Title: Gifts
Author: Sweetdoggie (stirling_summer@yahoo.com)
Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Rating: FRAO
Summary: After everything, Buffy still wasn't quite right.
Spoilers: None
Note: Some angst here. Abortion considered.
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.
They were all dead; her first lover, her last lover, Wes, Cordelia, Fred, Gunn…dead. Sure, they had killed a bunch of evil things but it didn’t change the bottom line…people she knew and cared about had died. When Andrew had broken the news to her, she had wanted to curl up into a defensive ball and simply rock her pain away, but she knew that she wouldn’t be allowed to do that. Soon one of the others would come in and ‘comfort’ her and she would cry and then pretend to feel better for their sake.
But, it would be pretense, as everything had been since they had pulled her from her grave nearly three years ago. She had grown adept at concealing her pain. Hiding it didn’t make it hurt any less, but it stopped it from hurting more. When she finally figured out that she could keep Giles with her if she pretended to be well and happy, it became easier to wear the façade of good mental health.
Dawn was the first one to come into the room where Buffy sat. She joined her on the couch and took the Slayer’s hands in hers.
“I’m so sorry, Buffy.”
“I know.”
“Do you, do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not yet at any rate.”
Dawn nodded. “I just want you to know that when you’re ready, I’m here for you.”
Buffy nodded. “Thanks. Would you mind leaving me alone now? I…I just need to be alone for a while.”
Dawn got up, ran her hand over her sister’s hair, and then left the room silently.
Giles was next. He knocked softly and then stuck his head in the door. Buffy hadn’t moved.
“Will you talk about it with me?”
“Later, Giles, please.”
He nodded. “They are at peace now. All of them, even the vampires.”
“I know.”
“Let it comfort you, Buffy. They died heroes.”
“But they still died.”
“All living things die. Even all undead things, eventually.”
She nodded. “I just need some down time, Giles.”
“Would you care to go on a short vacation? We could go to Scotland and see castles. I know you’ve been wanting to do that.”
“I need to grieve first.”
“As you wish.” He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “I am here for you, dear, always.”
She nodded her thanks silently, watching him leave and knowing his words were false. Oh, he believed them, but he had left her before and she could never completely trust that he wouldn’t do it again, especially if she grieved like she wanted to. Buffy would have gone to a Council psychologist, but they ultimately reported to Giles and she couldn’t bear for him to know how she felt.
She made her way to her bedroom and lay down on the tightly made bed looking at the ceiling. Angel was dead. Spike was dead. Wes was dead. Cordelia was dead. Fred and Gunn were dead. She was suddenly very glad that Willow and Xander were out of the country for another couple of weeks. She wouldn’t have to deal with their emotional baggage as well as her own. Xander, she reflected, would probably be very happy that the vampires were gone. He would be sad about Cordelia and Wes, and hadn’t really had much contact with Fred and Gunn.
Willow would grieve for them all, but would have something philosophical to say about ashes to ashes and how the wheel would turn around for these absent friends once again. Ever since she had become “Good” Willow as opposed to Veiny Willow, she had been a pill to live with. Everything was flowers and harmony and the music of the spheres. Buffy reflected that it was probably better than having her rip the skin off somebody, but some days she wasn’t entirely sure about it.
Realistically, she had known that there was no future with Angel—and, in these last years, she hadn’t really even wanted one and she had never felt like her time with Spike was anything but an interlude. But they had been there. She could have picked up the phone and called them and they would have come to her with no questions asked. Either or both of them would have held her. They understood what it was like to die and to come back. Now they were dead and there was nobody who understood.
She would have liked to cry, but her tear ducts were dry. There had been so much death and loss in her life that this massive helping seemed almost more ironic than sad. It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Giles had told her to be glad that they died heroes and she was glad for that, but it didn’t help the pain one single jot.
She had been celibate since her affair with Spike more than two years earlier knowing that no matter how lonely she was, it was better than leaving herself open to having another man profess to love her then leave her in the most hurtful way he could find. Over the years, she had learned…from her father’s studied indifference, to Angelus' cruelties and Angel's abandonment, to Parker’s scoring, to Riley’s whoring, to Giles first poisoning her young body and then leaving her on her own after her resurrection; to Spike’s attempted rape and his flaming, heroic death in the Hellmouth, they were all gone from her in one way or another. Buffy had often wondered if their diversity was somehow planned. Had each one been programmed to seek out another fragment of her soul for destruction? If so, they had been remarkably successful.
Buffy had loved them, one and all…in different ways, it was true, but the love had been there. She knew instinctively that should she wish another lover, she could have Giles. The looks he gave her, the soft touches on the shoulder, the late night chats over tea—he was waiting for her to give him a green light, and she supposed that she would do it, eventually. The heart wanted what it wanted, after all, and she had already experienced so much pain that when he left her again, she doubted that a new way could be found to hurt her.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, because she did. She had realized that she was in love with him and had been for a long time when he had rescued her from insane Willow. Buffy, however, was no longer sixteen and didn’t, couldn’t trust love again. Since the destruction of Sunnydale, she had kept her distance from him, at first by travel and then simply by ignoring his closeness. She knew that period was coming to an end. She could let him comfort her for the deaths of her friends and lovers and that would be enough of an opening.
When she didn’t come down for lunch or supper, Giles went to her. He knocked softly at her door. She didn’t answer him but he opened it slightly and looked in on her.
“Are you all right, Buffy?”
“I suppose I am.”
“Are you ready to talk about it?”
“No, but…”
“Yes?”
“Do you think you could just hold me for a while, Giles?”
He came to her then and after kicking off his shoes laid himself down upon her bed. Rolling so that he faced her, he pulled her gently against his large frame and held her. She was suddenly wracked by dry sobs that tore at his heart and he gathered her even closer to him. Gradually her crying subsided and he knew that she was asleep. He didn’t stop holding her and soon the rhythm of her soft breath on his chest lulled him into slumber as well.
They awoke nearly simultaneously the next morning. Buffy opened her eyes and reveled in the comfort of sleeping next to a warm, male body. Giles still held her and it felt wonderful. She distrusted the feeling automatically. Comfort and love lead to pain. It was as inevitable as night following day. Her choice now was whether or not to simply embrace the pain that she knew was coming or to fight her feelings for this wonderful man and suffer anyway.
She leaned into him. “I love you, Giles.”
He started in surprise. “Why, I love you too, Buffy.”
“You make me strong.”
“No, love. You’re strong on your own.”
Resting her brow against his chest she shook her head. “No. Without you I’m stupid, weak, and only half a person. When I’m with you, I feel whole.”
He was silent for a long moment. “You do me great honor, dear.”
“It’s the simple truth. You complete me. I’ve known for a long time.”
He dropped a tender kiss on her forehead but said nothing.