Title: The Real Loneliness 12/12
Author: K.V. Wylie
Pairing: Giles/Cordelia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to Controlled Descent
Disclaimer: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS, has not been given. Joss, Twentieth
Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. This is purely for fun,
and no copyright infringement is intended
Willow knocked on the door of the apartment. Giles' car wasn't out front, but Cordelia's was. It was the situation Willow had hoped for.
However, getting the set-up she wanted hadn't prevented her 'resolve-face' from slipping several notches. She hadn't come with any plan, other than the feeling that enough was enough. And it had been so long since she'd seen Cordelia, she really had no idea what to expect. Willow had an idea that living with someone meant some of their qualities rubbed off on you, but which way would that have gone? Cordelia picking up on some of Giles' qualities didn't seem likely. Which meant…..
Willow knocked a second time, her fist hitting the wooden door so hard that she received a jab of pain for her efforts.
The door swung open and Cordelia stared at her.
Willow stared back. Cordelia looked like, well, Cordelia. She still had her fashion sense - a slim-fitting summer dress with colour-coordinated pantyhose. Even a hair band and a couple of jangling bracelets.
Willow's eyes unconsciously darted down to Cordelia's stomach, but there was no sign of pregnancy there. Then she looked back to Cordelia's face and saw that the latter was frowning, having caught the direction of Willow's glance.
"If you want to break down a door, an axe might be helpful," Cordelia said. "And if this is some kind of rescue mission, Rupert isn't here."
"I came to speak to you," Willow said, putting as much force to the statement as she had to the door.
Cordelia raised an eyebrow, stepped back, and said simply, "Fine."
Willow went in, her intent being the living room, the place in Giles' apartment with which she had the most familiarity. But she'd only taken a few steps past the doorway when she stopped.
The furniture was the same, but…..Willow gazed around. There had once been books, tons of books, and a record player, little items on the fireplace, and records in a cabinet in the corner.
"Does Giles live here anymore?"
"He did last time I checked," Cordelia replied sardonically.
"Where's his stuff?"
"Mostly in his study."
Willow turned around. Cordelia was in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.
"Did Buffy send you?"
"No. She doesn't know I'm here," Willow said.
"Does she think you're out with Wesley?"
Willow didn't have a lot of experience with stand-offs, but this one was plainly not going the way she wanted. Cordelia had gained the upper hand already. And how did she know? Willow went over the path. Buffy knew. Buffy must have told Giles. Giles would have then told…..bingo.
Anyway, Willow wasn't ashamed of the Wesley thing. At all. She'd been planning on informing her parents, whenever they came home.
Willow raised her head and stated, "I want to talk to you about Giles and Buffy." She braced herself for the snippy retort, but none came. Cordelia merely leaned against the door frame and waited.
Willow took a breath. "You can't separate them, especially right now when Giles is ill. Buffy's worried sick and, when they get like this, no one else can help them."
"She goes to see him at the Museum," Cordelia said.
"It's not the same. That's, uh….." Willow didn't know how to describe it, but it wasn't Watcher-Slayer interaction.
Cordelia shrugged as she sat in a chair. In a casual tone, she said, "I'll tell Rupert to call her when he gets home."
'I haven't done this right,' Willow thought. There should have been an explosion, or a mild eruption. Some sarcastic barbs at the least. As she sat on the couch, she asked again, "Giles *does* still live here, right?"
"Yes," Cordelia said, but, to her way of thinking, this issue had already been discussed and the ground rules put in place. If Rupert hadn't yet contacted Buffy, that was hardly *her* fault.
She was also thinking of this afternoon. Willow had shown up just after she'd gotten home. When Rupert had left earlier, Cordelia had given him ten minutes before making her way to Adas Israel Temple. Her intention had not been the Rabbi, but a room which, by Rupert's account, was near the front entrance. That's where she'd been when she'd caught sight of Rupert and the Rabbi walking into a park. She wasn't sure, but she thought Rabbi Mendi might have seen her.
She'd stayed by the entrance until the men were out of sight before going into the Synagogue. There'd been voices, but far down a hall. The room she'd wanted had been the first on the right. Empty. No one, except perhaps the Rabbi, had known she was around.
On a wall, in a place where the sunlight would hit every morning, was a bronze plaque. "Aulin Tafari, 1972 to 1990". A few lines in a language Cordelia didn't know, then, at the bottom, "The Light and Grace of This World." Underneath was a fresh vase of roses.
After returning to her car, Cordelia had sat for a little while, her hands unconsciously shielding her abdomen.
"When is Giles coming back?" Willow asked.
"I don't know. Hopefully, by dinner. I'll tell him to call Buffy."
Willow was dumbfounded. If this was how expecting a baby affected you, she wished Cordelia had been pregnant all through high school. Then she wondered if she should offer good wishes, or even if, officially, she was supposed to know.
Willow decided to go flat in. "Um, I hope everything goes well. I mean, with the baby."
Cordelia eyed her, the same way someone would eye an unusual arrangement of leaves on a forest path while contemplating whether a trap lay underneath.
"W-when are you due?" Willow asked.
"March first."
It seemed a long way away. Months and months, and then there would be, what? A car seat in that Citroen? Cordelia with a baby carriage? Willow simply couldn't see it. She couldn't begin to imagine Cordelia with a baby. Giles, however…..
Willow thought that one through. Yes, she could easily see Giles holding a baby. His child. Sitting in this very room, perhaps in that chair by the window, his baby in his lap and smiling down at it.
"Look, if Buffy's having Slayer tantrums, that's nothing to do with me," Cordelia said.
"Buffy's not having tantrums. We're only worried about Giles."
"Rupert got sick because of the hellmouth, not me."
Willow couldn't argue with that one, though she was curious what living with Cordelia might actually do to a person. "It's been a couple of months and he's still awfully down in the dumps."
"Not from me," Cordelia insisted. "You and Buffy have it all worked out that I'm the problem. Think again. This started long before."
'I'm not going down this road,' Willow thought. But they were, because Cordelia continued, "If Buffy hasn't cleared the air with Rupert, it might be because she's afraid to."
Willow geared up. She wasn't going to put up with this. Cordelia always brought it back to Buffy. "Giles and Buffy have hardly spoken since Giles did that, whatever he did. I'm talking about these past two months."
"You need to go farther back," Cordelia said, but her voice was low. "Rupert has horrid marks on his chest and back, Willow. Big long scars. *I* didn't put them there."
Willow felt like a jack-in-the-box. Here she was again, rising to the defense. "Buffy doesn't know. She couldn't know. Giles wouldn't have shown her."
"He did tell her he'd been tortured. It doesn't take a huge leap to figure out there'd be *something*," Cordelia told her.
"This is…..in the past."
"Yeah, well, it didn't go away. That's what they need to work out," Cordelia said. "Don't put all the crap on me."
"I'm not," Willow said. "That's not why I came here."
"Why *did* you come here?"
"To make sure you weren't the reason Giles was staying away from Buffy," Willow conceded. She drew a long breath, then said, "I'm not going to go into all that other stuff. That's between Giles and Buffy. No one else."
"I see those scars every night. Don't tell me not to defend him.," Cordelia said. "Rupert would have killed Angel in the mansion, but Buffy stopped him. Did you ever think, maybe, that wasn't the best outcome? Certainly it would have saved a little blood sucking, say on the day before the Ascension. If you want to play What's-The-Problem, maybe you ought to start there."
Willow held her ground, which was becoming difficult considering that the opposing points sounded valid. "So you're saying this is entirely Giles-Buffy-Angel. You haven't given Giles any reason, whatsoever, to feel he has to choose between you and Buffy?"
"He's made up his own mind on that," Cordelia said in a self-assured tone. "And when it comes to the Watcher and Slayer, I am not in the middle."
Willow frowned. If the confidence was an act, it was an impressive one. She sat back on the couch, feeling disheartened. And, if this was about Angel, it had certainly taken its time coming to a head. "Buffy said that Giles has lost weight and that he looks really ill."
"Implying me once more. What do you think I'm up to? Slow poison in his tea?" Cordelia cocked her eyebrow again.
"No."
Cordelia glanced towards the window, then said, "Hmm. He still hasn't replaced that muffler. Willow, you can ask him yourself whether or not I'm poisoning him."
Willow looked over in confusion before hearing the sound of a key in the front door lock. A moment later, Giles came into the living room. Upon seeing her, surprise crossed his features. He shot a quick look between the two women, perhaps an attempt to gauge tension level, then he smiled at Willow.
She studied him. He was thinner, but he didn't look as bad as she'd envisioned. In fact, he didn't look too bad at all. She jumped up happily from the couch. "Giles! I would have gone to the Museum, but your secretary said you were off, and I was getting worried." She glanced at Cordelia, then thought, 'to heck with it,' and gave Giles a bear hug.
He returned the hug. "I'm only taking a few days vacation, no reason to be concerned," he said. His arms felt strong and he was warm. Willow snuggled contentedly before, finally, letting him go. As she returned to the couch, Giles moved beside Cordelia and put his hand on her shoulder. Reassurance? Willow wondered. But whatever Cordelia thought about the hug, she was keeping it to herself.
"How long did you stay in Long Beach?" Giles asked.
"Five days," Willow said. "We wanted to stay longer, but Wesley got attacked by vampires." At Giles' expression, she added hastily, "He staked one, but Buffy had to come back to get the others. There weren't many and there haven't been any since."
"Wyndham-Price staked a demon," Giles said, somewhat bemused.
"He's been learning a lot. From Buffy!" Willow tried, and failed, to keep the pink from her ears.
"How has your summer been otherwise?" Giles asked, looking down at Cordelia in order to avoid looking at the blush now working its way across Willow's cheeks. "Restful, I trust."
"Yes, um, lately it's been nice," Willow replied.
"I'm glad you have a break before university starts. I'm going to put the kettle on. Would you like anything?"
Willow glanced over. Giles was still looking at Cordelia, as though a silent message was being passed.
"Are you implying that I should wait on you, Rupert?" Cordelia asked.
Giles smiled at her. "No. Would either of you like anything?"
"I like tea," Willow said.
Her comment apparently fell on deaf ears. While still looking up at Giles, Cordelia said, "I'm the pregnant one. You should be waiting on me." She continuing grumbling as she stood. "I will get your precious tea, Rupert, but I'm not drinking it."
"Warm the pot first, Cor."
Cordelia eyed him with an expression that might have frozen the blood in other men. "Should I bake you fresh muffins too? And would you like the handle on your cup facing the left or the right?"
"The left is preferred."
As she left, she muttered something which sounded, to Willow's ears, suspiciously like a threat as to where Giles might expect to be sleeping that night. He hardly seemed to notice.
He pulled a chair beside Cordelia's vacant one, then, in a subdued voice, queried, "Buffy didn't come with you?"
"She's studying. University-prep Economics."
"Perhaps I should invite her here."
Willow glanced dubiously at the doorway by which Cordelia had just left. If Giles noticed, he gave no sign. Instead, he asked, "How is Buffy?" And his shoulders tensed, the way someone would in an emergency ward when the doctor comes out.
"She's really down," Willow replied. She saw Giles' swift look towards the phone. "I'll help Cordelia make tea," she offered.
As she stood, Giles said, "When I came out of the hellmouth, I hurt you. It was inexcusable and I'm very sorry."
"I'd forgotten about it, Giles," Willow said brightly before scooting to the kitchen. Cordelia was leaning with her back against a counter. She actually had started the tea, for a tray with mugs was on the table and the kettle was just coming to a boil behind her.
"I don't have any arsenic to put in the pot," Cordelia said pointedly when Willow came in.
"I thought I'd help you, maybe carry the tray," Willow said. "Should you be carrying it, when you're, um…..?"
She trailed off when Cordelia sighed. Willow waited until the boiling water had been poured and the kettle safely returned to the counter, before saying, "Is this hormones, or is it just you?"
Cordelia plunked the tray into Willow's hands with a scowl, then started back to the living room.
"Poor Giles," Willow said. She let Cordy get a good head start before following.
"There's no answer at Buffy's," Giles said as Willow came in, and she gawked for he'd said it right in front of Cordelia.
She nearly dropped the tray when Cordy said softly, "Try her later, Rupert. She's probably just gone to the mall."
Giles took the tray and set it on a coffee table before taking the seat beside Cordelia. As he poured it out, Willow noticed that there were three mugs. Giles handed one to Cordy without remark. While Willow pondered again what sort of relationship the two of them had, Cordelia gave Giles a quick smile and turned the handle on his mug so that it faced his left.
"Have you been to Sunnydale University, to register for your classes?" Giles asked Willow.
"Wesley took Buffy and me up there on Monday. I have three heavy mathematics courses in the first semester. They're not offered in the second or I could have stretched them out." Willow glanced at Cordelia. She wasn't sure what Cordy's plans were, or if it was all right to ask.
"Don't worry," Cordelia said acerbically. "I'm not in any of your classes. I'll be in the Humanities buildings. It's ok to look relieved."
Which Willow was, in fact, though she was trying not to show it. She'd had Cordy all through her school life and wanted a break. "Wesley and I are going to Los Angeles for the weekend. I wanted to get some new clothes, some different ones, and he said--"
"Stores galore," Cordelia sighed.
"Kind of like that," Willow said. "Wesley was there once, years and years ago. His parents took him and his sisters. Wesley said we should go down Beverly Hills Boulevard and go to Universal Studios. Well, the last was my idea because they have a ride that goes through the water where Jaws is. Do you know that Wesley had never heard of that movie?" She stopped when she realized Giles and Cordelia were both watching her. "I guess I talk about him a lot," she finished.
"You did speak one entire sentence without him," Cordelia noted.
"We are talking about Wesley *Wyndham-Price*?" Giles asked.
Willow grinned before she could stop herself. Then, she realized, she didn't care, and grinned widely as she settled back on the couch with her tea.
Willow left before dinner, after rambling on excitedly about a date planned for that night.
"Boy, she never shut up, did she?" Cordelia observed after she closed the door. "Wesley, Wesley, Wesley."
"She's happy," Giles said, as he took the tray to the kitchen. Cordelia followed more slowly.
"We're not," he added.
"We were, Rupert, when we started. We were like that, though I didn't babble on and on about you."
"For which I'm rather thankful." He took her in his arms, noting her momentary flinch. "Honey, we could go to Los Angeles, if you want. Why don't we, after your ultrasound?"
Cordelia shrugged. "Should we make any plans? I think everything depends on how you're feeling."
"I need to see Buffy," Giles admitted. "I'm worried about her, Cor."
"Other than that?"
"I feel…..I feel fine."
"What about all that demon stuff?"
"It doesn't go away," Giles said. "It will always be with me."
"It doesn't get passed along, does it?" Her hand went to her stomach.
He shook his head, then brought her face to his and kissed her.
Cordelia opened her mouth to him, tasting tea and milk and his warm male savor. His hands rubbed down her back, caresses she would have been able to enjoy if the memory of their last encounter wasn't still so bitterly in her mind.
He bent. His arm went under her thighs and he lifted her, but so carefully, as though he were picking up something made of that thin spun glass only sold in antique shops.
"I love you," he said. As he raised her, her hip brushed over the front of his pants. He was already hard, so much so that she shivered.
He kissed her again before carrying her down the hall and up the stairs. Each step jostled her hip against him. She moved her hand down, to protect him but also to touch him, to feel the pressure of it on her fingers.
In the bedroom, he placed her on the bed, arranging her in the middle of the mattress. He bent again to kiss her, but she made him pause, grasping his chin so that she could look at him. His expression was intent. His eyes were darkened slightly with arousal.
"All right?" he asked. She nodded.
Giles undressed her. He had trouble with the buttons on her skirt because she kept opening her legs, stretching the material. But this kind of teasing he enjoyed. Anyway, she was doing it while removing what she could of his clothing.
When his shirt was off, she pressed delicately at the scars on his chest.
"Cor?"
She raised her eyes. Her brown ones seemed heavy, as though filled with all the dark clouds he'd ever seen in the sky.
"I love you, Rupert," she told him. Her voice was low; it pulsed in his own throat.
He finished undressing, then came down to her, being mindful not to touch her wrists. Her legs came up over his sides.
"Now," she whispered.
He braced himself up on one elbow in order to touch her sex. She was so wet that the hair covering her was slick with it.
"God, Cor." He guided himself into her slowly, apprehensively.
"Rupert," she murmured and lifted her hips, pulling him in all the way. "Fuddy duddy old librarian," she added as she wound her arms around him.
"I'm glad you like librarians," he said. He wanted to keep kissing her, but she turned her head to the side.
"If I'd stayed out of that library, like I'd always intended to, I could be in a Ferrari at this moment," she said.
"In the back."
She slapped his leg with her own. The action tightened her passage around him and he groaned. "Face it, honey," he managed. "I'm enjoying the benefits of your secret little tweed fetish."
She pushed him up slightly, but, when he looked down, she laughed. "That was pretty good, Rupert." Her face got serious again as he thrust back in her.
"Is it still ok, Cor?"
"Mmm mmm."
"I love you so much," he told her. This time she allowed his kiss. Her tongue went over his as her vagina tightened around him. He raised his left knee slightly, digging it into the mattress. Early in their relationship, he'd discovered that doing this angled them against each other in a way that fluttered the lips of her sex around his organ.
She moaned as his maneuver lifted and pressed her in against him. Every thrust down now pushed on her clitoris, exciting her tremendously as his stiff penis moved inside her. But he was still being careful, she found. His hands were out at the sides, away from her.
"Hold me," she said.
He hesitated, wanting to be sure.
"Hurry." Her crisis was close. As he enclosed her, she cried out and let herself come. He followed a breath later, his shaft jerking in her vagina as he began to ejaculate.
Afterwards, she kissed him back and forth along his jaw and cheek, trying to keep him awake. He had a terrible habit of falling asleep almost immediately after his crisis. "I want you to convert to Judaism," she said. "Going to that temple had a great effect on you."
He started to shake. Cordelia opened her eyes and found he was laughing.
"That's not the reason, Cor."
"Well, whatever it was. Throw out those disgusting magazines of yours and get some books in Yiddish."
Giles gaped at her.
"I live here, Rupert," she said. "Of course I'm going to find them."
He rolled to the side. She went with him, ending up toppled on his chest. "I'd forgotten about them," he said.
"Yeah, right."
"It's been months," he tried and she gave him a highly skeptical look.
"Look at the dates, Cor. None of them could be under a year old." Red was travelling over his face. It was all she could do to keep from laughing.
A look of dread joined the blush. "You didn't tell anyone, did you?"
"No, I'm not that eager to let anyone know what a pervert you are," she said.
"*Your* pervert, by the way," he emphasized.
"And I'm so proud of it." She rolled her eyes.
In a hopeful voice, he asked, "You didn't throw them out, did you?"
She hit him so hard with a pillow that feathers flew out the seams.
"Be very careful what you say," she warned him as she blew a feather off her lip.
As he was brushing them off his shoulders and stomach, he asked, "Are my publications still in the same place you found them?" He ducked and the pillow went wide, allowing him to catch her extended arms.
Immediately, he let go of her.
"Rupert?" she asked.
"I'm sorry, Cor. I shouldn't have grabbed you."
"That one was ok."
He traced his fingertips over her breasts. "After your ultrasound, we'll go to Los Angeles. We'll get you a dress at one of those boutiques and go to a restaurant."
"A maternity dress?" she asked, in a subdued voice.
"You won't need one for a little bit yet, will you?" He moved his touch down below her navel. "Though I don't know much about these things."
"Neither do I. I do feel kind of puffy already."
"Cordelia, you're beautiful. You'll never be anything else." He was drawing circles on the skin above her mound, his expression rapt and amazed.
Relieved, she said, "You're getting into this now, aren't you?"
"It's been so long since I dared hope."
"What did that Rabbi do to you? Whatever it was, I like it a whole lot."
"I'll tell you, but not right now. Leave it be right now." He stopped making patterns to take her fingers in his. "I need to talk to Buffy. I've pushed her away, Cor."
"Maybe I helped you."
Startled, he fell into silence.
"That's what Willow thinks," Cordelia said.
"Is that why she came over?"
She didn't answer. Giles hugged her against his chest. "Honey, I did feel in the middle, but there are aspects that have nothing to do with you."
"Angel, then."
He was quiet for too long. "Rupert?"
"I can't stand even the thought of him anymore," Giles said quietly. "If he were to come back here….."
"I'll stake him myself."
Giles chuckled. "Your knee is more lethal."
"Then I'll do both. Knee first, then stake."
"My defender," he said.
She grinned at him, then brought his mouth to hers.
---
It was nearly nightfall. Giles had been about to call Cordelia's cell phone when he heard her return from the store.
"Rupert?"
"Down here."
She followed his voice to the basement stairs and came down a few steps. "What are you doing?" But then she saw which box was open on the floor before him.
"Why are you doing that? I thought you'd be at Buffy's."
"There's still no answer."
Cordelia continued down the stairs and sat on the bottom stoop. "And you're going through Michael Khieri's things for what stupid reason?"
"I wanted to read his journal, the one he started when he came here."
Cordelia wished she had the strength to move that box and hide it. She'd left him alone for five minutes and here he was on his knees on the cold cement, going through the possessions of a dead man. "Rupert, do you think you could take up a hobby? Maybe model airplanes? Or I could let you have your magazines back."
He didn't look up. His face was pallid in the yellow light from the bulb hanging overhead.
"Rupert."
He replaced some books in the box. "Cor, he knew her for a very short time."
"I know the story. You do too. Come upstairs."
"Yet he fell in love with her."
She leaned against the bannister and said, "Every male loves Buffy."
"I'm not talking about lust, Cor." Giles opened the book and read, " 'I cannot believe this young girl is one of those Chosen Ones sent to die. I have studied all my life to be a Watcher and thought I was prepared, but the Slayer had been an ideal to me…..a woman in the front of the battle, raw strength and sheer power, a warrior or Amazon picked by God. I had never, indeed, seen one. This girl, Elizabeth Anne Summers, is not a Joan of Arc. She sits now in a chair, eating licorice while discussing a movie with her friend. I can smell her shampoo and some perfume she tried on this afternoon while we were in a store. She is worried about a small tear in her dress and whether or not she remembered to water some plants for her mother this morning. She has a scrape on her elbow, she twirls her hair when she's concentrating, and she laughs at me every time I open a book. She is not an ideal. She is unimaginably strong, but she can bleed. She breathes and laughs and looks at me with the deepest, most grownup eyes I have ever seen. I have been trained for this moment, but, when it comes down to it, I am sending this beautiful young girl in front of me to face despicable evils. No training prepares you for this. It scares me. She is not a faceless soldier among the ranks. She is a human girl.' "
Giles looked over. Cordelia nodded and said, "Go on, Rupert."
" 'This afternoon, we were passing by a store in the mall when she spotted a crystal rabbit in the window. I asked her if she liked rabbits. She said yes and that she used to have a rabbit just like the one in the store, given to her by her father some years earlier when she won a skating contest. When her parents separated and she moved with her mother to here, the rabbit was lost somewhere. She has been unable to find it at either parent's home. We continued walking, but she was quiet. Tomorrow I will buy that little rabbit for her. It's expensive, but it would be well worth it if it would make her smile. She has so much riding on her that it's a wonder she can be happy at all, or laugh or get out from underneath long enough to make friends. If it was three times as much, I would still buy it, and it would be worth every cent.' "
Cordelia came to his side and knelt. "Rupert, Watchers don't father Slayers, do they?"
"No. They do father other Watchers, though."
"Great," she muttered. "You know something? I really don't like your world." She took the book from him and replaced it in the box. As she stood, she reached a hand down to him and added, "I'm sure you'll see her tomorrow. Let me clean that rabbit first, before you take it to her. It's gotten all dusty."
As they started up the stairs, he drew her to his side and said, "Thank you, Cor."
Later that night, she woke up and he wasn't there. "Not again," she griped.
He wasn't anywhere she could find. She even checked the basement. Then she looked outside for his car and saw him in the yard, standing by the Impala.
She put a jacket around her as she went out. "Rupert! Do I have to tie you to the bed?"
He half-turned. "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"
His voice sounded odd, as though he'd just eaten gravel, and, when she neared him, he turned away.
Cordelia held his arm to keep him still as she marched around to face him, but her steps wavered when she saw the reflection of wet on his cheeks.
She dropped her eyes while simultaneously letting go of him. As she stood there, not sure what to do, his hands took her and gathered her in to him.
"Don't leave, Cor."
She laid her head against his chest and stood quietly with him in the yard.
---
Willow left Buffy's house after a mysterious order that the latter not leave. Buffy hovered in puzzlement in the front hall, half-expecting Willow to return with a cake and candles, despite that it wasn't anyone's birthday.
She'd just about decided no cake was coming, and was putting on her shoes, when the doorbell rang.
"Willow!"
Giles stood on the porch. He glanced behind him. "Did you say Willow?"
"I thought you were her. She just left." Buffy stepped back as he came in. "I didn't know you were coming."
"I called earlier, but Willow picked up. Were you going out?"
Buffy shook her head. They stood for some moments, awkward and uneasy. She wasn't sure what this was about. Something in his face looked final, as though he'd made a momentous decision and had come to give her the hard facts of it.
"Might we sit?" Giles asked.
She gestured at the living room. He took a spot on the couch, but she sat on a stool by the fireplace. A coffee table and the length of the room lay between them.
"I'm sorry I have been so long away," he said.
"I guess we all needed some space." The stool was so low that Buffy's knees were against her stomach. It made her feel small, or him big. From this angle, he was large, like one of those marble-eyed statues that tower overtop dried fountains.
"Coming out of the hellmouth was difficult for me," Giles said. "And much happened afterwards."
"We seem to have our share of big bad things," Buffy murmured. "So, how is Cordelia? Any morning sickness?"
"Uh, no," he replied. "That's been my department."
Willow had given Buffy a peculiar account of 'the visit' she'd made to Giles' apartment. Buffy knew the minutiae of teacup handles and how the living room had been changed into Cordyland, but pertinent parts were missing. Willow had been vague on how she and Cordelia had passed time until Giles came in. She'd also avoided the more pressing issue of how Giles and Cordelia acted as a couple. He'd sat beside her. He'd put his hand on her shoulder. Buffy had pushed for more, but Willow had shrugged and made a big deal out of Cordy making tea.
Giles sat now, hunched forward, one hand in his pocket. He wasn't as white as he'd been the last time she'd seen him, but he didn't look like someone who lived in California. However, Buffy thought, he never had. Ultra-violet rays bounced off his tweed and dissipated.
"Giles, are you feeling better?"
"Yes, I am."
His answer surprised her.
"Really? For sure?" A smile touched her face, hedging through the apprehension. He caught her expression and his own softened.
"For sure," he repeated.
"Was it anything to do with that Rabbi?"
"Rabbi Mendi," Giles said. "And, yes, it was."
Nothing else was forthcoming. Buffy wondered if he'd prayed over Giles, the way he had at the mansion, but, somehow, that didn't seem right. "He's like you," she said. "I mean, he's intelligent and, um, well, tall."
Giles pulled a small box out of his coat and set it on the table. "I was reading Michael Khieri's journal last night. After he died, I found this in his belongings, but I didn't know he'd bought it for you until I read his journal. I apologize that it's taken me so long to get it to you. I had it sitting on a window sill where it got rather dusty, I'm afraid. Cordelia cleaned it."
Buffy got up slowly and took the box. When she opened the lid, her mouth opened.
"Apparently you saw it in a store window….." Giles said.
"We did. In the mall." She sat at the end of the couch, the crystal rabbit in her palm. "Michael bought this for me? But it was expensive."
"He thought it well worth the cost."
"He hardly knew me."
"He knew enough. He recognized that you are, even among the Chosen, a rare Slayer indeed. He, like others, found it easy to love you," Giles said softly.
"…..like others….." Buffy repeated. She looked up.
Giles was looking at her, his manner solemn and intent. "I love you, Buffy. More than my own life."
Buffy found she couldn't swallow. She thought she might drop the rabbit and had to cup her other hand around it, but everything was still trembling. She put the rabbit on the table and said, "Giles, what you said to Xander about my no longer needing a Watcher was wrong. I do need a Watcher. *My* Watcher."
He shook his head. "I'm not what keeps you alive, though you have kept me so."
"No, Giles. I need you."
Her hands were balled up in her lap. Giles placed his hand overtop of them, but his voice hardened. "About Angel. If he comes back, I can't help you with him anymore."
"He's not coming back."
"You can't be sure, Buffy. I suspect he hasn't gone all that far away. If I see him, I can't even guarantee to you that I wouldn't kill him. He is not welcome. I will not risk him anywhere near Cordelia or my child. Ever."
She suspected this was what she'd seen earlier on his face. He would risk his life for her, but he wouldn't risk his child for her. And he was spelling it out, making *sure* she knew.
"I understand," Buffy said. He regarded her dubiously.
"If I have to, I'll prove it to you." Her voice started to break. "I will."
Giles didn't look convinced, but he didn't push the matter. Buffy hugged him, then leaned against him. She felt him relax and, a moment later, his arms went around hers.
"Giles, are you happy with Cordelia?"
"Yes."
Buffy looked up. Giles smiled down at her. "Yes," he said.
"We're talking about Cordelia," Buffy reminded him.
He laughed. The quiver went right through her. "I'm happy with her. I'm fine. Buffy, this is the first time in my life I've ever felt quite so well."
"Well," she mumbled, "as long as you're sure."
He let his head rest against hers. In a gentle voice, he said, "I'm sure."
(end)