Summary: Giles's pov about Buffy, and how he wishes
they were closer. (For
those of you who aren't B/G fans, this fic isn't like that. <g> For
those
of you who are, I'm sorry, I tried. lol)
Spoilers: Through Fear, Itself.
Disclaimer: Joss made the characters. I like to think he did it so that I
could mess with them on occasion. And Heather Nova sings the song at the
end. I like to think she sings it to inspire me. <g>
Rating: PG
Feedback: It's what makes my world go 'round.
Thanks to Tracy, for being the beta-er of all beta-ers, and being just as
sweet as can be, and thanks to Laura, for her eternal greatness, and her
help
on finding lyrics. :)
by: Amy
* * * * * *
She still thinks that I don't know about her relationship
with that bastard
of a child, Parker. Hell, maybe she still thinks that I don't know about
what happened with Angel; the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I see
her looking at me, and I wonder if she needs to talk to someone. I'm pretty
sure that the answer is yes.
And I'm even more certain that it won't be me that she talks to. It will
be
Willow, or possibly Xander. Perhaps she'll go to her mother, or call Angel
up, or empty her fears to her real father.
I shouldn't worry about these things, I know. I shouldn't have allowed
myself to get so deeply involved with Buffy that I can't help but feel hurt
when she doesn't come to me. I shouldn't have let myself love her, shouldn't
have let myself think of her as the daughter I wished I could have had,
shouldn't have been the way I was when we first met, the way that most likely
scared her away from ever really trusting me. But I did. The shouldn't's
don't count anymore.
Because they've all been done.
* * * * * *
I think of her, that day, when it was revealed to me how Angel lost his soul.
I think of her glance-- ashamed and yet older, wiser, willing to live up
to
her mistakes-- that told me everything I needed to know, and nothing that
I
wanted to. I wondered how I understood that by her look; I was completely
bewildered by the way Jenny and Buffy had been talking at that moment, still
trying to catch up to the fact that Jenny had been sent to Sunnydale to watch
over Angel.
And then Buffy looked at me.
And I knew.
I was disappointed, yes. But more that she felt she couldn't come to me.
Now, I understand that losing one's virginity is a very private moment,
something that a person is likely to cherish or hate the thought of for the
rest of their lives-- both, I'm sure, for Buffy-- and I know that it wasn't
my place. She hadn't told her mother, then, either. Most likely never would
have.
But it still hurt me.
And, with Parker. That silly boy who was old enough to have sex, but not
yet
mature enough to make love, the boy who used her mercilessly and then stopped
all contact with her because he couldn't see what a treasure he had in Buffy.
I saw her come in the morning after she had been with him. I saw the look
of giddiness on her face, the look that befits one who's been fulfilled from
a night of intimacy.
But it bothers me that I'm her mere Watcher, even after I've lost that
station in my life. Or perhaps a bit more, a sort of father figure. But
don't all fathers want to be friends with their children, and be confided
in?
I suppose it's rare when a child actually does that, though.
* * * * * *
But bottling one's feelings does nothing constructive. I noticed this one
afternoon, when we were training in my apartment. Her heart was obviously
not on the fight, and after I had bested her three times, I finally caught
my
breath and set my quarterstaff on the floor, leaning against it. "Buffy,
is
something wrong?"
She struggled to stand, wincing at a small pain in her back that she had
received when she had toppled onto the ground and hit one of the steps that
led into the living room. She sucked in her breath and looked at me.
"Actually, Giles... I'm not feeling very well. Maybe I should go home and
rest before tonight's patrol or something."
I could feel my mouth tightened, and I worked to smooth the ruffled feathers
that her statement at created. "Perhaps you're not feeling well enough to
patrol at all," I informed her, an edge in my voice.
She spun around from lifting up her backpack. "How can you say that?" she
cried. "You and I both know that there are three vampires that are going
to
rise tonight. And those are only the ones we know about!"
I shrugged, throwing down the quarterstaff in disgust. Maybe she was right,
and I was being too harsh, but her constant pain and equally constant denial
to me was grating on my last nerve. "Your mind is obviously not on the
battle, Buffy, and under those circumstances, you could be killed. Is that
what you want?"
Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
I sighed, looking away, and began taking off my padding. After I had tossed
it onto a nearby chair, I glanced back at her. "I simply mean that you might
benefit from a rest. A long rest. From Slaying. You aren't thinking about
the job you need to perform and though you refuse to tell me what you *are*
thinking about..." I paused, exhaling to calm myself down.
"Though you refuse to tell me what you *are* thinking about," I repeated,
"I
don't need to be told to realize that you could be very seriously injured
if
you aren't focused on the task you need to perform."
Her eyes reflected hurt at me, hurt that I was taking this away from her.
For, as much as Buffy claimed to hate slaying, it was the duty that fate
had
bestowed upon her, and it was something that made her special. Not the only
thing, but it was possible that she didn't realize that.
Her lower lip trembled the smallest bit, and she studied me very closely
for
a moment before taking a few halting steps in my direction. "Are you...
upset with me for something, Giles?"
I refused to meet her gaze, for I knew that if I did, my hurt and sadness
would be revealed the very instant our eyes connected. "Worried," I said
quietly.
She nodded, chewing on the same trembling lip. "May I patrol tonight?" she
asked in a small voice.
I sighed. "I'm not your Watcher anymore, Buffy. You may do as you see fit.
You don't need my approval anymore."
"But I'd like it," she whispered, her eyes still on me.
I lifted my head in a sign of acknowledgment. "Very well, then. If you can
assure me that you'll be careful, you have it."
She hesitated, watching me. I finally ran out of things to look at, things
on which to focus my gaze that wasn't Buffy, and I looked at her. Her eyes
widened the moment I did, just as I knew they would. Her smile shook
slightly, and her eyes became glassy. "You know that if..." she whispered,
trailing off.
I shook my head, scolding myself for being so distant, so hard on her. As
many arguments as I gave myself to make myself realize that she was only
a
child and that I may not be the most logical person for her to go to when
she
needed someone to talk to, I always managed to find a way to refute my own
words and upset someone. Usually me, which is easy to deal with. But now
Buffy, and I was having a very hard time indeed.
I laid a hand on her shoulder. Our eyes locked. "Buffy, I know that this
may seem trite to someone who's just beginning her adult life, coming from
someone so much older, but if you ever..." I swallowed. "If you ever need
someone to talk to or come to-- to talk to about something other than Slaying
or demons-- I wouldn't be angry if you thought of me."
She ran a hand through her hair nervously as my words sank in. Then she
nodded, and smiled, and it was as simple as that.
I felt slightly better for offering, and she seemed much more herself as
she
ordered that we keep training. No other words needed to be said, for she
understood what I had been telling her. If she ever needed me, no matter
what the reason was, I would be there. It was a matter of loyalty and
friendship and love, the kind that came out of working together, side by
side, for years and knowing someone's strengths and weaknesses.
And forgiving them no matter what.
I think that's what I told her with my small offer. Perhaps she saw
something different, but I also wanted to let her know of my forgiveness,
my
unconditional forgiveness. For Jenny, for secrets... For everything.
We continued training, until well after sunset.
* * * * * *
Two nights later, a timid knock brought me to my door. Buffy stood there,
her eyes full of tears that amplified the blue in them, and her forehead
creased in pain. I rushed to her, guiding her inside, forgetting completely
that I should never invite someone in after dark.
She followed me mutely to the sofa, where I sat her down. I licked my lips;
my mouth was suddenly dry. "What happened?"
She let out a long sigh, wiping away a stray tear with her palm. "Nothing,
really... I just wanted to... I just wanted to..." Her voice broke, and she
looked at me.
"You just wanted to what?" I prompted gently.
She sniffled. I handed her a Kleenex, which she took gratefully and wiped
at
her eyes with. "You said that if I needed someone, for anything, that I
could come to you. I didn't want to be alone tonight. I don't want to be
alone... Willow's at Oz's house, and Xander's working... And I wanted to
come
to you."
"No," I said softly. "Of course not. I'm glad you came, Buffy. Is there
something you wanted to talk about?"
"Maybe later," she allowed quietly. She touched my hand, her eyes bright.
"Thank you."
I nodded, my heart swelling. I had never felt as nervous, and strangely,
contented, as I did at that moment. With Buffy sitting beside me, looking
to
me for comfort; something I was at last able to offer. But I didn't know
how
to go about doing that.
I stood. "Would you, ah... Like something to drink? Or eat? I have some
ice cream, I think, somewhere in my--" I broke off as she interrupted me.
"Giles, you can just sit," she said, a small smile coming to her face. "I
don't need anything, except maybe a little company so I won't be alone."
I smiled awkwardly. "I admit that I'm not quite sure as to my purpose right
now."
"Your purpose?"
"Well, how to.. comfort you, how to be with you. Before, before a few days
ago even, I was for all intents and purposes, nothing but your Watcher. Even
after my duties were revoked my the Council, that's what you continued to
see
me as," I explained. "So I'm not certain what I need to do, or what I...
am
now."
She smiled warmly. "Now you're my friend."
She said the words so sweetly and softly that my face reddened. Her eyes
were trusting, her grin heart-warming, and the touch of her hand more
comforting to me than I was sure I was being to her. I lifted her hand and
held it gently for a few moments, sitting back down next to her.
She sniffled again. Leaning her head against my shoulder, she nudged me to
let me know to put my arm around her. I did so, and she shifted closer to
me. I smiled sadly. Perhaps I was bringing her comfort. As she was doing
for me. I felt relaxed and right, holding my little Slayer in my arms,
knowing that she trusted me at last.
For a long time, we were silent as I simply held her. After a while, though,
she lifted her head and smiled, the tracks of her tears drying on her
cheeks.
"Giles," she whispered. I nodded. "Thank you."
"For what, Buffy?" I asked curiously, for I had done nothing more than what
I
had offered to do, and had learned in the process that I had offered for
myself as much as for her.
"For lending me your heart, and your ear," she said, leaning her head back
down against me.
Her last words were whispered before we fell into the silence of the night,
the calming influence of the dark. She was very quiet, but I didn't have
to
strain to hear her; perhaps I would hear her no matter what.
"But especially... for your shoulder."
The End
Wanna cry for you
Would it do any good
If I rain for you
It would just be water
And the nights with you
And the storms in your hand
When you're down, when you're down
When I can't reach you
Powerless dechange
Your word
Powerless to stop
The hurt
I'm trying hard to be your
Tower of strength
I'm trying hard to bring you
Back to joy
Wanna run for you
Would it do any good
If I flew for you
You would still be standing
And it's hard watching
Cause I'm part of you
And it's hard not to
Not to know what I can do
I give you my heart
Give you my shoulder
I give you my heart
Give you my shoulder
Whenever you need them
Over and over
I give you my heart
Powerless dechange
Your word
Powerless to stop
The hurt
I'm trying hard to bring you
Back to joy
I'm trying hard to be your
Tower of strength
I give you my heart
Give you my shoulder
I give you my heart
Give you my shoulder
Whenever you need them
Over and over
I give you my heart
I give you my shoulder