Standard Disclaimer: I don't own anything. No profit motive. Et cetera et cetera et cetera
Setting: This takes place on the day after becoming. Not really a story - more a vignette.
Spoilers: If you haven't finished out Season 2 yet, don't read this (becoming 1&2)
Rating: PG - there really isn't much here, but mickey mouse might be offended.
Rupert Giles hesitantly sat in his chair. Muscles that he didn't even know he had ached today. But the throbbing in his body was nothing compared to the agony of his mind. He kept remembering the scene. The room was mostly empty. The evidence of the apocalyptic events of the evening before were few.
There was, of course, a large amount of scattered ash - Giles remembered witnessing Buffy make short work of Angelus's minions. A statue - *the* statue - stood at the front of the room, a sword at its base.
But not Kendra's sword. This one was tarnished with lack of use, except for the point of it, which, until very recently, had been encased in stone.
He had succeeded; Angelus had awakened Acathla. Yet, as Oz had so succinctly stated, the world had not ended.
Still, she remained missing.
Giles sipped at his Bovril worriedly.
It wasn't like her. She would have checked in - if only to check on the rest of the group. Despite her lack of enthusiasm for her calling, Buffy took her responsibilities seriously. She would at least assure herself that Willow was doing well.
Although the curse/cure performed by Willow to restore Angel most likely worked, there was no sign of him, either.
Just a statue and a sword.
Giles sat back in his chair. He had, over recent years, schooled himself with discipline his younger self would never have recognized. He had almost infinite patience. But that was being frayed at the edges with worry. He had not heard from the Watchers' council, yet he knew there were motions to activate a new slayer. They believed her to be dead, or at least no longer in this realm.
Giles remembered with sadness the feeling that had come over him when Jenny had died. He had loved Jenny - a part of him still did. He knew when she died. He had looked up into the night as a cold shadow passed over his soul. At the time he dismissed it, but when he found her, he knew what it was. Her soul saying goodbye to his.
Nothing like that had happened last night. Giles reasoned that Buffy's soul must still be intact with her - wherever that might be. Giles picked up his inter-office mail and began to sort through it, hoping that the normal task would do something to restore his nerves.
A note from the perpetually ignorant Principle Snyder announced (with the glee *almost* concealed) that, with criminal charges being held against her, Buffy Summers had been expelled from Sunnydale High. Giles threw it down in disgust. After questioning all of the witnesses thoroughly and separately, the police had been forced to drop the murder charges against her. But there were two assault charges still valid, both concerning officers in the Sunnydale force. Rest assured, Giles wasn't the only person looking for Buffy Summers. Giles picked up the phone once again and rang the Summers household. Again, there was no answer. He sighed and picked up his cup again.
He was about to enter the final pieces of his account into his journal when the doors to the library slammed open. Joyce Summers burst in.
She looked around the room frantically, wildness in her eyes. She spotted Giles in his office and stalked toward him. As she approached, he noticed the evidence of tears on her face. He stood to meet her.
"What have you done to my daughter?" She spoke in a low, painful voice.
"Mrs. Summers. I - ah - good morning. Um, well, not so good, actually." He winced, as he had pulled yet another sore muscle in the process of standing so quickly. This lapse brought to Joyce's attention the physical details of the man in front of her.
"My God. She really did need to save you last night!"
Giles looked up, confused, fear dawning in his eyes. He had assumed Joyce had been contacted about the attack in the library the previous evening, and had held himself, the only adult present, responsible. But this phrase indicated much more.
"Wh-what do you m-mean by that, Mrs. Summers?"
"She told that blond man that if he let you get killed, she'd kill some other woman. I didn't think ... I thought ..." she sat down, unseeing, on the couch in his office. Giles pulled up a chair next to her.
"Mrs. Summers, Joyce, if I may. Will you allow me to get you a cup of tea as we discuss this?" The blond man could only be one person. From what Joyce was saying, she had witnessed something important last evening. Giles needed that information. But right now, Joyce was too agitated to make much sense. Giles walked to the microwave and fixed a cup of hot water. By the time he returned to the couch, Joyce had once again gotten control of herself. He handed her the cup and leaned against the edge of his desk, waiting for her to begin.
"Thank you, Mr. Giles." She looked up with sad eyes.
"Please, call me Rupert. Now then, d-do you think you could start at the beginning? I'll try to fill you in with what I can in the end. But I need what ever information you have. It's very important ..."
Joyce interrupted. "Is this about the vampire Slayer thing?"
Giles looked startled. Something important had happened, indeed. "Please, Joyce ..."
"All right. Last night, I was out searching for Buffy when I found her, arguing with this man - she called him Spike." Giles tried to control his surprise. Spike hadn't been seen much since the fire, and it was rumored that he was still incapacitated. Giles himself had seen Spike in a wheelchair. Yet he had vague memories of the last fight, when Spike was fighting Druscilla. He had discarded those as fever-induced wishful thinking. But perhaps ...
"Anyway, she and Spike were trying to explain about this band they were in together when we were attacked. Spike punched the man and Buffy stabbed him - the attacker - with a stick. The man ... exploded, for lack of a better word ... into ash. It was then that Buffy told me she was a Vampire Slayer."
Joyce looked up at Giles then, expecting to see the librarian regarding her with caution and fear. She expected that she sounded insane. But what she saw unnerved her even more. Giles was looking at her with a mixture of sadness, pity, and ... understanding.
"Yes, Joyce. Ah-I see that you have questions. But please, finish your story. Please?" He reached out and squeezed her hand as a tear fell down her cheek.
"Oh-ok. Well, Buffy got a call from the hospital - Willow called her. I had a little time to talk to Spike. I asked if I had met him, and he reminded me of the parent-teacher conference night. I ..." she stopped to swallow, tears rising in her throat. Buffy had been so brave that night. Now that she was allowing herself to remember ... "They weren't gang members on PCP's, were they?"
Giles stammered his answer. "N-no. They were vampires."
Joyce suddenly stood and began to pace. "I didn't believe her, you know. She tried to explain it to me. How I had been overlooking the evidence for so long ..." She paused and looked at Giles. "Did she even have a choice? This 'Slayer' thing - did she ask to be it?"
"No. No, she never wanted to be the Slayer. But once she was convinced that it was her responsibility, she held nothing back. She's the best Slayer we've had in generations. Lord knows she's needed to be. I've lost count of the number of times she's saved us all. "
Joyce looked at him in confusion. "Including last night?"
Giles looked up sharply. "What more do you know about last night? Do you know exactly what happened?"
Joyce shook her head. "I listened to the discussion with Spike. They were both pretty convinced that she would have to kill Angel. Angel - as in her old boyfriend? Is he a vampire, too?"
"Y-yes. He is. It's complicated ..."
"More complicated? Dear Lord ..." Joyce inhaled. "Anyway, Buffy and I had a falling out when she wanted to leave. I told her that if she left the house, she wasn't to come back." Joyce started to cry in earnest now, and Giles seated himself next to her.
"Please, Joyce. Buffy understands. The hardest part of all this for her was lying to you. She knew how much it was hurting you, but she knew if you found out ... if you knew the truth ... you'd be in even bigger danger than ever. The chances are, once you found out the truth, she would have left, anyway, to protect you. You have to believe that. You didn't drive her away."
Joyce stopped crying for a moment and looked up at Giles. "Yes, she said the same thing. In her note. She said ..."
"Note?" Giles interrupted.
"Yes. This morning, I heard her in the house. I went into her room to find much of her clothing and some of her private things gone. On her bed was this note." She rummaged through her purse, not seeing the look of joy on the Watcher's face. Buffy was alive and somewhere here. She handed him the note.
"Mom,
Please try not to be too mad at me. My lifestyle hasn't been my choice. I know that's probably too much for you to handle right now, but just remember, I did it all to protect you and everybody else.
I'm going to go away for a while. Maybe walk the earth, like Kane in Kung Fu. Know that I'm okay, and that it's best for your safety if I'm away.
Love you always
Buffy
p.s. everything worked out last night, but do me a favor, ask Giles to "revoke the invitation" for Spike. He'll know what that means."
Giles looked up from this letter with concern and relief mingled in his eyes. This "walk the earth" had him a bit concerned. But the good thing was, she was alive. He looked at Joyce, who had a lot of questions. He could see that. And he would answer them to the best of his ability. Buffy was alive.