TITLE: Conjuring 4/6
AUTHOR: Rari Coss
E-MAIL ADDRESS: RariCoss1956@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: It all belongs to Joss, the WB, UPN, Fox, Mutant Enemy and anybody else who feels they own it. I’m just borrowing, lost in admiration, and then giving them back, memories wiped clean. Except for Giles. Joss just sold him to me for quite a bargain. So, him I’m keeping. Just kidding.
FEEDBACK: Absolutely.

Buffy just sat on his bed for a while. She was glad Zurvan had suggested a rest. She needed a little time to regroup. It was difficult to believe that she was in England when just a little while ago she had been in Sunnydale with no plans to go anywhere. She was also having a hard time dealing with what had happened to Giles. A part of her wanted to go in the other room and crawl on the couch with that thing and just have him hold her. She missed his body, his size, and his strength. Buffy had wanted to hold him for so long that the desire in her for his proximity was like this live presence inside of her.

The other part of her wanted to run. Because that thing, it wasn’t Giles. And she missed that part of him more than anything. His humor, and view of the world, his experiences of being her Watcher, of knowing her better than anyone had ever known her. She missed his sarcasm, and eye rolling and the way he took his duty so seriously. She missed everything about him, the inside part. The mind and heart and soul of him.

It was disconcerting to be allied with Ethan, even more disconcerting to find herself understanding him a little. And she was angry with Giles, still angry with him for leaving her in the first place and even angrier that he had done this. It was as if he had killed himself. And it hurt to think that he would do that to her. And it hurt to think that she had contributed to his feeling so hopeless that he saw no other way out. Buffy understood hopeless. She understood wanting to be dead. But she didn’t understand it for him. It was essential for her that he be alive.

Buffy stood and walking across the room she looked out the window, wondering how often Giles had stood here and done the same. Looking with some inner vision across the Atlantic Ocean, across the United States, all the way to Sunnydale, all the way to her.

She looked back at the bed and realized that the last time it had been slept in was when Giles was still Giles. Buffy walked back over to it and lay down, reaching for his pillow. She laid her head on it; imagining she could smell him, sense him there. Again, a longing for him suffused her. She let out a cry, holding the pillow close to her face to muffle the sound. What would it take to bring him back? What did he need from her? She felt so lost. What could she offer him? More of the life they had had? More death and suffering? She couldn’t stay here with him. And he clearly didn’t want to be there. What could she give him, what would bring him back?

Getting up again she went to his closet. She looked at his clothes, running her hand over the fabrics. She had brought some pajamas but she took out one of his shirts and taking off her clothes she put it on, rubbing it close to her body. It almost covered her to her knees. Buffy went into his bathroom and touched his things there. She held his razorblade and squirted some of his shaving cream on to her hand. Finding his aftershave she sat on the toilet and just held it under her nose, her eyes closed, the smell making him feel so present to her.

Finally she walked back into the bedroom and looked around. He had done very little with the room. There were no pictures up, and there were several unpacked boxes still against the wall. She lay back on the bed and rolled over to the other side and the bedside table that was there. Opening the drawer she started poking around inside. There were a couple of books, and a handkerchief. She took that out and held it in her hand. Then she fished around some more.

She found an envelope and pulled it out. It wasn’t sealed so she opened it. Inside were several pictures, and all of them were of her. They were a little worn as if he looked at them all the time. They were a mix. One was of her at the prom, one a family portrait of her with Dawn and her mom. A couple looked as if they had been cut out of pictures of a larger group, one was even her yearbook picture, torn from the yearbook. Eight in all. She carefully opened up a small piece of newspaper. It was her obituary.

Buffy held them a little farther away as tears began to fall. The first few tears had caught her unaware and they had splattered on a couple of the pictures. It seemed so sad, that after all they had been through, after all they had meant to another that this was all he had. Eight lousy pictures. He should have scrapbooks of all their years together. Scrapbooks filled with mementos of all the silly times, and happy times, and scary times, and angry times, and make up times, and him and her times. Pictures of the two of them.

Buffy didn’t even think she had one picture of Giles. Not one. Suddenly it all seemed so stupid. So stupid that they were apart. So stupid that they had ended up here, a million miles apart in every way. She needed pictures of the two of them and for that they had to be together. And that meant he had to come home. Buffy snorted. That would be sure to work. She spoke softly. “Come on out Giles, come out and live again. Come home with me so we can have our picture taken together. So we can build a scrapbook of our lives together. You and me. Like a family.” She let out a sad laugh and shook her head.

Buffy put the pictures back in the envelope and replaced them in the drawer. Her heart was aching. She went back into the bathroom and retrieved his robe from where she had seen it hanging on the back of the door. Crawling back into bed she held it in her arms, wishing it were him. Buffy finally drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

***

In the morning Ethan went in to get Zurvan some clean clothes. He stood there and watched Buffy sleeping. She was curled up on the bed in one of Giles’ shirts, one of his handkerchiefs held in one hand and his robe tucked tightly against her. Against his will he felt a moment of compassion for her. Moving quietly he opened Giles’ closet and pulled out an outfit. Then he went into the bathroom and retrieved some of his toiletries. Zurvan had wanted to try and shave but Ethan had dissuaded him. Having Giles bleed from a dozen spots on his face seemed an inauspicious way to start the day.

Buffy’s eyes opened as Ethan was creeping across the room back to the door. “What are you doing?”

Ethan turned around. “Just getting him some clothes. He’s been wearing the same thing since he…well…he needs to take a shower and change.”

Buffy looked down at the robe she had clutched against her and she blushed. “Do you need…”

Ethan shook his head. “No.” He gave her a small grin. “It looks pretty happy where it is.”

Buffy’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. “I missed him.” She covered her face with one of her hands. “I’m sorry.” A sob escaped her.

Ethan let out a sigh and moved to sit on the side of the bed. “I never thought I’d ever say anything like this to you but I’m sorry I…” He paused and tried again. “I know this is hard for you and I’m sorry if I’ve made it harder.”

“I never meant to hurt him so much.”

“I know you didn’t.” He stretched out his legs in front of him. “I wish I hadn’t been so blind. I wished I’d understood how much he was hurting.”

Buffy put out a tentative hand and touched Ethan’s arm. “He wasn’t exactly share guy.” She let out a soggy giggle. “Willow called him the emotional marathon man.” Ethan barked out a laugh. Buffy spoke softly. “Did Zurvan say anything about him?”

Ethan shook his head. “No. I didn’t really want to ask.”

Buffy sat up. “We’ll figure it out, Ethan. We’ll get him back.” Her voice was shaky and still thick with tears as if in denial of her own words.

Ethan patted her hand and stood. “I hope you’re right.” He looked at Buffy. “Just so you’re prepared…Zurvan went out this morning and bought you jelly donuts.”

Buffy let out another sob and ran for the bathroom shutting the door behind her. Ethan just stared at the closed door for a moment. Zurvan had shown up with Ethan’s favorite kind of scone as well and Ethan had had to fight off some of his own tears. Heading back out Ethan shut the door to Giles’ bedroom behind him.

***

Buffy took a long hot shower and cried herself out. Finally she shut the water off, dried herself and got dressed. She wore her own clothes, a pair of jeans and a T-shirt but she covered the whole ensemble with another one of Giles’ shirts. Ethan had already seen her at her worst. Between wearing one of Giles’ shirts to sleep in and holding his robe she knew she must have looked about as pathetic as she could be.

Ethan noticed the shirt but he didn’t say anything. Zurvan was bustling around in the kitchen. He looked up when Buffy came out. “Ah, you’re awake. I have finished accessing his memories. He seems to know many of your preferences.” Zurvan pointed at the box on the counter. “I have bought you donuts, jelly ones.”

Buffy was grateful Ethan had warned her. She was able to give him a small smile. “Thanks.”

Zurvan nodded. “It was an interesting task. I have tried several tasks this morning. I believe that I have been successful at achieving the appropriate end result.” He ticked off a list on his fingers. “I have shopped and spent money. I have taken a shower and gotten dressed. And of course, I have made more tea.” He looked down at himself. “Have I dressed correctly?”

Buffy looked at him. He was wearing jeans and a Henley that was not tucked in. His feet were bare. Somehow it made his attire seem so intimate. Giles was rarely this casual. Buffy blushed. “You look fine.”

“Good. This type of clothing is unfamiliar to me. So much of this is unfamiliar. It will take me some time to sort it all out.”

Buffy felt a surge of anger and she had to fight to keep her mouth shut. She wanted to hit him for even talking as if he was here to stay, as if he had a right to experiment with this life. Buffy glanced at Ethan and saw the anger there in his eyes as well. For a second their eyes held and then he looked away.

Zurvan pushed the box closer to her. “Have one. I have eaten two already.” Buffy reluctantly took one and she nibbled on it. Zurvan opened the refrigerator door and pulled out some orange juice. “I believe you like this as well. Shall I pour you a glass?”

Buffy lost it. “Stop it. Stop acting like you’re him. You’re not.”

Zurvan just looked at her. “Ah, this distresses you. I understand. I thought you would find it comforting.” He looked at the juice in his hand. “However, despite your distress, perhaps you would still like some juice. Would you? Shall I pour you a glass?”

Buffy let out a sigh and nodded. “Sure.”

Zurvan nodded in satisfaction and poured her a glass. “I like these kitchen activities.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Great, Emeril’s taken over.”

Ethan let out a snort. Then he got everyone’s attention. “Let’s get back to the problem at hand. I’m afraid the longer he’s gone the less chance we have of getting him out.”

Zurvan moved to sit at the table. “I think you are right. I have not sensed him at all since last night.”

Buffy let out a long breath. “What made him do it? What pushed him? Was it me? Was it because I wouldn’t talk to him?” Buffy felt it had to be more than that. She and Giles had gone through other times of not talking, of being estranged from one another, and he’d been all right. He hadn’t been happy about it but he’d been all right.

Zurvan pursed his lips, again looking so much like Giles that Buffy closed her eyes. “His feelings for you were quite complex.”

As he paused Buffy opened her eyes. “Tell me about them. I need something to go on here. I need to know what to do.”

Zurvan hesitated. “It is difficult. If it was just thoughts it would be easy for me to communicate them, but all his thoughts are coupled with strong emotions and I do not understand them all.”

“Just try.”

“Very well.” He thought for a moment. “His strongest emotion is hard for me to explain. It is surrounded by sadness and other emotions I haven’t identified yet.”

“So sadness isn’t his strongest emotion?”

Zurvan shook his head. “No.” He stared at Buffy. “Let me try and describe it. It centers here.” He touched his chest, over his heart. “It makes it ache but in a different way than sadness does. It makes it feel full.” He thought for a moment. “He called it love.”

Buffy’s eyes grew bright. “I loved him too.” She caught herself. “I…I love him too.”

Zurvan frowned, not at her but at his memories. “You loved him as well?”

Buffy nodded. “Yes, why?”

“He did not believe that to be true. It is why he left.”

Buffy let out a cry. “He didn’t think I loved him? He left because of that?” She turned to look at Ethan. “That doesn’t make any sense. He knew I loved him.”

Zurvan looked puzzled. He sat there at the table thinking. Finally his eyes lit up in comprehension. “This word love, I see that it gets used in many ways.” He pointed to the box on the counter. “He loved jelly donuts, he loved to learn, he loved the rain.” He glanced at them both. “Is that normal? To love in so many different ways and to love many different things?”

Ethan nodded. “It is an overused word. It is used for affection, for preference, for exclamation. And occasionally it is used to describe someone who has extra meaning for you, someone who is very important to you.”

Zurvan looked at Ethan. “He loved you.”

Buffy watched as Ethan struggled to keep his composure. He blew out a long breath and nodded. “Go on.”

Zurvan looked at Buffy. “His love for you was another kind of love.” He looked frustrated at his inability to adequately explain.

Ethan was the one who guessed. “He was in love with her, wasn’t he?”

Zurvan considered the phrase. Then he nodded. “Yes, that is the way to say it. In love. He was in love with you.” He looked at Buffy. “Is that phrase significant to you?”

Buffy opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I…he…” She shook her head feeling completely flummoxed. “He never told me, he never did anything...” She glanced at Ethan and at the look on his face she felt defensive. “How was I…how…?” She finally looked at Zurvan. “How long had he felt that way?”

Ethan again was the one that guessed. “I think he figured it out after you died. He kept talking about it being too late but I just assumed he was talking about the fact that you were dead. Which he was, but he obviously was speaking of something more. And it would explain why he’s been the way he’s been since he left you.”

Buffy was still grappling with the idea. She looked at Zurvan. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He did not believe it possible that you would return his feelings, and he did not think you were in the right state of mind to even discuss it.”

“If he loved me so much why did he leave?”

Zurvan had to think again but finally he spoke. “There was too much sadness. He couldn’t stand being so near to you, being with you every day, having you treat him like he was your…” He looked confused for a moment, “…I do not understand. A mother is a female, correct?” At Buffy’s nod he continued. “Why does he think you thought he was your mother?”

Buffy waved her hand. “Long story. Finish what you were saying.”

“All right. He couldn’t stand to be with you and not be able to touch you. He wanted to engage in mating rituals with you.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped but then she thought about the short time they had spent together after she had been brought back. To his reaction to first seeing her, to his repeated attempts to touch her, to take care of her, all the way to his announcement that he was leaving her, that he had to leave because he couldn’t say no to her. She’d been so blind. And she’d looked to Spike to make her feel alive when all the time…Alarmed at where her thoughts were going Buffy stood so fast her chair fell. She looked at Ethan. “I gotta go take a walk.”

Ethan looked at her, wondering what was going on in her head. Finally he nodded. “Don’t get lost and don’t be long.”

“I won’t be long. I just need to…” She shook her head. “And I won’t get lost. I always know where I am. It’s a Slayer perk.”

He gestured towards the door of the flat and with that as encouragement Buffy headed towards the door. She turned before she left. “Do I need a key?”

“One of us will be here. But if it makes you more comfortable take his.” He pointed to the keys sitting on the table by the door.

Buffy took them mostly because they were his. Scooping them up she crammed them in her pocket and she left.

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