Title: The Surrogate 5/19
Author: Jacqui
Rating: PG-13. I was building to a nice strong, NC-17, but alas, it was not to be. Yet.
Disclaimer: Buffy, Giles and all other assorted Buffy candies belong to Joss Whedon, WB and ME. Elizabeth, and everything from her world, belongs to me (the real me, not the ‘grr aargh’ ME .
Notes: The B/G vibes are here!!!! It’s about time!

Feedback: Give me a happy. wily_one24@yahoo.com.au

She walked for a long time, trying to come to terms with what she’d been told, trying to make sense of it. The night was warm and a cool breeze ripped through the air, it was the sort of night that couples chose to roam the streets, aware only of each other. They taunted Buffy, screaming at her with the possibilities she’d entertained.

Those foolish dreams that had made her blush, the dreams she’d secretly nourished, feeding them with imaginary conversations and optimistic memories of touches and glances. Everything that had happened, everything that they’d been through had been tainted for him with his pact.

How many times had she thought she’d caught him looking at her a certain way, or those times when things had almost happened but didn’t? Was it in his mind then? Is that what stopped him? If so, what had differed in Elizabeth’s world to make him act upon his feelings?

The answer was blinking in five foot pink neon letters in her brain. There was no way to avoid it, she knew what had made Rupert flaunt the oath he’d given when Giles would not. Elizabeth had asked him to. She, Buffy, had never once asked Giles, never told him how she felt, never given him the choice. She was as much to blame as he was.

Buffy knew what she had to do.

As she changed her direction, she felt a rush of air go through her, as if the air itself had punched her. In its wake, the currents twisted and whorled in her belly, they seemed to talk to her, calling to her, trying to get her to follow them.

-Come home, Buffy, he needs you, you need him-

Gimme a minute, she thought back, I have one more stop to make.

* * * *

Giles sat at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. He didn’t blame Buffy for the reaction she gave him, he’d actually expected worse, he could still remember her eighteenth birthday. Instead, she’d been eerily calm, maybe not calm, but strangely aloof as if she hadn’t felt anything, or she was trying to come to terms with what she felt. Yes, she had yelled at him, but then she’d stared, wild eyed and then passionless. He almost wished for the rage he knew would be building inside of her.

At the moment, though, he was just worried about her. He knew what it was like when she went hunting on an emotional roller coaster, knew that she grew careless and made mistakes. She was vulnerable when she went on vengeance kills.

More than just rage, he knew this too, he could still hear her agonized plea, ‘what about my feelings?’ Up until now he hadn’t thought it possible. Could she really feel that way? Could he have missed it? How? Because, you blundering old fool, you’ve been trying so hard to suppress your own feelings that you’ve managed to suppress hers as well.

Then he felt the air in the room change, someone had entered, was standing just behind him. He knew it couldn’t be Elizabeth, the girl had gone to bed half an hour before and he hadn’t heard her get up. There had been no other sounds in the house and he knew only one other person who could enter so far into his own personal radar without registering. Giles stood up without turning around.

"I’m sorry, I…"

"Shhh."

He stepped around the chair the same time that she did, turning around he could see the tears that ached to fall and wished he could stop them. Buffy looked directly into his eyes, he felt that she went deeper than that, that her vision somehow reached in and sifted through his brain.

"It’s over, okay? You should have told me, but you didn’t. I understand."

Buffy reached her hand out as if to brush something off his shoulder, but she stopped less than an inch of actually touching him. She hesitated, unsure, and then drew her hand back. A flicker of nerves and doubt danced over her face and then disappeared when she smiled weakly.

Giles reached out and took her hand in his, he brought it up to his lips while never breaking the glance that they held. His eyes questioned hers, but she didn’t pull away, didn’t make a move to stop him. In fact, she was trying extremely hard to continue breathing. It felt to her as if the air had become suddenly solid, making it impossible to inhale.

"I. Am. Truly. Sorry."

He punctuated the words with a kiss to each fingertip. His lips seemed to burn where they touched, melting her nerves and making it entirely impossible to formulate a sentence. She reached out with her free hand and clasped it around their joined hands, her thumb making small circles over the back of his hand.

It was paralyzing, this feeling of her thumb moving over the sensitive skin, it was drawing all thought out of his head. It was drawing all the blood out of his head, too, but that was a completely different story.

"You don’t get to be sorry, Giles, there’s nothing to be sorry for."

She stepped closer to him, their bodies were inches short of touching. His leg itched, as if it wanted to step back, to break away from her, like he’d trained himself to do every time she’d come close. It was a habit that he’d have to learn to break. He ignored it.

"I… um… are you… what?"

Buffy giggled in a deep voice and it sent shivers down his spine. She broke her hands away from his and grinned as she reached up to thrust an errant lock of hair behind his left ear. His head jerked sideways as if burned.

"Buffy? I… uh… exactly what…?"

She stood on tiptoe and brought her mouth close to his ear.

"You’re not going all shy on me now, are you? Not that the stutter isn’t cute, mind you."

Somehow, and he didn’t know how, his hands had come to rest on her hips, feeling very much at home on the slight curves. He could feel her bounce slightly on her toes, the movement coursing up his arms and across his shoulders, colliding fantastically with the jolts of ice that were shooting from the bottom of his ear where he could feel her breath.

She could barely believe what she was doing. Never before had she been this brazen. Did this make her a slut? Was she going too far? Would he be shocked and disgusted beyond belief? Would he…? Ohhh… that really didn’t feel as if he were shocked or disgusted. In fact, she was pretty much certain he liked it. Buffy pressed closer, testing.

Giles closed his eyes, his hands pulled her closer to him, as close as she would go. At every second he expected her to pull back, to push him away, but she didn’t. Her hand reached the back of his neck and began to stroke it, up and down, fingers pushing through the small tufts of hair that grew there. He wanted to purr. She leant her head forward so that their foreheads touched.

"Giles? I think…" She waited for him to open his eyes, he looked startled to see her so close, even though he knew she must have been. "I think it’s too late for us to go back now. I know I can’t."

"I can’t either, I wouldn’t want to."

He barely finished his words before his mouth was coated with hers. Her hands pressed his neck forward and he gave in, letting the searing heat of her lips meld with his own. At that moment, he didn’t know why he had waited so long.

Giles so desperately wanted to touch her, to let his hands run free over her body, to feel at last the terrain he’d only imagined. Yet, something held him back, a remnant of the old fear, even though she was still here, maybe she wouldn’t want it, maybe she would… Buffy let out a high pitched squeak as two hands suddenly climbed underneath her sweater and danced across her super sensitive skin.

"Sorry," He whispered. "I just couldn’t stop them."

"Oh, no need for apologies." Buffy smiled into his mouth. "Please, feel free."

Oh. My. Goodness. Why don’t you just offer yourself on a silver platter? I’m sure he has an apple you can stick in your mouth, while we’re at it. Buffy’s brain was screaming at her, sending her frantic messages to stop this, to come to her senses before it was too late. It was already too late, Buffy’s tingly nerves could have saved her brain a lot of anguish, it was way past thinking stage. Every muscle in her body was warm and fluid and she wanted whatever was about to happen, even as she feared it.

Breathe. Giles kept repeating this word in his head, reminding his body to follow the instruction. Such a simple function, one that the body performed without thinking all the time. Except for moments like these, when the circuitry of the brain was shorting, when the central nervous system was electrified and the blood was turning into red hot molten lava. Did she realize what she was doing?

She felt so good. Soft and silken, lean and muscled, her skin was warm to the touch, it was alive under his fingers. He could feel her stomach muscles tense under his skin, ripple and try to relax. Everywhere he touched seemed to jump, pulsing with life. He had the most devilish desire to kneel down and kiss her belly, to brand her skin with his tongue. He did.

"Oh. My. God."

He didn’t know exactly what he had been expecting, but it sure wasn’t a hand at each shoulder, pushing him away. She stood there for several seconds, staring at him, her face a mask of confusion and, could it be, disgust. She shuddered.

"Buffy? Was I wrong…?"

She looked at him, surprised.

"Oh no. You were good, you… very, very good. A little too good. But…" A smile danced over her lips and her eyes glazed over for a moment. "um… we need to find some sort of barrier for this thing."

He blinked.

"What thing?"

Elizabeth coughed from the doorway, making herself known. Buffy gestured towards her.

"That thing. You know, I feel what she feels, she feels what I feel? Ring any bells?"

He glanced from one to the other before realization dawned. His face reddened and he could no longer look at either of them. The floor suddenly became very interesting, so interesting in fact that he wanted it to open up and swallow him. It didn’t and he silently cursed the inconsistency of the Hellmouth.

Buffy walked up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and made him look at her.

"I want this, Giles, whatever it is between us. But there is such a thing as too much sharing. Not to mention," She shuddered. "ewwwwww."

Elizabeth stood, leaning against the doorframe. She hadn’t said anything, what was going on in front of her didn’t call for her words. She watched the gentle way in which they maneuvered around and with each other. Something had definitely changed and they couldn’t ever go back. It cut deep, she knew it shouldn’t, she knew she should be glad for them, but she couldn’t help it. Here they were, on the brink of something that should rightly be hers, something that she would be denied for the rest of her life.

What right had she to deny them? She could feel it in the strange vibrations coming from Buffy, that first tingle that comes with the realization of a new relationship, the possibilities that suddenly became so much more. It was a delicious thing, if it was meant for you. If you felt it only as a side effect of another couple, and you stood alone, then it tasted oh so sour. She sneaked out of the room, back up the stairs and underneath the covers.

The blankets didn’t even hide the tears. Buffy felt them.

* * * *

Willow heaved another box onto the bed and began to carefully pick at the tape that secured it. She was studiously not looking at Buffy who hovered nearby brandishing a pair of scissors. Their methods of unpacking were different. Willow liked to be precise, taking care with every little thing, Buffy liked to, well Buffy was somewhat faster.

"So, she totally freaked? Where is she now?"

"I don’t know if freaked is the right term." Buffy knew it was useless, she hadn’t felt anything change, but she reached out with her senses to check on Elizabeth. "She’s still in bed. It felt more like everything she’d been keeping inside suddenly came to the surface. It didn’t help that Giles and I were practically flaunting ourselves in front of her… it was hard. I felt split in two."

"I don’t know, Buffy, maybe you’re being a little hard on yourself."

Willow was of two minds. A large part of her brain was busy hanging streamers and organizing the caterers, finally Buffy and Giles had waken up to what was right in front of their eyes. Yet, things were complicated. Maybe now was not the time for the two, but then, no time was the perfect time for those two. Something would always stand between them.

Buffy sighed and lifted another, smaller, box to her ear, she rattled it gently, trying to guess what was inside. Willow tried not to notice.

"She’s hurting so much, Will, and there’s nothing I can do. I mean, what would happen if I lost you? Or Oz, or even Giles? I couldn’t cope."

She brought her hands down slowly, setting the box aside, and let them hang loosely by her thighs. A sad look, tainted with fear, washed over her face. Willow came to sit next to her.

"That’s not going to happen, we’re not going anywhere. Well, you know, except Oz, he had that road trip, but he’ll be back soon. There’s nothing you can do, Buffy, except be there for her. Now tell me, before the connection set in, how was it? Was it nice?"

Buffy smiled. Willow could always make everything better. Her mind drifted back to the night before.

"Very nice. It was more than a kiss, it was… it was the sort of kisses you get in movies or television. Well, maybe not television, because he…"

Buffy leaned over and whispered in Willow’s ear. Green eyes went wide, Willow’s face paled visibly and she shifted herself a little away from Buffy, interrupting the description.

"So it was nice, huh? That’s all I need to know. You know, this could be one of those things where you don’t tell me every little detail. Keep a little mystery. Details aren’t always a good thing, one might say…"

Buffy grinned.

"It’s okay, Will, I got it."

* * * *

Elizabeth rolled over and scrunched herself deeper into the covers. It wasn’t working. The world wouldn’t let her disappear, Buffy wouldn’t let her disappear. She’d been trying to block the connection, but it wasn’t something you could do alone, curled into the fetal position, with no implements.

Why had everything happened to her? Was there some dark force that prevented a slayer from ever being happy? That’s why there was a shortage of volunteers. Her mind threw up a bitter voice: Come, be a slayer, live in hell. That wasn’t fair, she knew that.

She’d tried so hard not to sink into her grief, she’d promised Rupert that she’d be brave. But it was so hard to be brave when there was no one to be brave for. The being in her stomach moved sharply, as if in protest to her thoughts.

Elizabeth ran a hand over the small bulge in apology.

You’re still here, aren’t you little one? You and I, we’re a team. We’ll protect each other. I wish your Daddy could have seen you. He loved you so hard, before you’d even formed. He loved you so much he gave his life for you.

~ * ~ * ~

The pounding in his head had reached almost deafening proportions. Rupert Giles scanned the darkness for the figure he knew should be there. It was mid-afternoon, where had the damned sun gone? How was he doing this?

"Elizabeth? Where are you?"

There was silence.

Rupert began to panic, his chest tightening, the air laced with an acid that stung his airways. If only he could get rid of the incessant pounding in his head. He hoped that Elizabeth wasn’t feeling the same, but knew deep down she was. It was their little defense mechanism, the alarm that told them when Ethan was near.

"Elizabeth? Answer me! Damn you Ethan, what have you done?"

He spun in useless circles, the darkness hiding everything. His panic loomed over him like a noxious cloud, threatening to drown him. If he didn’t calm down then he wouldn’t be able to think properly.

Rupert closed his eyes, he stayed perfectly still and breathed out of his slightly open mouth. He concentrated on the air around him, thick as soup. It was intangible at first, but then he could sense it, hear it, feel it. A little to the left of him.

Without warning he shot out his arm and grabbed whoever or whatever was lurking there. He didn’t bother being gentle, it was too large to be his Elizabeth. A low growl sounded and he didn’t know if it was him or the creature in his grasp.

"What have you done with Elizabeth?"

He was barely able to get it out, his teeth were clenched so hard with anger. His hand began to sting, then grew to a burn. He had to release the demon. It felt like he was letting go of his last contact with his wife and child.

"Rupert! You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still grasping at straws."

Ethan’s voice sounded high, floating in the air, not staying in one place. Rupert turned in one direction and then changed to another. This was a nightmare. If only he knew where Elizabeth was.

"Ethan, you’ve gone too far this time!"

He stumbled over something. His heart fell as he bent to feel what it was. To his relief it wasn’t human. It wasn’t even alive and never had been. Rupert stood up again and tried to look into the darkness.

"I’d never hurt her, Rupert."

It was then that he heard it. The softest sound, a muffled whimper of fear, but he would have known it anywhere. He didn’t even need to think about it, his body acted of its own accord. It seemed as if he were flying, in reality he had leapt towards his target. He didn’t need sight or any other senses.

A primal roar ripped through the air, tearing apart his throat, he could not remember feeling that way since his Ripper days. He forgot to think, it was all action. When he landed there was no one there. They’d disappeared, but he could smell Elizabeth, the softest waft of her, she was afraid.

He felt helpless, everything he’d learnt, everything he’d trained for was useless. Tears of frustration welled up behind his eyes and stung. It was hard to keep perspective, to stay focused, but he had to do it.

Perception was easily distorted if you knew how to do it, and Ethan definitely knew. Was it possible that none of this was real? Rupert tried to clear his system of all that he could see and hear and smell. He concentrated on himself, deep down. In his mind he pictured a stone, strong, immovable, unchangeable. From it radiated currents, he let himself be one of the currents.

The darkness disappeared and through it he could see them. Elizabeth held powerless in Ethan’s grasp. How was that possible? She could barely stand and it was then that Rupert saw the blood. Her skin was slick and gleamed with the red flood that poured from her head.

"No!"

Rupert forgot about the stone, forgot about his concentration and ran forward.

As his body shattered through the image, breaking it into countless tiny fragments, he felt his heart sink. It had been a trap. It felt like a thousand knives cutting his skin at once, his scream was the loudest thing he’d ever heard.

~ * ~ * ~

Elizabeth sat straight up, she was shaking hard. She didn’t want that memory to go any further, didn’t know whether she could bear to have the rest of the scene play through her head. The rank smell of Ethan still pervaded her nostrils as she recalled the heavy weight of his arms around her, the foul taste of his hands over her mouth.

Her hands trembled as she dialed the numbers.

* * * *

"Buffy? Are you okay?"

"I don’t know."

Buffy shook her head free of the images that had just played themselves to her. They made her sick to the stomach, reached right in and twisted her insides like a vicious fist. Her breath had ceased to be automatic and she had to struggle to take in air. Groggily, and unsure, she let Willow help her to her feet.

"I think… I think I know how Rupert died in the other realm."

"Oh, Buffy." Willow’s voice was full of sympathy and a little bit of fear. "Was it really bad?"

"Bad doesn’t cover it Will," Buffy’s voice was still a little dazed as they stumbled to a nearby bench on campus. She was leaning heavily on Willow’s arm. "Watching it, seeing him, I… God the guilt, the fear, the helplessness. I’ve never felt like that. I think I’d prefer to kill Angel again."

Neither of them mistook that as a off handed comment. Willow knew that for Buffy to say something like that, it had to have been bad. She couldn’t imagine the extent to which Buffy or Elizabeth had driven themselves, she’d never seen her friend this shaken up, trembling so hard Willow expected her teeth to shatter.

"Do… do you want to go back? Check on Elizabeth?"

"Not just yet. She’s okay. Xander’s talking to her now. It’s strange, you know, he’s good for her. The other Xander kept her afloat after Rupert’s death, kept her from flying of the edge. He has a deep side."

Willow just looked at her. When she did speak, it was with a quiet voice.

"You’d be surprised, Buffy, he can be very mature when he’s no…" Buffy raised an eyebrow and Willow grinned as she gave in. "When he’s not lusting after you… okay so you haven’t seen that side of him yet."

* * * *

"He used me."

The words were simple, three innocent words, but they struggled to come out between the sobs that were painfully shaking her to the core. Elizabeth sucked in a large breath of air and tried to hold it in. Xander reached out and rubbed the back of her shoulders, trying to calm her. He didn’t say anything, somehow he sensed that she needed somebody to listen more than anything else.

"I don’t know how he did it, but he got control of me somehow and held me there while I watched. And the worst part? Everything he was doing, all the effects, came from me, from the energy he was drawing from me. It was my life that put the images in Rupert’s mind, my life that clouded his vision, and I had to watch."

She tensed under his fingers.

"Do you know what a Chervon demon is? Imagine a very small creature, with very sharp teeth, it would have been like a school of piranhas attacking somebody who’d been wrapped in bacon. He made me watch, then he let me go in time to hold his bleeding head in my hands. He died in my arms, Xander, Rupert died in my arms!"

* * * *

By the time Willow and Buffy got back to Giles’ house, it was unusually late. Elizabeth was sitting on the sofa, close to Xander as if she was drawing comfort just from him being there. Giles was just coming out of the kitchen with a tray of drinks. He glared at the girls.

"Where have you been?"

Willow brushed past a rather sheepish looking Buffy with an apologetic air.

"Sorry, we would have been back an hour ago, except Buffy had to stop at the all night grocery store for an extra large tub of cherry yogurt."

"Cherry? No one eats cherry." Xander intoned. "And you don’t have any yogurt with you, not to mention… what’s with the juice?"

Buffy looked at the two-pint carton of apple juice she held in her hand. She blushed.

"Um, I was thirsty. You know, after eating all that yogurt, and yes cherry. Strangely enough, I hate cherry."

"Yes, well," Giles tried to glare, he really did, but he couldn’t stay angry. "We decided not to wait, there was pizza but it’s probably cold by now."

Buffy’s eyes lit up at the thought of cold pizza. Willow’s face turned a slight shade of green and she tried to hide her grimace with a weak smile. Xander laughed as he looked towards her.

"Don’t worry, Will, we put it in the oven to keep it warm for you."

She grinned. Buffy’s smile fell. Giles nudged her as he took the carton of juice out of her hands.

"Don’t worry, there’s a whole pizza on the bench, stagnating and cooling as we speak. Come help me."

Buffy tripped into the kitchen behind him, her good mood restored. The others laughed as they watched the two. Willow smiled a secret little smile, things were coming together. It was odd, the scene that had just played out would not have differed from one that would have occurred months ago, but the two now emitted some vibe, an electricity that belonged to couples alone.

"I don’t see it." Xander lifted his head from the sofa. "I really don’t see it. I mean, and no offense to you, Elizabeth, but Buffy and Giles?"

"None taken." Elizabeth grinned as a thought came to her. "You guys up for a little game?"

Both Xander and Willow nodded, eagerly though confused. Elizabeth motioned for them to be quiet. When Buffy and Giles returned with plates, they all looked elsewhere. Except for Elizabeth, who regarded them with a mysteriously interested look on her face.

"Buffy, I was thinking about something. Does Giles ever push you behind him in battles and jump foolishly into the fray?"

"Yes!" Buffy put her plate down, she faced Giles with a stern expression on her face. "You do that all the time!"

"No I don’t." Giles handed Willow her plate and stood up straight, his back rigid as he turned back and walked to the kitchen to get drinks for the girls. "I do no such thing."

"Oh, yes you do!"

Buffy was not about to let the conversation stop there. She chased after him, her voice audible from the living room. Neither of them returned in what seemed like a reasonable amount of time to pour drinks. An argument could clearly be heard.

"I have never done such a thing…"

"Excuse me? Every single time, you do it. And what for? Who are you protecting? Me? I’m super power gal, remember? You could get yourself killed!"

"Buffy, I refuse to enter into this conversation. Please step away from the refrigerator."

"No. Not until you admit that you do the macho male, hero thing."

"I will admit to no such thing."

"Ugh! You’re all the same."

"All? All who?"

"Men!"

In the living room three people were trying extremely hard not to burst out into uncontrollable laughter. They were like a little old married couple. Except for the fact that little old married couples usually don’t fight about battling demons. Even Xander had to admit they were extraordinarily couple like.

When they came back into the room, they were strangely quiet. Neither of them spoke as they began to settle into the group. A little squeak came from the vicinity of Willow, who looked at them with a wide, innocent face, her shoulders trembled and her lips quivered with restrained laughter, but she didn’t speak.

The phone rang. Giles went to answer it, before long he returned and gestured that Buffy should take the call.

"Hello? Willy? That was quick, I only beat you up last night. Where? Here? Okay, thanks."

Buffy could see Willow’s eyebrows skyrocket as she whispered the words ‘Willy the snitch?’, she could see Xander confused little frown, she could sense the disapproval that emanated from Giles, but most of all, Buffy could feel the slightest little tendril of curiosity creep into her head.

She hated to do it, it made her feel dirty, but she cleared her mind of all thought and focused on the memories of the vision she’d had earlier that night. Of Elizabeth being held by Ethan, of watching Rupert die. Across the room, Elizabeth gasped and let out a whimper. Buffy threw her a look of apology and ran out the door, calling over her shoulder that she would be back soon.

* * * *

There was a loud pounding at the door. Strange, he’d only just arrived in town that day. Sunnydale, being Sunnydale, he grasped a rather nasty looking blade and kept it at chest height, ready to attack or defend himself. When he opened the door, he could barely stop the laughter as relief poured through him.

"Why, Buffy, what a surprise, I didn’t expect to see you so soon. And how’s Ripp- arrrggghhh!"

Ethan found himself propelled backwards, several steps to the far wall, his throat pinned viciously by the cold eyed girl in front of him. The blade in his hand hadn’t even moved. Well, she’d surely changed since the last time he’d been here.

"Listen closely, Ethan, I know. I know everything." Her words were spat out between clenched teeth. Ethan could taste the hatred that emanated from her. "If you try anything, and I mean anything, I’ll come back."

"I don’t know what…"

Her hand tightened on his throat and he began to see stars.

"If you thought I’d come anywhere close to beating you up before, think again. I have a family now, and nothing, not even you, will change that. Do you hear me? I certainly hope so, because at this point in time I’d think nothing of scooping out your intestines like the creamy green flesh of an avocado. Are we clear?"

He nodded.

She turned around and left. Ethan breathed out, shakily.

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