Title: Eat, Drink, Watcher, Slayer 2/2
Author: Ruth
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns the secret recipe for BtVS. I'm just
doing a little home cooking. No copyright infringement intended.
WARNING: This is a very SPOILERY fic. Sundry spoilers of varying
degrees of reliability about upcoming episodes inspired me.
Giles poured fresh black coffee onto the crushed ice and condensed milk in four tall glasses, passing the creamy, caramel coloured confection around the table. They had worked their way steadily through all the dishes with only the occasional hesitation from Buffy and wrinkled nose from Dawn. Just as well Minh Ah had kept her selections within the bounds of western taste. Some of the things he had seen on the street vendors' stalls in Hanoi scarcely bore thinking about. Goose blood and peanuts...
The Ca Fe Sua Da, in contrast, was a variation on a French idea, a relic of colonialism and perfectly palatable to Western taste, albeit overloaded with caffeine. Giles was so jetlagged that his body had no idea whether it should be asleep or not, so he supposed it made little difference.
Minh Ah was handing round a plate of candies brought all the way from Vietnam, packed with her meagre luggage before she left her home village on the long journey by buffalo cart to the city. Dawn chose a piece and bit into it, and then peered more closely.
"This looks like...carrot?"
Giles nodded. "Very likely. Sweet vegetables as well as fruit are stewed in syrup and dried to make 'mut'. It's a traditional treat for the Vietnamese New Year. Cam un, Bac Minh Ah."
"I thought you didn't speak the language?" Buffy teased. "Sounds very impressive to me."
"I can say yes, no, hello, goodbye, please and thank you, "said Giles, "Plus about half a dozen basic phrases, including, crucially, how to ask for the 'gents'. Which will get one some way, but not far."
Buffy shot him an amused look, and tried to lighten the atmosphere, which had been distinctly tense since her revelation about Spike's chip.
"Get Dawn to eat her vegetables and that's far enough for today."
Dawn's lip twitched but her face remained stony. Another embarrassing lull ensued, broken only by a further attempt on Giles' part to include Minh Ah with an encouraging smile and a query in halting Vietnamese as to whether she had had quite enough to eat.
Her reply was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and a gaggle of excited voices pouring into the hallway. Willow and the Slayers-in-training were back from the Bronze, and in high spirits from the sound of it.
"Everything all right here?"
Willow craned her head round the dining room door, took in the slightly strained faces and raised her eyebrows in Giles' direction.
"Er, still having some trouble understanding each other," he covered, letting her think that the communication problems were purely cross-cultural ones. She nodded sagely.
"Well, I s'pose it'll take a bit more time. We're all pooped from the crazy Slayer group dancing: going to settle down for the night. Want any help cleaning up?"
"Thank you, no. You and Kennedy take charge of the refugee detail, and that will be service enough."
Willow smiled, a fleeting ghost of the wide Willow grin of yesteryear but genuine for all that, and re-joined her companions. Dawn pushed her chair back and, with a prim expression, began to collect up dishes. After a glance at Giles, who shook his head to indicate that he didn't think it the right time to try to bring Dawn round to her viewpoint, Buffy simply sat and watched her, tendering a brief thanks once the table was clear.
"I think I'll go to bed now," Dawn announced coolly. "Have to be in early: Debate Team prep."
"Dawn, I *will*…you'll get an explanation. Tomorrow, okay, when you're…when we're home from school. We really will talk about it," Buffy promised her sister.
"Sure." The tone of voice made it clear that Dawn didn't intend to give an inch.
Once she'd gone, Minh Ah, who could see that the other two had urgent things to discuss, made a little show of covering her mouth with her hand and yawning delicately. Buffy hastened to act the good hostess, finding a fold-out bed from the ones she'd scrounged from various families at the school and parking Minh Ah's things near it, leaving her to wash and change, taking turns with the other girls. Minh Ah responded with many thanks and bows of the head, addressing Buffy in grateful terms.
Buffy and Giles retired to the kitchen, ostensibly to make a start on the dishes, but once there, he made for the cupboard where she always used to keep his English teabags. Absurdly pleased to find a stock in residence, he brewed for both of them and they leaned against the counter, taking up two sides of the corner.
"I'm going to assume you had a good reason for doing what you did," Giles began, looking at his Slayer earnestly. "What I'm less sure of is that there was a good reason to do it without informing anyone in advance."
He was trying very hard not to sound - and feel - betrayed. He reminded himself that this independent Buffy was just what he had been striving for when he let go of the reins those many months ago. That she knew Spike a lot better then he did. In ways he couldn't, not living in Sunnydale since Spike's transformation. In ways he could hardly bear to think about. Nevertheless Buffy took part of his meaning.
"You mean, without telling *you*." She didn't sound defiant or peeved, only weary but determined. Giles nodded reluctantly.
"There really wasn't time, Giles. You should have seen him; it was horrible. I wouldn't let a dog suffer like that. I had to make an on-the-spot decision, and I made it. I think…I really think he's on the road to change. I want to give him a chance."
"It's a big risk, you must know that. He has all the strength he always had, the need to survive by drinking blood, the habits and associations. To do this and then to set him loose, to go who knows where and do God knows what…"
"He's my responsibility. Yes, it's a risk, but I weighed up all the factors just like you always said. The only alternative was to stake him, and I…just couldn't."
Giles forebore to comment, aware that much of what immediately occurred to him to say on that subject might not be welcome. Buffy was looking at him, trying to read his face, willing him to support her or at least not chastise. At last he framed his doubts as a question.
"Buffy, please don't feel that you must answer, it's probably none of my business, but do you think, just possibly, that your judgement might be…coloured with regard to Spike?"
"Yeah, platinum bleach blonde. I'm *joking*," she added hastily. "Do you mean, do I have 'feelings' for him: Angel-y feelings?" She looked down at the floor, turning her tea mug in her hands, deep in thought for a few minutes.
"Yes, I suppose I do mean that." << If she says yes, don't make a fuss, man. It's her choice; she doesn't owe you anything. You don't have to like it; you only have to accept. And hope it turns out a bloody sight better than the last time. >>
"You know, it's quite something, " Buffy said at last. "A vampire actually goes in search of a soul, endures all kinds of trials, comes back pretty screwed up and drags himself out of the basement, and tells you that it's all about you. That he did it, mainly, for you. To become a better man, in the hope you might love him. Quite a pitch."
"I imagine it is." But was she buying? Buffy opened her mouth to speak but what came out was:
"Willow?"
Giles did a double-take but turned to see the person in question hesitating in the doorway.
"Not trying to butt in, people; Kennedy just had a sudden need for feed. Any leftovers we can have?"
She helped herself to a couple of bowls and heaped a pile of cold rice and vegetables in each. Finding a tray and spoons she bore the lot out of the kitchen, saying over her shoulder:
"Midnight feast for two. Yum."
Buffy and Giles exchanged indulgent looks.
"I think Kennedy just might be good for her after all," Buffy reflected. "At first I thought, no; it's way too soon. But Kennedy's so different from Tara. Less intense, more…y'know, 'go for it'. Someone to get Willow started on life again. Just so long as I can protect them okay; she doesn't deserve to lose anyone else."
"Which brings us back to…" Before Giles could encroach on the dangerous territory of Spike again, a soft knock on wood heralded the approach of Minh Ah
"…Chi Ba Fe…Xin loi…Toi cen nuoc? May have water?"
Buffy sprang forward and found her a bottle from the refrigerator.
"Cam un rat nhieu, Chi Ba Fe. Thanks you."
"Giles," whispered Buffy. "How do I say 'you're welcome'?"
"Um, I'm not sure," he confessed.
"Gee, thanks. Er, that's okay, Minh Ah."
Minh Ah frowned and looked at Buffy suspiciously. "O.K." she repeated. She knew this phrase, the one Americanism that everyone seemed to have off pat. But surely Buffy did not mean to imply…
Giles leapt to Buffy's rescue. "When you address a Vietnamese person, you must use an honorific unless you know them well or it looks as if you're implying that they are your social inferior," he told her in an undertone.
"An honour what?"
"Honorific. Like Mr, Miss. You should address her as Bac Minh Ah."
"Right. Sorry, *Bac* Minh Ah." Minh Ah brightened noticeably and clutching the bottle of water, she exited the kitchen.
"So I'm...What did she say? Not Bac Buffy."
"No, you would be Chi Buffy. Miss Buffy. Minh Ah is a married woman, well actually probably a widow."
"*Married*?" Buffy was astounded. "She's not much older than Dawn!"
"Other cultures have very different customs to ours, Buffy. Over much of the less developed world, women are expected to marry in their teens. Especially in rural areas."
"And her husband is already dead? Poor kid. Vampires? They have those in Vietnam, right?"
"Certainly. I don't know exactly how he died, though I have to presume he is. I couldn't find any trace of him. He contacted the Council a few weeks ago and they made arrangements to have her collected. Before…well, you know what happened."
Buffy put her hand on his sleeve. "I know, Giles. You must be…pretty upset. I'm really sorry about your friends. And even Quentin."
Giles pulled out a handkerchief and polished his glasses thoughtfully, his eyes fixed on the middle distance. "Millennia of tradition, untold amounts of vital information, hundreds of good people, all lost. It does, as you would say, *suck to the max*." His expression took all humour out of the use of her idiom.
"Are there many of you left? What about Minh Ah's Watcher? Couldn't her husband get him out, too?"
"Er, Buffy… Her Watcher *was* her husband." Giles held his breath waiting for her response. He fully expected her to be shocked, and consequently was unprepared for the words:
"Wow. That's a new one, " delivered in a mature and considering way.
"Different culture, Buffy," Giles explained hurriedly. "To keep her identity secret in a Vietnamese village, the only way he could spend enough time with her to train and advise her would be for them to be married. He probably approached her parents some time ago, as soon as the Council identified her as a potential Slayer."
"So do you think they were *really* married? Like, um living together and…everything…?" Buffy trailed off meaningfully.
"I have no idea. It's none of our business, really."
"No, suppose not. Giles…"
Another of the Slayers-in-training - which one was it again: Chloe? Vi? - marched into the room, waved at them casually and helped herself to an apple from the dish on the counter.
"Thanks," she said as she departed, and Buffy sighed in exasperation.
"Look, we'd better go somewhere else to talk."
Giles was seriously drooping by now, but he stirred himself to full attention at her words. He wasn't sure he was up to a long inquisition. Buffy seemed determined to get it out of the way, and enough of his brain cells seemed to be in operation for the purpose. Although since she had in any case already made up her mind and acted upon it, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say to her.
"We can go up to my room. I get privacy there, if nowhere else these days. I don't want to take the risk of leaving them all here and going to your hotel, in case there's another attack."
As they tiptoed upstairs, a pair of ears, their owner still awake, trained by her Watcher to listen for the smallest sound, heard their going.
They had looked much like she and Hue, standing in their kitchen - well, in one of the only two rooms in their house - the day of their wedding; alone together, facing each other across a space, a weighty matter between them. As to Buffy and Giles, she knew not what that matter might be. For Hue and Minh Ah, the question had been, what sort of wife was she to be? He had laid out her destiny, shown her the proof in his books, by the mark on her skin, by his knowledge of her dreams, as soon as her parents had begun to look with favour upon his suit. They both understood the necessity of this marriage. Marriage in any case was a given in Minh Ah's expectations for her future, and those of her family. Hue needed to be close to her, to prepare her for what could be her destiny. Her mystical identity must be kept as secret as possible, to protect those close to her, to avoid accusations of bringing bad luck to the village by consorting with the spirit realm. The solution was clear.
Hue had taken her hand gently and assured her that he expected nothing from her that she was not willing to give. He had laid his bedroll on the platform in the bedroom and made a separate space for hers. For a month or more they had existed thus, growing together, fighting and studying in out-of the way places, working and living in their house and among their neighbours. A few times, she had caught him looking at her with shy regard, caught him hesitating after they had finished their evening meal and were preparing for rest, as if about to say something. No-one could have accused Minh Ah of being slow on the uptake. One night, she took matters into her own hands, as became one who might be a Slayer, and slipped under the blankets with him, gazing into his eyes with affection and welcome. They had embraced and…well, all had been well, and since that time, until the day he had left forever.
A single silent tear rolled down her face and soaked into the pillow under her head.
<< Ancestors, watch over him wherever his spirit dwells. >>
"I've made kind of a decision, Giles, and I'd like to know what you think."
They were sitting a decorous distance apart on the end of Buffy's bed, the door shut against further interruptions.
"'Kind of' a decision?"
"Well. It involves someone other than me. A bunch of someones really, but one in particular, so it's not totally up to me. The other party has to agree."
"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you." Was it his imagination, or had she moved a fraction closer? No. Imagination. Had to be.
"First of all, I'm sorry that there wasn't time to warn you about Spike and the chip. You'll have to trust me that it was the only decision I felt I could make in the circumstances. I'm sorry too if Dawn feels…I'm not sure what she feels. She used to be Spike's greatest fan, back when…well, before. But I'm sorry she's hurting, and mad at me. I'll have to do something about that. Maybe get all the shocks out of the way in one go."
Shocks. Giles really didn't like the sound of that, and it was not lost on Buffy, who patter his shoulder and projected a confident front.
"I'm sure she'll deal. Given a while, she'll see it's what I want, that it makes so much sense. She's a smart girl. But I need to talk to you first, adult to adult. About partnership. Get your input." She fidgeted slightly from side to side, moving by tiny stages in one direction.
"You know I'd be glad to, Buffy. I can't guarantee to know what I'm talking about, mind you, but I can make it sound terribly plausible and impressive."
Her sunny smile in response, for so long one of the lodestones of his life, lifted his heart. But what if she had, against what Giles regarded as plain common sense and self-respect, but perhaps according to the unfathomable logic of her heart, decided to renew her relationship with the vampire? He would simply have to set aside his own feelings, as ever. To think only of trying to give wise counsel, of what would be helpful to her. To ignore his personal dislike and distrust of Spike, which the news about the soul had only tempered, not erased. Not to mention, entirely abandon any faint hopes he might have cherished that someday…No, once Spike got hold of her completely, there was no way he'd ever let her go. An attitude Giles had a lot of sympathy with.
"'Cause I'm pretty sure you're the resident expert on this," Buffy was saying. And dammit, she *was* a good ten inches closer now. They were sitting almost knee to knee; he could smell her perfume, see the three tiny spots of chilli-tinged oil that had dripped off her chopsticks onto the front of her blouse some time during dinner. Suddenly she turned to look intently into his face.
"You're near-sighted, aren't you, Giles?"
"*What*? Oh. Oh, you mean literally. Well, yes, you know I am. Why?"
"Take your glasses off."
Mystified, he nonetheless obeyed. Buffy watched him put them in his top pocket. "I think at this distance, you'll see better without them. You'll know I'm serious. Plus, you won't be able to hide behind them."
"I don't…" Giles began to protest, then stopped and shrugged. He knew there were times when he did. Buffy looked into his eyes with even greater, quite unnerving, concentration.
"I want you to promise me that if you're not happy, at least you won't be angry. Or go away again. Or have another 'If I don't laugh I might pass out from shock' hyena fit like you did in the Magic Box that time."
Giles felt a nervous giggle bubbling up that very moment and quashed it. It came out instead as a yawn. He rubbed his hand tiredly over his face.
"Buffy, I'm sorry but if you don't get to the point soon I'll be passing out from exhaustion before you get the opportunity to shock me. *Just tell me*; whatever it is."
Unexpectedly, Buffy reached out and took his hand where it lay in his lap, interweaving their fingers, as if she might be trying to soften the blow of bad news. She took a deep breath.
"Okay. Here goes. Short version. I'm the Slayer. I don't get a so-called normal life. I've decided I'm going to stop trying to have one. I'm going to embrace the weirdness that is Buffytown. But I don't want to do it alone. I want a guy. Not a regular guy; wouldn't fit in around here. He has to love what I am, not just accept it, has to have what it takes to fight beside me, to get knocked down and get right back up again for more." She paused, wrinkling her nose, and inspected the chilli spots on her collar.
"There's no short version, is there?" she mused. "Buffy's history with men, for instance. A long and tangled tale, which I *won't * be boring you to sleep with. Anyway, you know it all already."
"Well, I wasn't here for the most recent chapter," Giles remarked evenly. A mercy for which he was grateful; he was starting to fear, however, that it had only been a temporary one.
"Didn't miss much," she grinned ruefully. "Nothing you wouldn't see on late night cable."
"*Buffy*!" Scarlet flooded Giles' face up to his hairline.
"All growed up now, remember? You're not exactly lilywhite yourself, Mr. Stevedore." She let go of his hand and waited patiently for his choking fit to stop. Then she leaned forward, elbows on knees, framing her words slowly.
"What I tried to find last year, with Spike…was only part of the story. Maybe because only part of me was finding it there: the dark, desperate, negative part. Now things are different; I've got someone who loves me, but who I can love in a new way, a good way, a whole way. So I'm going to ask him if he'd be willing to give it a try."
"I'm…glad you feel that things are better for you. I…I don't want to doubt that you've given this a lot of thought, nor to denigrate Spike's journey so far, but…I feel bound to point out that…"
"Spike? You think I mean Spike? Woah no. Don't get me wrong, I want to give him a chance to do right, to make up for the past however he can. I believe he might have it in him, eventually. But I don't love him. It's funny, but it's just because he *is* all about me. I don't want to be an obsession, a goddess. I want to be Buffy. I want someone who puts what's right before what I want, before what they want. Someone strong in his heart, not just strong in the arm."
"Then who?"
For answer she put her hand to his face and very gently traced his jaw line around his chin and then up to his ear, scratching the long day's worth of beard stubble with the tips of her fingers. Giles jumped at her touch and searched her face with his eyes, hardly daring to assume she might mean…
"I dunno. I thought maybe some scruffy English guy with a halfway presentable dress sense lately and as of this moment, garlic breath, but who I think loves me more than anyone else ever has in this life, but hasn't got around to admitting it to me. Unless I haven't been 'honing' that slayer sixth sense enough recently."
He stared at her, just stared, his expression slowly transforming from utter shock to complete joy and wonder. Her hand on his cheek hadn't moved, and she steadied herself with it as she moved forward to kiss him tentatively, then more thoroughly as she felt him respond in kind.
"Mmm. Garlic flavoured Giles. Think I'll put it on the menu."
There was a new harmony about this house. Minh Ah could feel it. Nothing to do with the placing of furniture, the position of windows or the flow of material energies; it was the harmony of Watcher and Slayer, of a pair destined to work together, to be true partners in life and in the fight against the dark.
Hue would have been pleased.
END
5 January 2003