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“Sorry to beep you guys in the middle of… stuff, but it seemed really weird,” Buffy told Giles and Miss Calendar. She was feeling a little awkward about it after how she behaved (against her free will) towards Giles on Halloween. She practically pushed Giles into having fun with Miss Calendar that morning at school just to get them past the weirdness since Colonial Conquest Buffy tried putting a move on him.
“No, you did the right thing. Absolutely,” Giles emphasized, missing the look Miss Calendar gave him as she stopped walking.
“You hated it that much?” the woman asked with a frown. If Buffy didn’t know any better, she’d say that tone was accusatory.
“No! But, uh, vampires on campus,” Giles floundered a little. “It could have implications --very, very grave…”
Miss Calendar was not deterred. “You could have just said something.”
Uh, oh, Buffy realized. That sounded like a fight. A couple’s fight, and definitely not the kind she should have a front row seat to experience. She looked around the library to avoid making it look like she was eavesdropping, even if it was Miss Calendar who chose right then to address it.
“No!” Giles’ eyes widened. “Honestly, I’ve, I’ve always--I’ve always been interested in, in, uh… monster trucks.”
Buffy’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t possibly stay out of it! “You took him to monster trucks?” She twisted her mouth in distaste. What had that woman been thinking?
“I thought it would be a change,” Miss Calendar admitted.
“It was a change,” Giles sent Buffy a look and she tried smothering her smile as her eyes widened. She really had no business being a part of that conversation.
“Look, we could have just left,” Miss Calendar shifted her weight over to one leg and Buffy recognized the defensive stance.
“W-what, and missed the nitro-burning funny cars?” Giles needled sarcastically. “No, couldn’t have that.”
“Okay…,” Buffy interrupted before those two could keep going. She was suddenly feeling a lot less guilty if that was how their night had been going without Buffy’s help in messing it up. “Can we get back on the vampire tip here?”
***
After the vamp chick ran off, Giles immediately excused himself to go see if he could figure out what book was stolen. That left Buffy with Miss Calendar alone, which was not her favorite place to be, but she figured she could use the awkwardness and at least get an equally awkward conversation out of the way.
“Monster trucks? Really?” Buffy raised both eyebrows at Miss Calendar.
“I figured it would be something different,” the older woman sighed, clearly not excited about justifying herself to a sixteen year old. “I wanted him to have fun for once.”
“Look, I’m all for Giles getting out and having some fun, but monster trucks ? That’s not fun for him, that’s trauma,” Buffy curled her lip in distaste. “Do you want to stop going out?”
“Thank you, Buffy, but I’m more than able to date without a teenager’s advice,” Miss Calendar replied in a way that wasn’t necessarily condescending, but Buffy certainly thought it ironic for someone who took Giles to see monster trucks. I could date Giles better than that! Though... that's not a thought I'm going to think again...
“And I’m not saying you can’t,” Buffy countered, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she headed towards Giles’ office. “But as his Slayer, and not just some teenage girl, maybe try for something less fast and work your way up--you know, walk before you run and all that? Just a thought.”
Buffy didn’t wait for any sarcastic confirmation from Miss Calendar. She never seemed to understand Buffy and Giles’ relationship and Buffy had too much on her mind to bother explaining. Buffy just wanted her Watcher to live little--and for him to let her live a little, too. He had been encouraging her to do just that lately and she appreciated it, even if things weren't looking too hot in the ‘living’ category for her. She wanted him to give that ‘living’ thing a shot, too.
“Figure out the book?” Buffy asked, leaning against Giles’ doorway. He didn’t even flinch and she wondered for a second if he even heard her as he studied a few book stacks and catalog cards.
“No, it might not have even been one that I’ve cataloged yet from the shipments over the summer,” he admitted.
“Well, if you figure it out, let me know,” Buffy asked, pushing off the door frame. “I need to get home.”
“Uh, Buffy,” Giles called out to stop her from leaving. He stopped to adjust his glasses and clean them. “I, uh, I want you to be careful with your friend, Ford. If, if he lied about killing that vampire, it might be more than just a, uh, a teenage boy exaggerating to show off to a girl.”
“I know,” she answered, lips pulling to the side in disappointment. “I haven’t had the best luck in the boy department lately, have I?”
“Yes, well,” Giles began, clearing his throat in discomfort. “I, uh, I do recommend asking Angel about this Drusilla character. He has proved himself forthcoming thus far.”
Buffy nodded and turned to leave before pausing, a smirk tilting her mouth as she turned back towards the office. “Hey, Giles?”
“Uh, yes?” he looked up distractedly from the book before him.
“That whole teenage boy exaggerations to impress girls thing… speaking from experience, huh?”
Giles glared with more exasperation than heat. “Good night, Buffy.”
She grinned. “‘Night, Giles.”
***
Two nights later, Giles stood to the side in the graveyard as Buffy put flowers on Ford’s grave. Afterwards, she backed up to stand closer to her Watcher, glad he came with her for what was to come. All the others were far too suspicious of Ford from the start for Buffy to really rely on their comfort and support that night. But Giles understood what task laid before her. He understood her difficulty in separating the black from the while when she was up to her elbows in gray.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” she admitted.
“You needn’t say anything,” Giles reminded her. He had been doing that a lot lately; reminding her what she didn’t have to do instead of just what she did have to do. It was refreshing when she wanted to not be treated like a kid, but it sucked in situations like this.
“It would be simpler if I could just hate him,” she sighed. “I think he wanted me to. I think it made it easier for him to be the villain of the piece. Really, he was just scared.”
“Yes, I suppose he was.”
“Nothing’s ever simple anymore. I’m constantly trying to work it out. Who to love or hate… who to trust. And it’s just like the more I know, the more confused I get.” She was complaining and all she wanted was for Giles to stop her and tell her she had gotten it all wrong, but he didn’t.
“I believe that’s called growing up,” he answered instead, looking at her sympathetically. She supposed that was better than pity.
“I’d like to stop then, okay?”
“I know the feeling,” he smiled a little ruefully and Buffy tried to imagine how teenage Giles reacted to having to grow up.
“Does it ever get easy?” It wasn’t a question she felt it fair to ask, but she asked all the same. She knew the answer and she knew that she had no business making Giles answer the question. She had vilified him for being the messenger before and she didn’t want him to play that role in her life ever again.
A demon wearing Ford’s skin burst from the ground and it almost sickened her how easy it was to stake him. There was no struggle and no hatred to make the cloud of dust feel satisfactory. There was only silence and the memory of a young boy she used to crush on and the question that she didn’t expect Giles to answer--or even want him to answer.
“You mean life?” her Watcher’s voice rang through the silence, gentle but solid.
“Yeah. Does it get easy?” She turned to him with tears burning her eyes, her lower lashes acting as a hopeless last defense from them ruining what little makeup still remained on her cheeks.
“What do you want me to say?” His brow furrowed as he studied her, as if watching her would tell him what she wanted from him. As if she even had an answer to that question for himself.
Her lashes lost their hopeless battle and a hot tear raced down her cheek. Another tear joined it and together, they ran under her jaw and neck, finally stopping at her clavicle. “Lie to me.”
Giles only watched her for a few more seconds, an understanding lighting his eyes. “Yes, it’s terribly simple,” he began, gesturing for her to join him as he turned to leave. “The good guys are always stalwart and true, the bad guys are easily distinguished by their pointy horns or, uh, black hats. Uh, we always defeat them and save the day, no one ever dies… and everybody lives happily ever after.”
“Liar,” she panned with no real amusement, though plenty of gratitude as she bumped her shoulder with his. She needed to change the subject. “Sorry I, uh, interfered with your date tonight.” Miss Calendar supposedly had gotten her and Giles tickets to some Shakespeare play. Buffy almost smirked. What was that you said about taking a teenager’s dating advice, Miss Calendar?
“That’s quite alright, Buffy. Jenny, uh, she understands.”
Buffy wasn’t quite sure ‘understands’ was the right word for it, but she didn’t push it. “I guess you didn’t completely lie, huh?” She tried to lighten things up while still making sure Giles knew how much she appreciated him. “In terms of the good guys; ‘stalwart and true’ might as well be your middle name, at least when it comes to being my Watcher.”
She must have said something wrong because Giles stopped and turned to her. “Buffy, I will always try to be what you need as a Watcher, but please do not put me on such a pedestal. I will only disappoint you.” Buffy didn’t react, instead enthralled with the earnest way in which he held her gaze, like letting her down was both horribly tragic and painfully inevitable. “I am just a man.”
She knew that. She knew he wasn’t infallible or unflappable or whatever it was that meant he wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t either. In the last almost year, they had both had to learn that they were just people, even if the task before them was far greater than anything ‘just people’ could accomplish. They would make mistakes and they would have to have grace for each other, and forgiveness.
“And I’m just Buffy,” she reminded him, and he seemed to understand exactly what she meant. You’re just you and I’m just me, Giles.
He smiled warmly. “Yes, but I would never underestimate the value of ‘just Buffy’” his thumb brushed her cheek for hardly a moment before he turned to walk again and Buffy’s heart lurched in her chest.
It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with, nothing like the palpitations she got around Angel, blood rushing in her ears; those tended to just lead to the desperate urge to kiss Angel senseless and worry about his vampire-ness later. And it wasn’t like the light and warm flutteries that she felt when Ford first showed up, either.
Giles’ thumb across her cheek made Buffy think of very little if not anything at all. It was like her heart was caught in a whirlpool between her lungs and she just had to sit through it, basking in the vanilla-y scent of old books that wafted in the space between them as everything seemed to quiet down in the peripherals.
With a deep breath to replenish her lungs, Buffy followed him again down the path out of the cemetery, putting that moment out of her mind. “Right back atcha, Watcher-mine.”