BTVS fic: Stay

[craterdweller]

Fandom: BTVS
Title: Stay
Characters: Buffy, Giles
Prompt: Tension/Stress (also stay for another livejournal challenge)
Notes: Takes place the morning after Buffy's eighteenth birthday (season 3 episode helpless)
Rating: G
Word Count: 978

Buffy woke at dawn, which was fairly unusual because of her frequent late nights, but after the craptastical day she had yesterday it was a wonder she had managed any sleep at all.  She scowled and rolled out of bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Her eighteenth birthday should have been all about parties and presents and a trip to the ice show. Instead she and her mother were almost killed by a psychotic vampire in some twisted test by a Council that was supposed to support her. She gingerly touched the cut on her face and winced in pain. Another bonus from yesterday. Her Slayer healing wasn’t working and she felt like she’d been run over by a train. She looked down at her sneakers. She had been planning on going for a run to burn off some excess energy, but she felt like crap. She finished dressing and crept quietly past the master bedroom. Best to let Mom sleep, she’d almost been killed last night too. That last thought refueled Buffy’s anger and she stormed out the front door, just barely remembering to catch it before it slammed.

    She pounded on her Watcher’s door. “Giles!” When he didn’t answer she began to panic. What did that Travers guy say to Giles when he fired him? That if he interfered with the new watcher he’d be dealt with? She’d been too upset to process it last night, but he’d definitely threatened her Watcher. She tried the door and found it unlocked as usual. The living room didn’t look out of place save for the empty scotch bottle and a manilla envelope addressed to Giles. She checked the loft, the bathroom and the back patio, but there was no sign of her Watcher. At least his stuff was still here. So where was Giles? She picked up the manilla envelope and examined the contents. Several surveillance photos of her family and friends spilled out. Shots of Willow studying in her bedroom, of her mother leaving her gallery, of Xander and Cordelia on a date. The envelope was postmarked the day before Giles started giving her the injections that suppressed her powers.  She popped the lock on his desk and removed his journal, his personal one, not the official one that he kept at the library. She read the entries from the last week. Oh, Giles.

    She found him in the first place she looked, sitting at his desk in the library with his head in his hands. “Giles?”

    At the soft voice of his Slayer, Giles spun around,  a move he instantly regretted, as the large quantities of scotch he’d consumed after driving Buffy home last night still waged war with his skull. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Buffy.” He tried to stand but a gentle hand kept him in his seat. His eyes flew open in surprise. He hadn’t expected to see Buffy before Monday. He half expected she’d avoid him. Given Buffy’s temper a good thrashing was not out of the realm of possibilities either. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He deserved that and more. Whatever punishment she’d mete out, he’d gladly take. But this, kindness, was beyond fathoming but then, he’d always thought her remarkable.

    Buffy spied the collection of electronic listening devices on his desk. They were smashed to pieces, but she counted at least a dozen of them. She wondered if these were all from the library. “Are these all of them?”

    “Uh, I think so. I’ll show you how to use the scanner so you can remove any at your house. You should take Willow and Xander with you and scan their places as well, just to be certain.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I, uh, know you don’t want to hear this, now, or perhaps ever, but I am sorry, Buffy. I won’t ask your forgiveness, because I don’t deserve any.”

    “Giles.”

    He ignored her soft interruption and continued, “I was a bit presumptuous last night, if you, uh, want me to leave when your new Watcher arrives …”

    “Giles!” She gripped his shoulder hard. “I looked for you at your apartment before coming here. I know how Travers got to you.”

    “That doesn’t excuse me, Buffy. I should have found a way. I’ve failed you again. You deserve a better Watcher.”

    “I don’t want a better Watcher, Giles. Look, I won’t lie to you and say that I’m not still angry. But at least now I know that you didn’t do this for tradition or because you were just blindly following orders. And you’ve forgiven me for things just as bad, if not worse.”

    “Buffy.”

    “No, Giles. In the balance of things, I’ve hurt you far more than you’ve hurt me.”

    “It’s not a contest, Buffy. I was your Watcher. I wasn’t supposed to hurt you at all. I was supposed to protect you.” His shoulders slumped even further.

    “Are Giles. Are. You are my Watcher.” She knelt down in front of him so she could look into his eyes. “I meant what I said outside the warehouse. I can’t do this without you.”

“Yes, you can Buffy. You proved that last night. You defeated Kralik.”

“Yeah, but I had my Watcher’s help.” She gently touched the bruise on his left cheek.

I want you to stay, Giles, but I understand if you want to go back to England. You could be free of all this.”

He stood up somewhat wobbly and helped Buffy to her feet as well. “I don’t regret being your Watcher, Buffy. It’s my privilege to serve you. And I’ll do whatever it takes to try and earn your trust back.”

“Whatever it takes? Well, you can start with taking me to the ice show. C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”