Title: Reflecting on Samara
Author: Sweetdoggie (stirling_summer@yahoo.com)
Pairing: B/G -friendship
Rating: FRC
Summary: Buffy and Giles talk about fate.
Spoilers: Episode 1, 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.

Buffy sat on Giles’ couch sipping tea and telling him about her summer away. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but he had made her so comfortable and the tea was making her so drowsy, that talking about her experiences seemed like the path of least resistance.

“…and so, I tried to help her find her boyfriend. We went to all their normal hangouts. I was walking down an alley and I stumbled across this old guy, dead. I was backing up when I saw his arm. It was the half-heart tattoo that girl had. I knew it had to be Ricky. I went back to my place…she was waiting. She didn’t believe me when I told her Ricky was dead. It was pretty awful. I got, well, cruel, I guess. I tried to force her to accept that he was gone, but she couldn’t. She ran out of there, crying.”

“It’s understandable, I suppose,” he said in a relaxed, non-judgmental voice.

“Yeah. Anyhow, I was suspicious. I went back to the blood donation place and broke in. I read Ricky’s file. Seems that the clinic was sending all the healthy kids to this funky ministry that said it was a group home or something. I went there to investigate. Well, you know how I totally suck at undercover? They figured out I wasn’t there for their services right away. I pushed the guy away and went looking for Lily. Just as I found her, she got pulled through this dimensional door that looked like an oil spill. I got into a fight with Ken, the head guy and we fell through the portal too. When we landed, his face got knocked off and his true face was exposed. Not exactly a charmer.”

“You’ll have to look through some pictures of demons so we can identify them, if possible.”

“I guess…”

“What happened then?”

“Oh, I got into a big fight and we helped a bunch of kids escape. We almost got stuck there several times. A big spiky gate came crashing down and I had to lift it enough to let everybody crawl under. I just managed to push myself through when Ken took a dive at me. I dropped the gate on him and it pinned his legs to the stone. Then I asked him if he’d like to see my impression of Gandhi.” She summoned a small grin. “I bashed his head in with a club.”

“Er, Gandhi?”

“Like if he was really having a bad day.”

“Oh. I see.” He did see and wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to break the mood.

“How come this stuff always follows me around, Giles? Nobody knew I was the Slayer. I should have been able to just blend in and lick my wounds, but I got sucked right back in. How come?”

He thought about speaking to her of destiny and fate, but knew she would blow off his words and tried to think of another way to phrase things so that she might understand her life.

“I can tell you a story, if you care to listen.”

“I’m all ears.”

“This is a very ancient story; we don’t really know how old. Once,” he began, “ a servant had been sent to the marketplace in Baghdad to shop for his master. He was jostled in the crowd and turned to find Death staring at him. Death reached for him, but the man leaped backwards and raced home to tell his master what had occurred. He begged for the loan of a horse to ride to the village of Samara where he would hide so Death could not find him. The master gave him the horse, then went himself to the marketplace to investigate. He found Death and asked him why he had accosted his servant. Death replied that he hadn’t accosted him, he had just been surprised to see the man in Baghdad when he had an appointment to pick him up in Samara that night.”

Buffy was silent while she digested the gist of his story. “So, it was his fate to die in Samara, regardless, and he precipitated events himself by going there.”

“In essence, yes.”

“And maybe it’s my fate to find and fight funky stuff, no matter where I go.”

“That does seem to be the case.”

“That would explain a lot, wouldn’t it? Like moving to Sunnydale. Or like the fact that the one high school that would take me just happened to conveniently sit on the Hellmouth. And, maybe like the prophecy about the Master killing me. Like how I wanted to go to that frat party and instead of it just being a bunch of guys trying to get me drunk enough to have sex with them, it was a bunch of snake worshiping evil dudes who wanted to feed me to their mascot. If I hadn’t lied to you and snuck out, more girls would have been killed, maybe for years and years. Like maybe it was a destiny thing to make all that stuff happen.”

“Maybe so.”

“I’m still sorry I ran away.”

“I know, dear. None knows more than I how hard this life is to bear, but I want you to know that I am here for you, always.”

“I appreciate that now, Giles. Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure.”

She opened her eyes wide. “You are a very good man, Rupert Giles, and I’m lucky to have you in my life. I may not be very swift on the uptake sometimes, but I know that much. We’re a team, you and I. Don’t let me forget that again, OK?”

“OK, Buffy.” He smiled and tucked an old quilt around her shoulders. “Why don’t you have a bit of a rest? We can talk more tomorrow.”

She smiled and lay back against the cushions of his couch. Her last thought before drifting of into sleep was that she was very grateful to be home and to be back with this man, no matter what her destiny.

The End