Title: The Assistant 4/?
Author: Sweetdoggie
Disclaimer: No permission has been granted to use the characters. They are owned by their creator, Joss Whedon, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB, and Mutant Enemy. This story is non-profit and is intended solely as entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended.

Giles and Merrick sat stunned by the events of the evening. Buffy, the love of both their lives had died and been resuscitated by Xander Harris. She had thwarted the prophecy in a totally unexpected way. Giles tried to pour a cup of tea but his hand was shaking too badly to actually get any into the teacup. He looked at it in a surprised way. He felt calm, but apparently his body was telling him otherwise. Merrick sat gasping for air in his chair, his color bad. “A, are you all right?” Giles asked him, hearing his stutter manifest itself as it did when he was stressed.

Merrick nodded. “I think perhaps I should go home and go to bed, though.” He tried to stand and simply couldn’t do it, looking at Rupert in surprise. “My legs don’t seem to want to cooperate. How odd.”

Giles heard his own voice as if speaking down a long tunnel. “Shock, I should imagine.” His head thunked solidly on the table as he passed out.

Merrick looked at him but simply didn’t have the wherewithal to aid him. Instead he poured himself a cup of tea and stared at the skeleton of the Master lying in a pile of ashes in front of him. He wanted to get up, kick the filthy thing until it was nothing more than a pile of bone chips, but knew he couldn’t. He opted for another sip of tea. Buffy had gone home, crawling into her bedroom window and no doubt sleeping the sleep of the just. His hand shook as he thought of his beloved Slayer lying dead in the fetid pool of the Master’s lair.

Up until this point, he had tolerated Xander. The boy was annoying and juvenile, but an adequate fighter so he had adapted to having him around. Now, however, his status had been elevated. He had saved the Slayer and there was no greater gift he could have given the Watcher. Merrick made a mental note to thank the boy, no, the young man, when next he saw him.

Rupert was beginning to make sounds as if he were waking up. That was good. He wondered if he were capable of walking yet and tried his legs. They were weak as cooked spaghetti, but he thought he could finally make them function. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled a large black garbage bag from a box. Setting that on the table, he found several bottles of holy water and set them next to the bag. Lastly, he rummaged around till he found a pair of work gloves. They joined the rest of the makeshift supplies.

Giles raised his head slowly off the table and looked around. It hadn’t been a dream. His Slayer had died and been brought back, the Master was dead, and he owed Xander Harris his inestimable thanks. Merrick was finally able to walk, he saw. That was good as there was absolutely no way he could have carried the man to the car. He saw the supplies that had been gathered and knew his night was far from over.

He stood and drew on the work gloves. Though his very flesh crept at the thought, he knew he would have to put his hands on the bones of the Master. He shuddered. How powerful the creature must have been to not simply explode into dust as a normal vampire would do. Rumors abounded about the thing before him. Some said that he had been a priest of high rank who had been corrupted by dark magics even before his death at the hands of a vampire, but other, darker, older rumors hinted that he might have been a Watcher, gone rogue at the death of his charge. Giles knew which theory he put stock in.

He shoveled the bones into the sack without a word to his partner. Next, he got out a small vacuum cleaner and cleaned the remnants of dust from his floor. When the spot was as clean as he could make it, he got down a spray bottle filled with holy water and dusted the area thoroughly. Where minute particles of the Master’s flesh clung persistently, small pillars of smoke arose as the holy water vaporized them.

Looking at Merrick, he nodded toward the bag. “We must get rid of this.”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about the best way. I think we should bury the bones in sanctified ground, douse the whole lot with holy water and read the burial service for the dead over it. Maybe place a cross over the remains.”

Giles nodded again. “Couldn’t hurt, I suppose. You up to it?”

“I think so. This must be done and I wouldn’t send you off alone. The children shouldn’t be involved with this if we can help it.” Merrick told him.

They packed up their grisly cargo and carried it with the supplies to the trunk of Rupert’s battered car. Merrick got in and rested his head on the cool window as Rupert started it up and drove to the nearest cemetery. They climbed carefully over the fence not wanting to tear the garbage bag and walked to a secluded spot under a tree. Giles dug a hole three feet deep and together they poured a container of holy water into it, soaking the bottom and sides of the pit.

Giles unfastened the bag and unceremoniously dumped the skeleton into the hole. It smoked as it came into contact with the blessed water. They poured another bottle over it and Giles was certain he saw the bones themselves writhe under the stream of liquid. He filled in the pit and poured a third bottle onto the turned earth. Looking at his friend, they began the burial service prayers. When it was over, they walked back to the car.

“What are you going to do with the remains you pulled up in your vacuum cleaner?” Merrick asked him curiously.

“I thought I would scatter them over running water.” Giles told him.

Merrick nodded his approval. “Very good.”

“Can this nightmare really be over, John?” Giles asked tiredly.

“I don’t know, my boy. I certainly hope so, if only for our dear Buffy’s sake.” The older man sighed. “She has faced so much in such a short time. She’s grown remarkably as a person and as a Slayer and that is because of you, Rupert.”

“You’ve been here too, John. She loves and trusts you.” Giles rubbed his eyes slowly.

“Yes, she does. But I am not her true Watcher anymore. You have that role, Rupert. Whether or not we acknowledge it, the fact remains that you are the Watcher and I am the assistant. That’s as it should be. Buffy is starting to see you in a less paternal role. Your actions tonight spoke deeply of your love for her. To try to go in her place…” He shook his head. “For her to knock you out and go, even though she knew it meant her death…”

“I would have died for her, gladly, John. I’ve never felt like that about anyone, ever. She is my reason for getting up each morning. I don’t know what I would do without her.” Giles spoke tremulously.

Merrick put a hand on his shoulder. “You will do what you must when the time comes, Rupert, just as I will. Let us pray that it is a long time from now.”

Giles covered his eyes with his hands as if to blot out the thought that Buffy would not live forever. He couldn’t deal with such a concept, not after the events of this night. Merrick looked at him for a long moment before speaking.

“Let’s go home, Rupert. We both need to rest.” They drove slowly back to the house.

Giles woke the next morning and wondered why he felt so odd. Then he remembered the events of the previous evening. His Slayer, his love, had died and been brought back. He couldn’t wait to see her, to touch the reality of her soft, shining hair, or to feel the smooth satin of her skin. At this point, he wouldn’t even mind if she was pummeling him in training. It would mean that she was alive.

He got up and made breakfast for himself and Merrick, humming happily. School was out, Buffy was alive, the Master was dead, and life was good. The older Watcher came downstairs reluctantly wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that Buffy had forced him to buy, telling him that he looked way too conspicuous in his old suit and trench coat. She had started working on Giles wardrobe as well, he noticed with a smile. She had given him a soft cashmere sweater a few weeks earlier. Her rationale was that it would be much warmer for him when he was patrolling than his traditional tweed jacket. He had worn the pullover every evening since she had given it to him, carefully removing it before patrol to spare it the ravages of vampire dust and demon blood. Merrick had caught him holding the garment in his lap, simply stroking the silken weave, and smiling softly.

Merrick would have relished a chance to have a lie in, but he knew he needed to be up for Giles. He was surprised to hear a knock on the front door. He went to it and saw his Slayer standing on his doorstep. “Buffy! What brings you here so early this morning?”

“I’m going to go to LA for a while. My dad wants me to come, now that school is out.” She had a strange look on her face but he couldn’t identify it.

“What about your duty?” He asked her.

“Can’t be helped.” She told him indifferently.

“Let me call Rupert. He will want to speak with you.” He started to turn away but she grabbed his arm.

“I don’t have time, Merrick. I just stopped by so you wouldn’t worry about me. I’ll see you when I get back.” She backed away from the door and ran down the sidewalk while he looked after her in dismay.

Giles came into the room a moment later and saw Merrick standing by the front door, a look of shock and consternation on his face. “What’s the matter, John?”

The older Watcher looked at him sadly. “It was Buffy. She stopped by to tell us that she’s going on a visit to her father and will see us when she gets back.”

“B, but surely she knew I would wish to speak to her.” Giles looked lost. “We are getting so close, Merrick. She cares about me; I know she does. Why would she simply leave me, leave us, like this?”

Merrick put his hand on the Librarian’s shoulder. “I don’t know, my boy. I expect she is feeling very strange now. She died and came back. No one faces their own death without some sort of emotion. I imagine that she’s feeling very confused right about now.” Merrick tried to find some justification for her behavior.

“Yes, that must be it.” Giles agreed. “She’s just feeling confused. Probably she will call when she gets to her father’s house. We can talk about things then.”

Merrick allowed his gaze to settle on the younger man. “I hope so, Rupert. But you must remember that Buffy is, in many ways, still a child. She is deeply resentful of her destiny. Perhaps she simply needs a bit of space, a little time to be a normal girl. We can allow her that, surely.”

Rupert nodded, but he still looked lost. It felt as if Buffy was rejecting him personally and it broke his heart. By now he was deeply in love with her and to have her leave him without even a word was like a knife in the gut. Shoulders slumped; he walked into the kitchen and continued to make breakfast.

Six weeks passed without a word from the Slayer. Both Watchers felt her absence keenly. Giles questioned Willow and Xander every day as to whether they had received any communications from his dear girl, but they were as much out of the loop as the two Watchers.

Finally, late one evening when Giles was finishing up a patrol, he spotted a very blond head coming towards him in the dark. “Buffy?” He asked almost tentatively.

“Yeah. It’s me.” She said expressionlessly. “Merrick said you’d be out this way.”

“Oh, you stopped by the house then?” He asked inanely.

“Uh huh.” She fell into step beside him.

“I was worried when you didn’t call me.” He told her.

“Were you?” She said indifferently. “I told Merrick I’d be gone.”

He looked at her, anger beginning to simmer under his urbane surface. “I thought we were friends.”

She looked at him. “No. We aren’t friends. We are Watcher and Slayer and we need to keep our relationship on a business footing. You train me and tell me what needs to be dead, and I kill them. Our relationship ends there.”

He grabbed her arms and shoved her against the brick wall of the cemetery. “You think our relationship ends with training? With a little bit of information sharing? You are so very wrong, Buffy! We are part of each other now. We will never have a business relationship, never. You are my Slayer. Mine. Not Merrick’s and not the bloody Council’s. You belong to me!” He pushed his body up against her, pressing her into the wall.

The surprise on her face was quickly erased by a wave of something else. She pushed him off of her hard enough that he stumbled backwards. “Leave me alone, Giles.”

“That’s just it, Buffy. I can never leave you alone.” He looked at her bitterly. “What has gotten into you?”

“Death.” She yelled at him. “Death has gotten into me. I wouldn’t have died for Merrick, or Xander or Willow. I did it for you.” She sobbed brokenly. “I don’t ever want to feel like that again. I don’t ever want to make a choice between my life and you. If we aren’t friends anymore maybe I won’t have to. Just leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone!”

He gathered her sobbing body into his arms and rocked her gently. “There, there, my dear. It will be all right. You just need time to heal. It will be all right.” He continued to soothe her till she eventually quieted down. “We are a team, Buffy, bound together forever. I can never leave you alone as long as I live.” He smoothed back her beautiful hair and helped her to her feet. Keeping his arm around her still trembling shoulders he walked her back to his home.

Merrick was sitting on the couch when they came in. One look at Buffy’s tear-streaked face and he made room for her and Rupert on the sofa. They sat there, the three of them, Buffy centered between the two warm bodies of her Watchers, their arms holding her close to both of them. She fell asleep wrapped in the safe cocoon of their love. John pushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes and with a nod of his head gestured Rupert to the kitchen. They got up carefully and laid her down, covering her with a warm quilt.

“What happened?” Merrick asked as soon as they entered the room.

Giles explained what had passed between them. He hung his head in shame as he remembered pressing his body against her. He told Merrick about his reaction.

The elder Watcher sighed. “It’s the bond, Rupert. You can’t help it. Buffy tried to break it by her actions this summer. You were simply responding to events. Still, she is too young and you must be patient. If the time were right, she wouldn’t have been able to leave you.”

Rupert looked at the floor. “How can I stand this, John? I don’t trust myself to be alone with her, especially if she tries to deny our bond again. I wanted to take her right against that cemetery wall. I wanted to prove to her that she was mine.” He sobbed in his shame. “I’m not a man who would resort to rape, but I nearly did this evening. God, help me!” The plea was jerked out of him.

“You must be strong, Rupert. If you act on the bond now, you risk a jail sentence should anyone find out. You would be incarcerated for years and in the mean time, she would die. She’s nearly seventeen. In a year and a few months, you can claim her. I’ll be here for you. I won’t let you be alone with her if you really think you can’t control it. You must concentrate, Rupert. Think about what Buffy would do without you. You know what happens to Slayers as they mature. You must be her first lover, Rupert. If you need to take her away before she turns eighteen, I will have the Council arrange it, but it really would be much better if you can simply hold out.”

Rupert rubbed his face tiredly. “I will try. I can no longer promise that things will be all right, however. You must make her see that she can never leave me, John. She mustn’t even threaten to do so again or I can’t be responsible for the consequences.”

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