“Buffy,” Giles said, shock evident in his voice, looking up and down the length of her as she stood waiting for him in the airport. “You look . . . ”
“I know.” Buffy smiled indulgently. “Life is sometimes good . . . even for me. I guess . . . that was just a hard thing to realize back in Sunnydale.”
“Has it really been that long?”
“Almost four months since I’ve laid eyes on you . . . yeah, it really has.” She continued, quietly distant, “A little more than seven since Sunnydale.” She finally looked directly at him, “How was your flight?”
“An absolute nightmare,” responded Giles wearily. “I was treated to what felt like an almost two hour dissertation deconstructing the humor of Monty Python followed by the incessant sounds of a marathon of Pac-Man. Nobody deserves this.”
Buffy giggled playfully. “Right,” she said unconvincingly, trying to hide her smile. “Nobody should be subjected to that.”
Giles removed his glasses. He took a soft cloth from his pocket and began to clean them. He looked at her with sad eyes. “You still haven’t forgiven me, have you!?”
Buffy hedged slightly for a moment. “Giles . . . I’m not sure it’s something I can so easily forgive,” she said seriously. She lowered her eyes and bit at her bottom lip. She looked at him almost nakedly. “I can promise to at least try. I suppose you deserve that much.” Buffy smirked, “So what do you say, no more torture . . . we’ll call it a draw.”
“That’s . . .” Giles stopped and shot her a sudden accusation. “Hey!”
She smiled slyly, “I was wondering if I’d be able to get that one by you.”
He smiled thinly at her and shook his head, “I suppose it’s something that you’re still willing to poke fun at me.”
“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” She looked at her Watcher kindly. “You know that right?”
“Yeah. I know that,” Giles said quietly emotional. “For what it’s worth I am sorry. There has barely been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about how sorry I am.”
“I understand. I suppose it’s better than walking around and hitting yourself across the head with a board. So where’s Andrew?”
“He’s still back at security.” Giles looked back over his shoulder. “Arguing over the ridiculous number of DVDs he decided to bring. I’d hope that they’d decide to keep him but I doubt my luck would hold up very long.”
“Holy . . . Buffy!” Struggling awkwardly to hold on to both his laptop and his carry-on bag Andrew looked at her across the airport lounge with wide eyes. “You look . . . I mean wow!”
Giles rolled his eyes, “Not even a while.”
Buffy smiled a little shyly, “Thank you, Andrew.”
The small blue sports car darted through and around traffic.
Buffy right hand deftly shifted from one gear to the next. Her silky blond hair flowed freely behind her in the wind blowing through the small, open-topped convertible.
In the passenger seat on the small sports car Andrew was perched outrageously and awkwardly atop Giles lap.
Giles, “Stop wiggling”
Andrew was slightly contrite as he tried to settle down, “Sorry. Sometimes I just get antsy and excited and have trouble staying still.”
The Englishman turned and frowned at Buffy. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
“Sorry,” said Buffy, not bothering to hide her grin as she concentrated on driving. A loud horn sounded and faded off behind them as the car flew through an intersection. “I told you you’d probably be better off if you got a rental. My baby’s only got two seats.”
“A fact I’ll be sure to take into profound consideration next time,” Giles said dryly. “Not exactly the most . . . practical . . . choice you could have made.”
“I like it,” Andrew said defensively.
“You would,” Giles snapped. “For now, I guess, I’ll just have to deal.” He was trying obviously not to move.
A perplexed expression suddenly washed across Andrew’s face. He looked back at the older man slowly, “Um . . . Mr. Giles, are you . . .”
“Finish that sentence Andrew and you’ll be walking home.”
Giles gave Buffy a sharp betrayed look when she suddenly laughed out loud.
The small, blue sports car sat quietly in a garage. The engine made faint occasional ticking noises as it cooled. A motorcycle was leaning on it’s kick stand off to one side.
The garage door was open.
A few leaves floated aimlessly around inside in a faint breeze.
The interior was clean, uncluttered. Just a few rakes and shovels and similar things hanging on the back wall and a few boxes tucked away in the corner.
The faint distant sound voices from further inside the house.
“This is it,” Buffy said. “This is home.”
“Nice,” Giles said looking around the wide open living room. “Remarkably nice actually. You’ve acquitted yourself quite well.”
“Thank you.”
Giles looked at the small girl with a slight question, “If you don’t mind me asking where’s Dawn? Frankly I expected to see her here.”
“Out with her friends,” Buffy responded, shrugging off her coat. “Making the mistakes she has to make in order to learn what it is to grow up. She’ll be back sometime later. Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee? Coke?”
Andrew looked at her pleadingly, “Bathroom?”
Buffy pointed a quiet direction, “That way.”
Andrew quickly ran off.
“I have to wonder, though,” Giles said slowly. “You could be off seeing the world like the rest of your friends. Action, adventure, a different place every week, a chance to do things many people your age would absolutely love to have the opportunity for . . . yet, you chose to settle down, here, in Rome.”
Buffy, softly, “I like the quiet.”
Giles smiled at her faintly, “You deserve it. Truly.”
“Thank you.”
Andrew filled his hands with liquid soap and put his hands beneath the faucet. He shut the water off and dried his hands with a towel hanging on a ring to the left of the sink.
Lingering, he picked up a small bottle of perfume that sat on the back of the sink. He sprayed it in a faint mist that hung in the air right in front of his face. He absently took a breath and then suddenly rubbed at his nose roughly.
He crinkled his nose as if that would help, “Wow!”
Putting it back he examined the other bottles lined up behind the sink for a few seconds.
There was a laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom. He picked up a lace bra and held it up to his chest experimentally, posing and watching himself in the mirror for a few moments before putting it back where he found it and wandering back out into the hall, stopping to look at the pictures hanging along the way.
There wasn’t the sheer number of pictures that used to hang in Buffy and Dawn’s old house, but there was a welcome friendliness here. The faces in the pictures smiled back at him kindly.
Andrew sighed, “I miss Sunnydale.”
Sitting at her kitchen table, Buffy stared distractedly down at the cup of coffee in her hands, at the faint hint of lighter colored swirls still turning slowly in the cup from when she added and mixed in the cream.
“So . . . you’ve clearly been able to make a life for yourself here,” Giles said. “I mean, beyond demons and Slayers and all that.”
Buffy smiled. “Yeah, surprisingly enough. Not that there aren’t things in my life that I wish I could change. Not that I . . . don’t miss certain things. I suppose everybody has that. But, for the most part . . . I’m happy.”
“Then let’s try to do our best to keep it that way.”
She smiled awkwardly at her Watcher in a strange comradery. A few moments later Buffy furrowed her brow slightly. “Was there . . . something else you wanted to talk to me about?”
“No,” the Watcher said slowly, giving her a paternal smile. “Not right this moment.”
Author's note: I know many of you probably hate me at the moment. To quote Spike "I hate being obvious". You know I'm just teasing you. I promise, we'll get Spuffy soon. It won't be as long as you might think.
On another note the WB just anounced that they are cancelling Angel after this season is done. If you could please go to http://www.petitiononline.com/ai5d0162/petition.html and sign the petition to keep it on the air. If we're lucky maybe UPN will pick it up like they did with Buffy.