. "I will arrange er...'travel arrangements' with you when we're ready, even if Buffy has to wrestle and hog-tie her first..."
*******
When Caroline drove off, Giles and Buffy found themselves heading down to the wishing-stool. They sat for a long time, in rich silence.
Buffy could almost feel the past creep up and embrace them, and she could tell that Giles had travelled back to a different time and a different world. Not for anything was she going to spoil that.
Much, much later he stirred and looked down at the fair head leaning against his shoulder, then up at the dappled light through the trees. He missed his mother so much sometimes, mostly in the solitudes of life...last thing before falling asleep, or in the grey time after waking in the morning...or when he was jogging on his own, and his mind wasn't filled with some demon mystery to be solved. Then she would come visiting...filling his thoughts with memories of her soft voice, her laughter and her love. Alice Giles had been the last person who'd made him feel truly safe and truly loved.
He smiled as the golden head stirred a little. It was never going to be quite so peaceful or so safe with Buffy. Her journey had been as traumatic and as irrational, and often stupid, as his own...but he knew her...heart and soul, foolishness and courage...he knew her perhaps even better than he knew himself... which was perhaps why it was so easy to forgive her, no matter how far or how hard she fell. From the desperate need to escape her destiny to the overwhelming need to not be alone...the lashing out, the rage, the selfishness...he knew them all as intimately as he knew himself. He dropped a kiss on the brow that tilted back to look at him.
"Hello, sleepy head. Sweet dreams, I hope?"
Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Not really. I dreamed I was flipping burgers for a living. I could almost *smell* it, and it wasn't the food. It was my clothes...and me. If I ever announce that I'm going to do anything like that, just shoot me. Don't ask questions...just find the crossbow and make it quick."
He chuckled. "Agreed. But honestly, I can't even imagine you in a silly hat asking if I 'want fries with that?'. It's...it's...well Emily on snow-skis would be more likely."
That made Buffy laugh, which in turn made him laugh with her.
"Thank God," she said with feeling. "I gotta tell you, I've felt some kinda bad in my time, but I've never felt as pathetic and useless and miserable as I did in that dream." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh, God. Emily!" She grabbed his wrist and peered at his watch. "We're supposed to pick them up...fifteen minutes ago!"
Giles looked at the time piece. "Good Lord. Well, we'll take them to the best tea room in town for a treat to make it up to them."
"Cool," Buffy grinned. "Except I'm not sure anyone makes tea-morning *or* afternoon-as good as Emily's..."
*******
They stayed on until the whole business of reporting and the retrieval of Gilbert's remains, and his funeral, were over.
It was clear that Emily and Gregor didn't want them to go, and just as clear that they really didn't want to leave either.
Giles put down his cup of tea and smiled. "I wish we could stay longer, but we've already had to dig through the attic for clothes, and you've had to wash our things twice. We really must get back. Buffy has a sister at home in Sunnydale who needs her...and I'm afraid to say I need her even more. Until the Hellmouth is closed I'm afraid that's where both of us belong," he added, his smile fading, then looked at Buffy who was equally sombre. "However, should that ever change, I promise we will come home."
After a beat both sets of eyes twinkled, each of them knowing that if the world ever turned on its head and Sunnydale didn't need them anymore, they would move heaven and earth to do exactly that.
"Buffy, lass, take care of him for us. And don't be strangers. If ye can no' live here with us, ye can still visit."
Buffy smiled at Gregor. "Are you kidding? Every chance we get. Giles might even be back here before I am. There's someone he might need to bring to Devon. I'll make sure he stops over to see you and to take Otto carrots."
"Otto," Giles said softly, looking at the older man. "Will you see that he goes back to Lucy for now? I'll call her before I leave, but I'll need you to see to everything..."
The silver head nodded. "He'll be the happier for it. I take him out every few days, just to check the fences and such...but it's no' enough for him."
Buffy's eyes were like dinner plates. "You ride?"
Both men chuckled. Giles cleared his throat first. "Gregor learned to ride even before the shot was heard around the world."
"The...shot?" She asked dumbly.
"The one purported to have started World War One," Giles explained, trying not to smile too much. "The assassination of Arch-Duke Ferdinand... what did they teach you at Sunnydale High?"
"Not much," she muttered, then something clicked. "That's like nearly...that's...okay, I guess you might still remember how to ride a horse," she deadpanned. "But how do you get...up...there? Otto's kinda big and you said yourself when you were doing the fires last night that things don't bend the way they used to..."
It was Gregor's turn to laugh at the child's confusion and the boy's tender amusement.
"True enough," he conceded. "Tis a simple matter to lead him down to the stream and mount him from the lookout rock."
"Ah," Giles said quietly, the mystery solved for him as well, and turned to Buffy. "There are several granite outcrops along the watercourse. The closest one we've always called the lookout rock, because it's like a big granite platform overlooking the stream and the valley beyond it. If Gregor brought Otto alongside its lowest face, he'd only have to slide his right leg across the saddle, provided Otto behaves."
"Aye, the laddie always does. He's a good beastie, intelligent and patient with an old man."
"I don't want to go home," Buffy sighed, looking at two of her favourite men in the universe and letting her nostrils fill with the smell of the pies Emily had in the oven. "I want to stay here and get fat and watch you guys ride Otto."
Giles looked amused but made his expression serious. "Buffy..."
But Gregor was still smiling, and Buffy was smiling back.
"I'm coming with, Giles. It's just nice to dream." She got a mischievous look in her eye and turned to her lover. "This would be such a great place to raise little Gileses...fill them up with pikelets and apple cinnamon cooki...er...biscuits...and Gregor would teach them to ride ponies and we'd make them all wear Emily's socks in the winter."
Giles cleared his throat. "Yes...yes it would," he managed in an embarrassed rasp, then covered the slender hand resting on the table, before relaxing enough for a slow, jubilant smile to emerge.
"Really?" Buffy half whispered, her expression a combination of true joy and the effort of the struggle to grasp it and hold on to it.
His head tilted a little, eyes growing very bright, before he nodded almost imperceptibly. For the first time he truly understood what it must have been like for her, returning to this mortal coil so traumatically and so horribly. Buffy had forgotten how to be truly happy...had forgotten joy.
Giles squeezed her fingers. "Really," he whispered.
Gregor looked from one to the other and saw the light in their eyes, the patches of colour in their cheeks, and knew that the place would come alive again with small feet and children's laughter, one day soon. He nodded his head, satisfied, and looked up at his Emily, who was beaming from ear to ear, no doubt planning on turning out the nurseries and redecorating them...
The End