Title: The Assistant 20/?
Author: Sweetdoggie
Email: (stirling_summer@yahoo.com)
Pairing: B/G
Rating: R
Summary: Merrick didn’t die. A/U
Spoilers: Up to mid-season 3
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.
Notes: Pretty much A/U right from the start. I don’t know how many parts this will be but I’m not going to leave you hanging. The rating is me being ultra-conservative. 99% of all the sex takes place off scene. B/A fans—it never happened
Giles and Wesley went together with Xander to Tuxedo Junction, the formal shop recommended by Joyce for their dress needs. For some reason, Merrick already owned a tux. He smiled as he thought gleefully of the other men undergoing repeated fittings.
They went into the shop and looked around with shudders of distaste. One boy was already wearing a tux and was standing in front of a mirror examining himself. Suddenly, the glass of the shop window shattered and a slavering demon-dog leaped through the hole. It looked around the tiny room and it’s gaze centered on the boy in the formal wear. It leaped upon him and in a flash of gleaming jaws and jagged claws, killed him. Giles and Wesley ran at the beast and pried it off the dying boy. It ignored them and leaped back out the window.
Xander bent over the boy trying to hold his intestines in despite the deep gashes in his body. He looked up as the unlucky young man sighed and died. “He’s gone.” The boy whispered to the Watchers.
The police came and interviewed everyone. Finally, the detective in charge clapped his notebook shut. “Looks like a wild animal attack.” The police left with the ravaged body, not even bothering with the store video camera. The more alert Scoobies confiscated the taped footage of the attack for their own use.
The three white hats looked after the cops in disgust. “Sunnydale certainly has its share of wild animal attacks.” Wesley noted sourly.
“I’ve noticed that.” Giles acknowledged bitterly.
They took Xander home and got him cleaned up before any of the women arrived home. “What was that thing?” He asked Giles.
“It looked like a hell hound.” Giles told him.
By the time the women came in, they had watched the videotape a dozen times. It certainly seemed as if the hound had picked its victim with deliberation. Wesley had been closer to it than the boy, but it had ignored him. They decided that the hound must have been summoned to attack the boy specifically. Cordelia who had come in with Buffy and Faith took one look at the tape and pointed out that the beast had attacked the best-dressed person in the room.
“At least it had good taste.” She quipped.
The others looked at each other. Could it be possible? A Hellhound summoned to attack people in formal wear? What would be the point?
Xander snapped his fingers. “What if it was trained to attack people all dressed up like they will be for the prom?” He speculated.
Everyone groaned. That had to be it. Buffy rested her head in her hands. “I knew it. Me and celebrations of any type are just the most unmixy things! Damnit. I just wanted one thing—one lousy dance. Is that asking too much?” She paced around the room, arms crossed over her chest.
“I can go after the Hell hounds, B.” Faith said hopefully. The idea of a formal gown was intimidating her.
The idea tempted Buffy. It would be OK, she told herself. Faith could take care of things for one night. Then she sighed. It wasn’t right and she knew it. This was her responsibility, not Faith’s and she didn’t dare shirk it. She looked at her sister Slayer. “Thank you Faith. I’ll always remember that you offered, but it’s my graduating class and my problem. I’ll take care of it if you can protect the students.”
Faith looked glum as she saw her opportunity for a good fight slip away to be replaced by the prospect of a dance. “Well, crap. I mean, uh, shoot. OK.” She finally acceded unhappily.
Giles looked like he thought he might be getting a reprieve as well, but Buffy disabused him of the idea. “You go and wait for me there, Rupert. After I’m done with the Slayage, I’ll get my dress and join you.”
He sighed mournfully. “As you say, love.” He and Faith shared a commiserating glance. Faith was being forced to go by Wesley who thought the whole idea sounded like a ‘jolly good time’. She refrained from whacking him in the head, but it was difficult. He was so sentimental sometimes that she was at a loss for what to do. The man continuously showered her with gifts that were very girly. Things she had no use and less tolerance for—a butterfly and hearts pin, a fluffy pink sweater, and worst of all, a pair of teddy bears with magnets in their heads that kissed when you brought them together. Buffy had laughed so hard over this last gift that she had wet her pants on patrol.
Faith had gotten her revenge when Giles had given Buffy a book of love poems. It was a first edition and he had been elated to find it. Buffy had accepted it with a gracious smile and a kiss, but wondered what on earth she would do with it. Finally, she settled on asking him to read it to her, using the excuse of his beautiful accent as an incentive. The younger Slayer had been envious at the quick thinking. She had been forced to wear the hideous sweater and pin several times till she came up with the idea of wearing it to patrol. She swore it must radiate some sort of helplessness vibe because she was attacked at least twice as often when she wore it. That actually worked out in her favor, she explained to Buffy because after wearing it, she definitely felt the need to kill something.
They managed to track the hellhounds to the house of a schoolmate. Apparently the boy had raised the hounds to kill because all the girls he had asked to the prom had turned him down. Buffy found his address just before the dance. She killed the hound he had caged in his basement. “What kind of a sicko loser are you?” She asked him as she tied him up. As a precaution she decided to search the house. To her horror, she found the empty cages of three more beasts.
She ran all the way to the school and was just in time to see the creatures reach the entrance. Picking up a rock she threw it and hit one of the startled monsters in the ribs. It turned around, snarling, searching for the source of this annoyance. She made sure it spotted her and within a split second it had given chase.
The other two demons followed the first and soon they were at her heels. She made a deliberate effort not to outrun them, but they soon grew tired of the chase and headed back to their original goal. They knew they were here to kill humans and they wanted to be about their work.
Buffy leaped on the hindmost creature as it turned away from her. She snapped its neck in a quick movement that took it by surprise. It died without really knowing what had killed it. The other two started back to see what had happened and she leaped out at them, raining blows and kicks on their snouts and backs, wherever she could reach. A second was dispatched with a kick that broke its neck and crushed its windpipe. She felt the cartilage give under the heel of her boot with a little crunching noise.
The third hound dived at her and swept her off her feet. It wasted no time in snapping at her throat. She threw it from her with a leg kick. Before it could right itself, she drove her fist through its chest. The fetid ichor dripped down her arm as she ripped its heart from its chest. “Gah!” She yelped. “Gross.”
Stepping behind the school, she found a hose and cleaned herself up. She pulled her bag from the bushes where she had stashed it earlier and removed her beautiful prom dress and shoes. It took her twenty minutes, but she looked presentable when she had finished. Running a brush through her hair, she redid her makeup and put her bag back in the bushes for later retrieval. With a proud stride, she entered the gym, eyes scanning the crowd.
Giles spotted her immediately and began making his way towards her. “Are you all right?” He asked, scanning her for damage.
She waved him off. “Fine. Remind me never to get a puppy, OK?”
He grinned down at her. “Not liking doggies all that much, are we?”
She looked up at him, eyes limpid pools. “We need to go on a burial detail later. Apparently, Hellhounds don’t self-destruct.”
“Damn.” He said quietly.
“Yeah.” She looked around. “So, you gonna take your girl dancing or what?”
“Mrs. Giles, may I have this dance?” He asked her.
“Mr. Giles, you may.” She said with a grin.
They danced the next three dances without ever leaving each other’s arms. When the fourth dance played, Giles felt a tap on his shoulder. Merrick stood there with a smile on his face. “I believe my Slayer promised me a dance, young man.” He told Rupert happily.
The younger Watcher smiled, nodded and passed Buffy to Merrick. They waltzed slowly around the dance floor. “I’m very proud of you tonight, dear girl.” Merrick said.
“Then my part here is done.” Buffy told him.
“Not so long as I live, Buffy. Not so long as I live.” He cradled her gently against him and she rested her head against his chest. They finished the dance in companionable silence. As it ended, Wesley and Faith approached them.
“Hey, B. Lookin’ good.” Faith told her.
“Not so shabby yourself, girl friend.” Buffy said.
“Wanna trade guys for a while? Wes is getting tired of me walking all over his feet.” Faith explained.
“Well, if you promise to play nice, I could let you borrow John for a while.” Buffy grinned.
Wesley took her by the arm and they began dancing, swaying gently to the soft music. “How are things going with Faith, Wes?” Buffy asked him.
“I don’t know. I think she likes me, but I don’t have any idea of how to please her. I can tell she thinks the gifts I give her are terrible.”
“It’s not that she thinks that, exactly Wes, but you need to look at the girl. She’s not ever going to be the fluffy bunny type. I think she’d like a new knife better than a pink sweater.” She explained.
“I just thought she’d look nice in it.” He excused himself.
“And she does—that isn’t the point. Look, if she bought you, oh, I don’t know, a pair of skin tight leather pants, would you wear them?”
“I, I don’t know. That is something I’ve never considered wearing. I am a Watcher, after all, and I should maintain some decorum. Leather would hardly be in keeping with my calling.”
“Well, that’s the point isn’t it? That isn’t you. Just like pink fuzzy sweaters aren’t our Faith.”
He hung his head. “Then what would she like?”
“I’m betting a leather jacket or maybe a pair of tight black leather pants wouldn’t strike a wrong note. How about a new weapon? Now, I actually like girly stuff, but when Giles gives me a new weapon, I feel all mushy inside. I know he’s thinking that maybe that’s the knife or whatever that’s gonna keep me alive. It’s really sweet.” Buffy explained.
“I see.” The youngest Watcher said thoughtfully. He looked down at the girl in his arms. “I also see why you are such a good Slayer. You see and you care. Thank you, Buffy.”
“I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings.” She said, suddenly diffident.
“Not at all.” He smiled.
“It isn’t that she doesn’t like the stuff you give her. She does, sort of, but only because it came from you.” Buffy looked earnest.
“I get it.” He laughed. “At least, she won’t have to wear the sweater anymore.”
“Actually, we were both thinking of getting a couple more like that.” Buffy confided. “It’s like a vamp magnet. They think we’re all helpless and soft and then wham!”
Students dancing near them wondered why the handsome Brit and that strange Summers girl were practically convulsing with laughter. The looked and shrugged. That bunch was weird anyhow. Who could figure out anything about them?
Faith waltzed by in Merrick’s arms and grinned at them briefly before she went back to counting steps. The older man met Wesley’s eye and when the dance was finished her Watcher reclaimed the younger girl.
In the meantime, Giles had sat out a dance with Joyce who complained that her back and feet weren’t up to another dance right away. “You know, I don’t remember pregnancy being this difficult when I had Buffy. Of course, I’m a tad older now.” She joked.
“I’m sure you don’t look it.” Giles told her smoothly. “Have you discussed any names with John?”
“Oh, we’ve brushed around a couple.” She told him thoughtfully. “If it’s a boy, we both like Anthony. If it’s a girl, we were playing around with Sarah.”
“Both very nice names.” Rupert complimented.
“How did your folks come up with Rupert, if you don’t mind my asking?” She was curious.
“Well, in England, it’s not that unusual a name, but I had an uncle that was called Rupert. The were going to name me Charlotte if I had turned out to be female.”
“Would you still have been Buffy’s Watcher if you’d been a woman?” Joyce wondered.
“It would have been unlikely unless she had been gay. That happens occasionally.” He admitted.
“So, when the Slayer is gay, she gets a female Watcher so they can establish the bond.”
“Generally speaking, no. The Watcher’s Council is simply chauvinistic.” He told her. “If their Watcher is not the preferred sex, things still usually work out. Um, many of the girls are sexually ambiguous anyway. A Slayer may prefer one sex or the other, but generally the bond will form regardless of their preferences.” He looked down at his hands. “It’s not as if I would have been Buffy’s normal choice of a life mate, after all.”
“Hmmm. Maybe not, but she sure lucked out.” Joyce told him.
He looked up, surprised. “What?”
“Rupert, I remember when this was all broken to me. I was horrified. Now, I think Buffy couldn’t have a better husband. You match her and temper her. It’s hard to explain. But I think she got a real deal.” She smiled at her son-in-law and patted his hands.
He blushed and thanked her. Unused to compliments from her, he was ever so glad when the others returned from the dance floor. Buffy came up and sat beside him and he slipped his arm around her. Wesley stood with Faith tucked under his arm and Joyce and Merrick grasped each other’s hands. It was definitely a Kodak moment, Willow told Buffy later.
When it was time for the awards ceremony, they all gathered together at the back of the room to watch. Buffy sighed.
“Disappointed, love?” Giles asked her.
“No.” She told him firmly. “Just sort of nostalgic. Here it is, the last dance of my last year in high school. It’s been a long, hard road.”
“Yes, it has been, but you have been absolutely superb. I have never read an account of a better Slayer in all the years I have studied the lore.” He told her proudly. “You have done so much, with such grace and style, your name will forever be a monument to the Council.”
She smiled at him softly. “Thanks, Rupert. I’m sure that’s a really great thing, but it would have been nice to be something to my graduating class too. I know it’s shallow and meaningless in the long run, but…”
He took her hand and kissed it. “It is neither, love. You are human enough to want a bit of remembrance from the people you have worked so hard to save. It’s human and rather endearing, actually.”
She leaned against him and watched as her peers received awards for various activities. Their stories played out in her mind as they walked into the spotlight. There was Teresa, the beautiful and gifted dancer. Buffy had saved her from a vampire one night after the talent show. Here came Vaughn, a computer programmer whom she had freed from the thrall of a demon computer chip. There was Brad, once a member of the swim team, now a devoted volleyball player. She saw Jonathan mount the stage and wondered what on earth he was doing. He hadn’t been a jock, or fit in with any of the cliques. He was just a nice, normal—by Sunnydale standards—guy. He took the microphone. “Um, I’ve been asked to make the final presentation tonight. It’s kind of special because we’ve never had this category before. This award is for the girl who has single-handedly done more to keep us all alive that all the police, teachers, and assorted authority figures in town. Would Buffy Summers-Giles please come forward?”
Buffy felt her mouth drop open. They were calling her name. In a daze, she wandered through the crowd. Wherever she walked a path opened up in front of her and the smiling faces of her classmates beamed at her. She finally entered the spotlight and stepped next to Jonathan. He took her hand. “This is from the graduating class of 1999, Buffy. It’s from all of us. We didn’t want you to think we never noticed. Thanks to you, we have the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in the history of Sunnydale. Thank you, Buffy, Class Protector.” He held out a gaudily bedecked tiny umbrella.
Buffy reached out and took the toy from him. She had tears in her eyes as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you all.” She told them as they clapped and cheered with tremendous vigor. She made her way back to her husband and friends and was swept into Giles arms for a deep kiss. The band started to play the last song of the evening and he led her to the dance floor to begin. The spotlight focused on them as they danced in each other’s arms.