Chapter Text
Two figures trudged along, trying to huddle together against the savage, whipping wind. Their blue parkas hid all signs of distinction on their bodies. For an overhead observer, they would be two meaningless blue specks in the vast whiteness of a remote Andean mountain. But these specks were determined. Not even the blizzard threatening to return would make them swerve from their course.
If one cared to look closer, they would notice blue was not the only color set against the blinding white. A small, green orb floated before them, guiding their way through the wilderness. At last, after three days of endless and agonizingly slow miles, it entered the mouth of a cave. The two figures entered the darkness, momentarily blinded by the shift from the sun-drenched snow. There it was. The orb hovered above a black mound lying so very still on the cold, stone floor.
Ripping her dark goggles off and pulling her hood back, Willow dropped to her knees beside the motionless sleeping bag. With a trembling hand, she carefully pulled the cocoon open.
“It’s him!” she shouted to her companion. “We found him!”
Kennedy ran in and slid to her knees above his head. “Just tell me we’re in time,” she whispered.
Willow chewed her chapped lower lip nervously as she pulled her gloves off and gently placed a bare hand against his cheek. “Goddess, he’s ice cold,” she nearly whimpered, her thumb tracing his blue lips and frost-laden eyelashes. Her fingers went to his throat in search of a pulse. “Come on,” she growled, “don’t do this to me.” Frustrated, Willow pushed the curled form onto his back, clawing his sleeping bag and coat open. “You are not allowed to die!” Her slender hand finally made it to the skin of his chest. “I feel it,” she sobbed. “His heart’s still beating.”
Kennedy put a steadying hand on her shoulder. “That’s a relief. I was not looking forward to making a bad phone call to Dawn.”
Willow’s mind began to work frantically. “He’s not safe yet. We have to get to work.”
“Hey, he’s in the hands of the two most powerful chicks on this content.” Kennedy gave her a reassuring nod. “We’ve got him now. There’s no way he’ll be anything but fine.” She was rewarded with a small smile from Willow. “All right, you know how I love it when you order me around...”
The redhead blinked for a moment, then caught her meaning. “Yes, right… Uh, it looks like he tried to get a fire started. I saw some big logs outside. Bring some in here and try to get them ready to burn. Oh, and leave the pack. The first thing we need to do is get his body temp up.”
The slayer stood and dropped her pack, the size of which most normal expeditions would have needed a mule to carry. “That wood’s been covered in snow for months. Are you sure we can get it lit?”
Willow smiled up at her girlfriend. “You do the slayer thing and turn big pieces of wood into little ones, I’ll do the witch thing and make sure they combust.” With a nod, Kennedy trotted back out into the snow. Willow looked down and tenderly ran her fingers through his soft, frosted hair. “We’re here now, Giles. We’re gonna take good care of you.”
+++++
About ten minutes later Kennedy had returned, dragging what looked like half a fallen tree. She was busy kicking the wood into fire size pieces. Willow had finished the work that had been started, building stones and kindling into a safe fire ring. As soon as the slayer brought the first two logs over, she spoke, “Ignis Incende,” and started a blazing fire.
When she was sure they weren’t all going to freeze to death, Willow began to dig through the contents of the pack. She took a pillow and placed it near the fire. Drawing a symbol on it with her finger, she made it grow into a soft bed-mat of a size that could sleep more than one comfortably. After that, she pulled out a double sized sleeping bag and positioned it atop the pillow.
“It’s all right, Giles, I’ve got you,” Willow murmured as she hurriedly returned to him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” She continued to whisper soothing sounds as she began stripping layers off his limp form.
“I think that’ll last us through the night,” Kennedy appeared beside her. “What’s next?”
“Help me strip him.”
The dark-haired slayer cocked an eyebrow. “You know I’m all for that kind of party, Sweetie, but shouldn’t we be more focused on saving his life first?”
“Didn’t you pay any attention at the survival lectures,” Willow sighed. “His extremities are frozen. We need to raise his core temperature, and there’s no way just a fire will do that fast enough.”
“Right… Body heat. Knowing me, you’d think I’d remember that part.” She smiled at Willow’s exasperation with a sideways glance. Kennedy knew her girlfriend well enough to know she had to keep her mind working, keep her in business mode. The emotions would come later.
Willow moved down and managed to tug his boots, socks, and finally his jeans off, while Kenney tackled layers of sweaters and shirts. Soon Giles was left only with his shorts.
“Put him in our sleeping bag,” Willow ordered, knowing they had to move quickly. “Be as gentle as you can. Sudden movements could send his body into shock.” She began removing her own clothes, and was swiftly down to bra and panties.
Her girlfriend held their bed open for her so she could crawl in next to the deathly pale and still form of their friend and mentor. Willow wrapped herself around him as much as she could. She shivered. His flesh was so cold to the touch it made her body ache. But she was not going to let go for anything. Bring on an apocalypse. He was in her caring embrace now and no evil would dare touch him. Willow carefully cradled his head to her breast, hoping the steady rhythms of her breathing and heartbeat would somehow penetrate his unconscious mind and let him know he was no longer alone.
“He’s like a giant ice cube,” Willow muttered, looking up at the slayer.
Kennedy sat on her heels after zipping the pair up tight. “Do you think it would help if I squeezed in there with you?”
The witch tucked the thick fabric out of the way under her chin, completely cocooning Giles. “It probably would, but we have to remember to look after ourselves, too. I think you should fix some dinner. We both need the calories. Oh, and try brewing some tea. Hopefully we’ll be able to get something warm into him.”
Watching Kennedy go efficiently about the work of survival, Willow focused all her energy on holding onto her frozen bundle. “No more adventures for you, Mister,” she murmured to him. “When we get you out of this alive, I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
+++++
Willow tried her best to stifle her giggles as she answered the ringing phone. When she couldn’t, she went with it and answered, “Willow Rosenburg’s house of laughter.”
“Willow? Is that you?”
“Dawn! Hey, Sweetheart, how’re your classes going?”
Willow’s good mood halted when she thought she heard a sob over the phone. “Screw my classes,” the teenager muttered.
“What’s the matter? Tell me what’s wrong, Dawnie.” The head of The South American Division of the New Watcher’s Council transitioned into full business mode. She sat at her desk and grabbed a pen.
“I can’t get a hold of him. He hasn’t called.” Willow could hear the girl’s tears and panic in her voice.
“Try to calm down and tell me who’s in trouble.” A multitude of possibilities pelted the witch’s mind. Could Xander be hurt in Africa? Are Faith and Robin in trouble? Has one of her little friends from school gone missing?
“He promised to call me. It’s been too long. I know something bad happened.”
Willow suddenly wished she could reach across the ocean and hold the girl in her arms. “Please, Dawn, tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know where to start.”
“Giles,” the girl wailed.
A sigh of relief nearly escaped as a laugh. “It’s all right, Dawnie. He was here visiting us only a week ago. He went on an expedition to search for some rare demon in the Andes.”
“I know where he went. But it’s been too long. Listen to me! You know that I’ve been having some fights with Buffy. Well, Giles always lets me talk things through with him, even besides helping me with my studies. When they had that big fight and he decided he need to get away for a while, he swore to me he’d still be there for me. He even took the satellite phone for emergency Council business and promised to check in with me every day.”
“Okay… has he?”
“Yes, even just to tell me he was doing fine.”
“Well, then-”
“Willow, it’s been three days since his last call!”
“It has been stormy over here, Dawn. Do you think he just can’t get through?”
“Something’s wrong! I feel it… in my heart. You’re even closer to him than I am. Reach out. Does your heart tell you Giles is safe?”
Willow took a deep breath and did as the girl asked. She couldn’t deny something was there. A pricking in her gut that said someone she loved was in danger. “All right,” she sighed. “Have you told Buffy?”
“Why would Buffy care?” Dawn growled.
“Now that’s not fair and you know it. She loves Giles as much as any of us.” There was no response. Willow sighed. “Can you remember what Giles said last time he called you?”
“Yeah,” relief that she had found help was clear in the teenager’s voice, “He said in the morning his guide was taking him to the village of the last known sighting.”
A loud clatter made Willow jerk awake.
Kennedy looked up apologetically. “Sorry about that. But dinner’s ready, if that helps.”
“There was a guide!” Willow suddenly gasped. “Giles had a guide with him.”
The slayer nodded slowly. “That also occurred to me when I found two packs while I was checking out the cave. Still, there’s no sign of another man. Any footprints outside have been covered or blown away, and farther back, this cave has tunnels that reach who knows how deep into the mountain. I’ll search again later.”
“Maybe he went for help or something.”
Kennedy frowned at the uncharacteristic lack of hope in Willow’s voice. They both knew that getting caught in an unexpected blizzard while demon hunting was not exactly conducive to survival. Even for those well versed in their world.
The slayer gave her best smile. “Hey, while you were asleep I found the hot packs in the gear. I opened a few and stuck them under the foot of the sleeping bag. He’s so tall, I figured, even with you in there, his feet could use a little help.”
“Thank you,” Willow swallowed the lump in her throat that formed at the younger woman’s thoughtfulness. “When I took his boots off I didn’t notice any damage, but then, my focus was more on keeping him alive.”
Kennedy stood, and wadded Giles’ down coat up behind Willow to help prop her up. She then handed her girlfriend a steaming bowl. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Mmm…” the witch forced a smile. “Freeze dried soup. Gets better every time.”
With a chuckle, the slayer asked, “How about some tea to go with that?”
“Sounds good.” Willow set her bowl on a flat stone behind her and opened the sleeping bag enough the look into Giles’ face. It remained a chapped marbled red, and very still. “I’m such an idiot,” the redhead groaned. “How are you supposed to drink anything when you’re all unconscious?”
“However, you’re probably right that he’s dehydrated. Who knows how long he’s gone up here without any water?” Kennedy smiled encouragingly at the worry that creased Willow’s brow. “That’s why I dug this out of the emergency kit.” She reached into her coat and pulled out a saline pack. “Figured it’d do him more good if I warmed it up a bit first.”
Willow bit her lip. “Technically you’re not supposed to give hypothermia victims fluids, but he looks so bad and his skin is so dry. We have to try. Slow and warm, yes that should help even more than getting him to drink.” She smiled, “Have I told you I love you lately?”
“See, and you thought I was asleep through all those boring lectures.”
Willow chuckled. “We’re lucky you weren’t. I seem to have turned into a mental deficient.”
“Babe, if you’re a mental deficient, the rest of us are single celled organisms. I think you have a pass to be so worried right now.” Kennedy ran her fingers through fiery hair. “I like to think if I were in trouble like this, you’d be losing some of your cool over me, too.” She handed the bag of fluids over. “Here, you find somewhere to stab him, and I’ll set up something to hold the bag up.”
The girls worked to give him the life saving treatment he need, not noticing that Giles’ eyes slowly began to roll under his lids.
+++++
As he walks timidly into the training room, Giles watches for a few moments while Buffy takes out her frustrations on the heavy punching bag. He hides a cringe, seeing ripples flow through the thick material under the impact of her attacks. ‘Most likely envisioning me there,’ the Watcher can’t help thinking. ‘Not that I’d blame her.’
Quietly working his tight throat loose, he says the only thing that will venture passed his lips. “You sure you’re not going to tire yourself out?”
Buffy let’s her arms drop for a moment. “I’m sure.” She isn’t looking back at him and Giles can feel her bristle at his presence. Her obvious discomfort in his proximity stings on his skin. Buffy starts throwing punches again, never sparing him a glance.
His Adam’s apple bobs for a moment, then it seems to him that he’s incapable of stopping the stream of insufferable small talk that comes pouring from his own mouth. “We’re still working on ideas. Time is short but, um, best leave it to the last moment.” He watches Buffy stop throwing punches once again and stretch her arms. She’s annoyed but, for some reason, he can’t stop himself. “If we go in too early and she takes us out, no chance of getting her to miss her window.”
“Then we wait,” Buffy states evenly. She throws one last powerful blow that sends the punching bag off its chain and across the room. Giles feels the force of the impact blast through him and fights the urge to double over.
He swallows hard, taking a tentative step towards her as Buffy’s eyes remain focused on the bag. “I love Dawn,” Giles whispers, his heart pleading for her to believe him.
“I know.” Her voice is soft but, without seeing her eyes, he doubts her words.
“But I’ve sworn to protect this world,” Giles tries to explain. “And sometimes that means saying and doing… what other people can’t. What they shouldn’t have to.”
Buffy finally turns to look at him, but her eyes are hard. He feels her steely gaze as another blow, and the wound in his side begins to ache unbearably. “You try to hurt her, and I’ll stop you.” Her words are steady and controlled, but Giles can read their true meaning in her darkened eyes, ‘I’ll kill you’.
He nods, “I know.” The words leave his mouth in a deep breath that blossoms into a cloud of steam before him. He shivers with the cold.
He watches his slayer slowly walk to the couch and sit. Giles follows, carefully sliding down into the other end. The conversation seems to continue, sadly, but amiably. Talk of past apocalypses and how they’ve always been stopped. However, Giles is distracted, watching, fascinated, as the walls in the familiar room are covered over with growing ice crystals and begin to crackle with the freezing cold. His eyes suddenly focus on Buffy, standing a few feet before him and looking down at him.
“The spirit guide told me that death is my gift,” she says. “Guess that means a slayer really is just a killer after all.”
“I think you’re wrong about that,” Giles forces out, his breath now freezing painfully in his lungs.
Buffy shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. If Dawn dies, I’m done with it. I’m quitting.” She turns and walks out, leaving her unspoken words echoing in his head. ‘I’m done with you’.
Giles wraps his jacket tighter around himself. He’s shivering uncontrollably now in the deathly cold, frozen room. As he glances away from the door, in the farthest corner of the room he thinks he sees a tiny spark, shimmering, fighting against the overwhelming cold, and beckoning him closer. His course clear, Giles rises and follows his slayer.