TITLE: Bad Judgement 6/10
AUTHOR: Lily2332
FEEDBACK: Yes!
DISCLAIMER: They’re not mine, don’t sue.

NOTE: Ok, I just want to clarify something: It's not me, it's them! I don't know why you all are blaming me for Buffy and Giles' misbehavior! Believe me, I'm as troubled about it as you are, and gave them a good talking-to. However, you know how stubborn they are at times.........

PART SIX: LONELINESS

Giles checked his watch again. 10:18. She was late. He settled into a chair with a book, and before opening the cover, turned his wrist again, checking the dial.

It had been two months since the long trip home from the woods, a lonely stretch of highway. It had been completely silent in the van on the way home, save for occasional muffled weeping coming from the back, and the comforting, feminine whispers of Willow. At first, Buffy had attempted to make things right, appearing at his house often, being on time, training diligently. Eventually, though, he achieved his goal, through weeks of cold indifference. Now she arrived only to report, always searching his face for signs of feeling, departing when she found none. Their training sessions were more like competitions, they both focused so intently on building her skill, sometimes hours would go by without a word, no banter, no laughter.

Only one time had he almost lost his resolve, he remembered. They'd been training particularly hard, and were engaged in hand to hand combat. Giles had gotten a lucky kick in, toppling Buffy onto the floor in a heap. Her sweat soaked hair was sticking to her face, which was scrunched up in discomfort caused by her landing. She'd looked up at him so expectantly, waiting. His first instinct had been to kneel beside her in concern, or at the very least offer his hand in assistance. He took one step forward, then stopped, turning from her to take a long drink from his water bottle. When he'd turned back around, she was no longer there.

He sighed, putting the book down. Like he would really get any reading done. His thoughts strayed again, wondering which of them had shed more tears in the past weeks, the girl, encircled by loving friends, or he himself, alone in his darkened room. It was difficult, keeping up this facade of uncaring. But it would be worth it in the end, when the damage of years of having an inadequate watcher were erased, and Buffy was the self-reliant slayer she could be. And how much better would her life be without having a man, her watcher, twice her age completely in love with her, complicating her life at every turn.

"Hey." He jumped, not having heard her come in. The one habit of hers he hadn't eliminated yet. She still acted as though his home were her own. "Ready to observe?" She swung a small bag around her wrist, the stakes inside making hollow clinking sounds. He had arranged to escort her patrolling tonight, to observe her progress in some new things he had taught her.

He rose, taking his jacket and a few weapons of his own. "How are you?" He asked politely, and she responded with the neutral "fine" that she knew he expected. <Watcher and Slayer> he thought with satisfaction. This was how things were meant to be. <All right, old man, keep saying that. Maybe someday you'll actually believe it.>

The air was cool, and although it was dark, they could tell that it was a cloudy night, no light filtering through from the stars or moon. Buffy hated nights like this, feeling like prey instead of predator, as a slayer should . After several minutes had passed uneventfully, they each perched atop a tombstone, waiting.

Giles felt a prickling on the back of his neck. Something felt wrong, and it wasn't just the lonely ache he had grown accustomed to. "Buffy" he said abruptly.

Her eyes widened in hopefulness. In the past weeks, he hadn't called her by her name, in fact had taken to the unsettling habit of calling her "slayer" at times. She couldn't suppress a tiny smile of optimism. "Yes?" She swung her legs cheerfully, disgusted with her joy over one word, and nothing more.

He was frowning. Not good, but still, an expression. Any expression was welcome after 2 months of staring at a sheet of stone. "Be careful tonight." He instructed her, trying to return to the stiff watcher's tone, not fully succeeding.

She jumped down off of her seat, energized by the first sign that he cared since what the gang now referred to as "the thing." "You know me-" she said, taking a few steps backwards, still keeping an eye on her watcher just in case he decided to actually smile or something. "-I'm as careful as-" her remark was discontinued by a lucky vampire whom she had stumbled into. Before she could reach for her weapon, she was thrown through the air, landing forcefully atop a tombstone.

Giles rushed to his feet, attacking the smug vampire with precision and strength, immediately dusting the disgusting creature. He spun around to fully berate his slayer for her carelessness, stopping at the sight of her small body draped over the stone, whimpering softly.

"Buffy!" He couldn't run fast enough to her, his panic so overwhelming he could almost hear the proverbial ‘alarm bells.' <She should be up by now, she should be up, she should be complaining about getting her hair mussed, or her clothes dirty. Damn it, Buffy, complain!>

Before he reached her, she stood with great effort, doubling over in pain, her long hair brushing the ground in the process. "Giles." She gasped. He couldn't understand, she had taken worse blows than this before, had lain almost unconscious in the past and still managed a pun.

When he reached her, he tried to take her hand, but she hugged her arms around her body, still doubled over. She lowered herself to the ground, and then he saw.

Her pink slacks, now with mud on the knees, a red stain seeping into the material between her legs. It didn't belong, it didn't make sense. His mind whirled, turning over every possible injury in the span of three seconds. Shock hit him with a physical force as he realized.

"Giles, the hospital," she panted, "please! I have to go to the hospital!" She frantically pleaded with him. But all the man could do was stand rooted to the ground. "Giles! Please!" She was crying now, and rational thought finally made an appearance. He swept up the girl in his arms, striding for his car as quickly as he could. She clung to him, whimpering more from fearfulness than pain.

"Please, Giles, hurry. I can't lose it, it's all I have left of you. It's all I have left....of you.." She closed her eyes, hating that he had to find out this way. They could worry about that later. All she cared about was this life inside her, the one thing that had kept her from complete despair these past months.

All remnants of his icy mask had disappeared, revealing a man who felt deeply, and was now afraid of losing something dear.

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