Title: "Ten Conversations" 2/2
Author: Ruth
Disclaimer: Buffy, Giles, Willow and Anya belong to Joss Whedon, ME
etc. I'm just putting words in their mouths.
Feedback: oh all right, go on, then… rufusruff@hotmail.com
"Hey, I missed you at lunch. Where ya been?"
"Er, chem. lab, doing some analysis and some reading."
"Is that a 'don't ask because you won't understand the answer' face, or a 'don't ask because we're talking spooky chemistry with purloined ingredients' face?"
"Both. Um, neither. Sort of."
"Spill, Will. Why the face at all?"
"I don't know if I should tell you this, or even if there's anything to tell. Plus, it's kinda private."
"Best friend clause. We don't have private. Tell, tell, tell!"
"Not my private, Giles' private...maybe. I went over to his place and well, while he wasn't looking, I filched a bit of that powder. The one that makes the smelliness. He was being all evasive with the body language and not making eye contact, and I wondered if it was just some advanced stuff he didn't think I was ready for. I took it to the lab to tease out the ingredients, see if they'd give me clue..."
"So, Sherlock Rosenberg, what's the elementary on the elements?"
"It's an strange mix, actually. Things that don't normally go together. See, there's this thing in magic about signatures and affinities where you get some idea of what a spell is supposed to do and how it works from the groups of herbs or minerals they belong to, their colour and shape, atomic weight, molecular structure...Don't go to sleep, Buffy, because I *am* getting to the important part, which is that a good part of the base of the powder is made from an Amazonian herb called 'Muira Puama'."
"Well, that explains everything! .Er, sarcasm there, by the way. Willow, *what* are you talking about?"
"Sorry. It's a key ingredient of some folk remedies that are supposed to...this is where it gets a bit tricky, 'cause there might be another explanation..."
"Go with the simplest one. That's what Giles says."
"Oh. Okay. It's something people...male-type people...use to give them a bit more...oomph, if you know what I'm saying."
"Like Ginseng or caffeine pills? Giles seemed fairly awake and alive at training Saturday. Maybe it's for those all night research sessions, though we haven't had too many lately."
"No, Buffy, I'm talking about a more...personal kind of oomph. Um, bedroom-related..."
"My God. You mean...?"
"Mm hmn. *But*, it doesn't make sense combined with the other ingredients."
"It makes no sense, period. What does *Giles* want with more bedroom anything? Since Olivia disappeared back wherever she came from, the only women I've even seen talk to him apart from us were at the shop. Unless he's seeing one of them behind my back...er, I mean, without me knowing. You've got another face on; which one is it now?"
"It's a fertile hybrid between my 'oh-oh, what's up with Buffy?' and my 'let me finish' faces."
"Nothing's 'up'. Finish."
"What I was going to say, was that the other ingredients, both in the base powder and what we call the 'grace notes', like music or perfume..."
"It's not perfume, *that's* for sure. Okay, my bad, interrupting again."
"There are other ingredients that are meant to promote purity of thought and action, contentment, clear-headedness. Some of them are directly opposed by their nature to the action of the Muira. Others, I'm not sure what they are exactly, except..."
"Except..."
"There's just a teeny trace of yew bark. It's a wood that's very good to make stakes out of, and since it hangs around cemeteries a lot, it's traditionally associated with the Slayer."
"Isn't yew poisonou...the *Slayer*? You mean me?"
"Yep. And it's mainly the berries that are toxic, by the way."
"Hold on. *My* Watcher is doing weird sex magic with bits of my Slayer tree? I think he and I need to talk."
"Now, Buffy, don't go all third degree on him. Maybe the yew's a mistake, or it means something else this time. Maybe he's just...maybe he's lonely. The spell might be to find him someone who can accept that you'll always come first in his life, I don't know. Better to leave well alone. Don't make me sorry I told you."
"*That* face I recognise. It's the 'don't mess with your best bud, who's a hot mamma witch'."
"Damn straight. Be very afraid."
"So, Watcher mine; one Slayer, reporting for duty. Well, after duty in fact."
"Glad to see you, Buffy. All went well, I trust?"
"It did. Witness me here alive and puncture-free. *Joke*, Giles...."
"Yes, I see that a joke was intended."
"What's with the gloomies? You were all Zen and 'captain of my fate' on Saturday. Relax. Enjoy some quality time with your girl."
"My… but I don't have…"
"Good. Er, I meant… me, dummy. I'm your Slayer, aren't I? Properly and officially reinstated, the both of us. You're my Watcher and I'm your girl."
"Y-yes, I suppose after a fashion, that's true. So, what might it consist of, this 'quality time'?"
"Pouring me a *giant* glass of orange juice and lemonade, then coming and sitting on the couch and talking for a while."
"All right."
"Mmmm. Long and cold, just how I like it. *My drink*, that is. You're not blushing, Giles. Why aren't you blushing?"
"Should I be?"
"Anya said you were like this before. All tolerant and non-stuttery even when she was describing exactly how rubbing on that oba root helped get almost anyone in the mood for smoochies, and the guy bought three."
"It's not for me to pass judgement on other people's private lives."
"But you still get all…like you don't want to hear, or even think about it. Or you used to."
"I was brought up to believe such things were not for casual conversation, that's all."
"I always found that sorta cute. Part of the Gilesness that is Giles. So what made you change your mind?"
"I, um, that is, I…haven't, precisely. It just doesn't…bother me so much, lately."
"Why not?"
"Well, um… Speaking of private lives, how is, er, Hunter, I believe it was?"
"Hunter? Oh, yeah. We…broke up, I guess. If you count two dates as a relationship. He was so….immature. I mean, how seriously can you take a guy who sounds like a cartoon character?"
"That's the fault of his parents, surely?"
"Not the name, though come to think of it.... Sounds like, as in talks like. Walks like, acts like, kisses like…I could go on."
"K-kisses?"
"Now that's more like the stuffy Brit I know and love. Yeah, you remember, boy, girl - well, mostly - with the pressing of the lips?"
"Dimly."
"Giles, I'm sorry, that was rude, wasn't it? Look, I know it's been a long time since you… I'm sorry Olivia didn't want to visit any more, and I'll never be sorry enough about Jen…"
"Shhh. What's done is done. Not your fault."
"Jenny was. Partly. And Olivia too. If you weren't my Watcher, you'd be sitting in your armchair in front of the fire right now with a pipe and The Times watching your children having a snowball fight."
"There's no snow in England at the moment. And I've never smoked a pipe in my life."
"Call it colourful detail. But you wouldn't be in Sunnydale, having to look after me all the time. Having to do spells just to…oops."
"S-spells? I don't know what you..."
"*Giles*. I haven't seen you look like that since Willow caught you reading...what was it… "Boys' Own Book of Adventures", behind the stacks in the Library at school. What have you been up to?"
"Up to?"
"You can't play that 'repeat the question so you don't have to answer it' game with me. Living with a teenager, here. Willow said...oh, now she's gonna be mad at me..."
"*Willow's* going to be angry? What about me? It sounds as if *Ms. Rosenberg* has jumped to a lot of conclusions on no evidence!"
"There's evidence. Forensics and everything, and oops, not what I meant to say. How's about you and I just go for total honesty and see where it gets us, huh?"
"Total honesty. Very well. To be totally honest, I don't want to tell you what the spell is for. It isn't really any of your business."
"That's what you said when Eyghon possessed half your old friends and left me with a nifty tattoo of evil and an interesting near-death experience. Anya said you've been acting funny. Willow said the same. No more funny Watchers in my town, please."
"Oh, all right, since nothing is sacred any more, it seems. Put bluntly, it was an apparent solution to a.... difficulty I was experiencing. A lack of...outlets for normal...feelings, some disturbing thoughts. I decided to, er, attack the, um, root of it, so to speak..."
"Not hearing bluntness yet. I have stakes with more bluntness. Just say it."
"It was a spell to remove my sex-drive. Happy, now that I've utterly humiliated myself?"
" Oh. I see. God, Giles. Why on earth would you want to do that to yourself?"
"It's been nothing but a burden recently. I'm glad to be free of it, helps me concentrate on my work and my duties as Watcher without...unwelcome distractions."
"But...it's so weird. So, that's it? You don't get...those kind of feelings... *ever again*? I don't think drastic's the word for this, Giles. I mean, you seemed so...I never thought you would need to..."
"Contrary to popular opinion, I'm a man, Buffy. Not a textbook with arms, a foreign language dictionary or a stuffed tweed suit. A man made from flesh and blood and subject to exactly the same drives as the rest of the male population, the same...frustrations in the absence of... The spell's effects are temporary; if I want to keep them, I need to take a dose and say the incantation every five days."
"So you *were* going to drink it! You did! Ewww. Are there side effects, apart from 'The Smell Which Overstays its Welcome'? I hope you checked all that out. And I know you're a man. I just meant: you're such a grownup about all that. You could give papers on self-control. I didn't mean you weren't…you're the best man I know, Giles."
"Buffy, that's so...I don't know what to say. Thank you for your concern; and for the compliment. But even I can take advantage of a short cut, once in a while. There are no side effects as far as I can tell, and if I brew it in the open fresh air, that will dispense even with the odour. Don't worry, I'll be better for it. A better Watcher, more even-tempered probably, clearer headed. What you need."
"It's not all about me, Giles. What about you? Is that what *you* need? What you truly want?"
"We can't always have what we want. Sometimes we shouldn't even want it. Drink up your juice."
"Good morning, how can I help y...oh, it's you. Bag, please. Don't steal anything."
"Nice to see you too, Anya. I just wanted to look something up in one of the reference books."
"Did you check with Giles? You'll have to sit with it here. We're not a lending library."
"He and Buffy were meditating when I put my head round the training-room door just now. I didn't like to disturb them. I think they'll be a while."
"Okay then, just for now, if you're really in such a hurry. You could glance eagerly at the merchandise every so often. It creates an atmosphere conducive to other customers browsing and buying. Or so I read. Modelling positive behaviour. It's so much more effective than hectoring people. Do you have something caught in your throat?"
"Hrrmph. No, no, I'm fine. Positive behaviour, check."
"Yes, like Giles. He's stopped all the 'Anya, please don't talk about your private life at work' lectures. In fact if I didn't know better, I'd say he's not been himself at all lately. When Buffy turned up for training in that white lycra that left absolutely nothing even to my imagination, he didn't say or do a thing."
"Does he usually?"
"Oh, yes. He hides it very well, but I've seen it before. His back gets all straight and he swallows a lot. Sometimes he suggests she might be cold and would she like to borrow a sweatshirt. It's either puritanical disapproval or getting aroused and trying to hide it. Maybe both. Last time? Nada. Strange."
"Anya! Giles doesn't think about Buffy that way. He's a..."
"Man. He's a man. They're all the same."
"I was going to say, he's a gentleman. Anyway he's a Watcher. Buffy's like his student. His child. He loves her, but not *that* way."
"'Gentlemen' just have a thin veneer of civilisation that stops them actually doing what they're thinking about doing. And if you think Buffy's a child...well, I thought lesbians were supposed to be sophisticated. I've seen it before, I told you. Abelard and Heloise, Rossetti and Lizzie Siddall. Watchers and Slayers: *lots* of those over the years. There's something about teaching that's all sexy. Especially mystical stuff. Don't tell me Tara helping you with your magic doesn't add a bit of zing."
"Mmm. Doing that astral projection together the other day.... er, sorta seeing what you mean. But you say he's changed?"
"Just the last few days. Happened virtually overnight, like..."
"Like magic. I wanted to do that once, make wrong...well, inconvenient, feelings go away."
"Xander told me. Might have worked. At least that one wasn't as...extreme.... as.... oh D'Hoffryn! I knew I'd smelled that smell before!"
"The 'someone dropped old socks in the fire' smell? Giles' apartment reeked of it when I went there."
"And there were little traces on him. Not enough for most people to notice, thank goodness. Shopkeepers should always smell nice. But that's why it was so useless for vengeance. You couldn't administer it without the guilty man's knowledge."
"It's a *vengeance* spell?"
"No, it's a spell for cooling the passions. Deep freezing them, in fact. You can do a general one, which makes you not think about sex or want to have it at all, or a specific one for an attraction to a particular person, or combine the two if you're really desperate. Used to be very popular with monks and nuns, you know, if they could steer clear of the Inquisition finding out they were using black magic."
""It's *black* magic? Is it dangerous?"
"Black, only because it goes against nature. It' s not natural to make yourself a eunuch, but it's not dangerous, as such, just... over the top. Giles should drop all that propriety nonsense and make a move. She can only say no."
"She could say a lot more than that. So you really think this is about Buffy?"
"The clincher would be what he put in the grace notes. You'd need a signature ingredient. Rosemary for a woman with that name, cowslip for a dairymaid..."
"Yew."
"What about me?"
"The Slayer."
"No, I'm not, that's Buffy. Willow, where are you going? I thought you wanted to research. Don't forget your bag."
"Oh. My. God."
"It all fits, Buffy. Giles...he loves you...wants you. But he's trying to do the right thing, because...he doesn't want to lose you. He'd rather feel nothing than take the risk of upsetting you. And, well, it must be difficult for him. You spend so much time together, all intimate with the hand to hand combat, pretending to kill each other, then the ritual sleeping together...I mean, eyes-closed-lying-on-mats together..."
"What am I gonna do, Will? Poor Giles."
"You don't have to 'do' anything, do you? If he feels he has to do this, would rather it be this way, maybe you should just respect his choice and be grateful. Being your Watcher means, *you* mean...everything to him, really. You need him to help you be the best Slayer ever. You need him to stay your friend. He's doing the best he can to keep doing those things. It's not like you're going to...Buffy? What's the matter?"
"Will, you ever have one of those epiphany thingies?"
"Yes? Buffy? How can I help you?"
"Is it being totally honest if you tell the truth, but leave stuff out?"
"Either that is a philosophical question, or..."
"It's an or. You told me that spell was just to...get rid of generalised hornies. And it wasn't, was it?"
"It has that effect, yes. I told you, and I'd really rather leave it at that if you don't mind."
"So the yew bark's just to add flavour."
"Yew...how did you...? Willow, of course. Damn. Curiosity will kill that girl one of these days. If I don't get to her first. I…I'm sorry, Buffy. You must be horrified."
"How long's this been going on? I don't like finding things out like this, all sneaky and surprising."
"I...you were never supposed to find out at all. I tried so hard not to feel it, to remind myself who you are, who I am. If I managed not to think of you that way, I only dreamed about you instead. It wasn't merely… physical. Please believe that. It felt like…but I knew it couldn't be, shouldn't be. I kept hoping I would...get over it, that it was a temporary infatuation or a...I don't know, transference. Some anomaly brought on by stress and lack of... and how glad I was to be working closely with you again. How much I truly care for you. Not that it was really..."
"Falling in love? Why not?"
"Because...because it's completely ridiculous! You're a beautiful twenty-year-old. I'm forty-six, going grey and having to make an effort not to run to fat. You're the Slayer. I'm supposed to guide and help you, not pine for you. What could ever come of it, except the ruination of our working partnership and a conversation like this, starting with 'Eww' and ending with 'I never want to see you again'?"
"Don't recall saying 'eww'. And I do want to see you again. It's Wednesday, Giles. Have you taken your potion yet?"
"No. I was going to start making it. Soon."
"Don't. I don't think you'll be needing it after all."
"I thought you said..."
"Uh huh. I want you to be my Watcher, but I don't want you taking any smelly cold herbal showers. I want you to listen. Ever since Riley left, I've been thinking about where I went wrong with the whole boyfriend issue."
"It wasn't you, Buffy, *he* decided - "
"Listening Giles. Not talking Giles. Not Riley in particular; my hang ups and bad choices in picking 'em. Cursed vamp: romantic to the max, but baaad in real life. Slimy 'one-night-stand' Parker: one week's acquaintance plus smooth line of b.s. equals: stupid Buffy. All American farm boy 'out of his depth in magicland' Riley: heading for disaster, and now at the terminus. Wrong for me. Right for me would be: strong heartbeat, emotionally stable, unfreaked by, indeed completely supportive of, Slayericity; mature, wise, caring and loyal. Having a sexy British accent wouldn't hurt either. You keeping up with me, here, Rupert?"
"You don't...don't mean...?"
"I mean I'd like for us at least to give it a shot. It might not work out, you know, if I'm being *totally honest*. There *are* issues... but, like I said before: you're the best man I know. Maybe, just maybe, I deserve you."
"...."
"This is your cue to say something now, Giles. Or...no, I've a better idea."
Wow...and then...there was kissing? What was it like?"
"The spell was wearing off, so... Experience *definitely* pays, Will. Then he said.... he loved me, and lots of other way mushy poetic stuff. It was so adorable, with the stutter, and I thought he might actually cry at one point. Then..."
"Go on, go on! What else did he say?"
"We, er...neither of us said too much after that."
"Why not...Oh."
END
February 16 2003