__House Of Peace__
By Beadtific
“Merry met, both of you, and welcome to the Devon coven.”
Veronica North Harkness was nothing like Buffy expected. She had sort of assumed that the High Priestess would be
a warm, happy, aunt-like Englishwoman -- kind of like an older Willow. Instead, she found that the woman Giles
described as an “old friend and mentor” was more like Cruella De Ville’s non-psychotic and only slightly more
sociable younger sister. Veronica had black, graying hair with a white streak at the right temple, wore black and
white clothing, was tall, willowy – almost bony – and had steel gray eyes. No matter how friendly Veronica’s
words, those eyes made Buffy feel like about as intelligent as a Dalmatian puppy; one who was ripe for being made
into a nice jacket.
Veronica shook Buffy’s hand and suddenly froze. “You’ve handled a weapon recently,” she frowned. “Wood and metal.”
The gray eyes turned to Giles. “You were attacked on the way here?” she asked, incredulous.
Buffy wondered why she hadn’t been asked, since she was after all, a slayer, not to mention the one who held the
weapon. But, if Giles wanted to handle the cow incident, then she’d just have to really thank him later. She
occupied herself by imagining different ways she could do that.
“N-no, Veronica,” Giles gave her a reassuring, if somewhat guilty smile, “There was a misunderstanding.”
Veronica’s eyebrows rose. Giles whipped his glasses off and began to polish them. “Ah, um, rather unexpected, and
quite amusing, really. We’d stopped a moment and…”
“I got spooked by a cow, and nearly shot it with a crossbow.” Buffy said flatly, letting her lover off the hook.
Veronica gave her a disbelieving glance.
“How very… unusual.” she said, with icy smoothness, “are there many vampire cows in California?”
Buffy waited briefly for the earth to open up and swallow her, but that sort of thing never happened when she
really needed it. She grit her teeth and managed a self-depreciating smile, “Funny vantage point; big, scary eye
peering in the car; fog…I just got surprised, that’s all. City girl here; spooked by the locals.”
Giles stifled a snort of laughter at her implied insult and turned it in to a cough. No one paid him any mind.
“I see,” Veronica said with warm, false understanding. “You did not bring the weapon inside our house did you? I’m
sure Rupert would have remembered this is a house of peace.”
“We left it in the boot of the car, Veronica,” Giles said with a breath of impatience. “Do leave off the
headmistress of pain routine and offer us some tea, will you?”
The High Priestess did unbend somewhat, and called a half-dozen coven members in to greet the new arrivals, help
carry luggage and take requests for tea. Buffy’s realized she’d never remember all their names and hoped no one
would mind.
They were nearly overwhelmed with friendly chatter, swept off their feet, and whisked into the warm, cheerful
sitting room to wait for their tea and sandwiches. Alone. With Veronica. Buffy had hoped for a bit of a buffer
before the questions started, time to adjust and listen to Giles and his friend exchange stories, but she was out
of luck. Veronica tucked them into a couch, and began the inquisition. The headmistress had not gone far.
Buffy was grateful that Giles took the brunt of his friend’s crisp questions; reiterating his belief that their
Bond potential had been severed at Buffy’s death, their gradual reconciliation after the fall of Sunnydale, his
belief Buffy’s choice to join him on field assignments had restarted the rudimentary Bonding process, and finally,
Buffy’s claim of him triggering the formation of the Bond. Lastly, Giles made the embarrassing admission that
their commitment dedication involved sex. Lots of sex, and their Bond grew stronger after each session of
lovemaking. He handled it nearly without stuttering, but that was only from shyness, not shame at what they had
done.
\\I really, really am going to have to marry you,// Buffy thought happily, trying to send her feelings gratitude
through the Bond. Giles finger ghosted surreptitiously across the back of her hand, and at that moment, it was as
warming to her as a kiss. She turned her head and smiled at him. Veronica cleared her throat.
Her overly cheerful expression was that of an adult speaking to a small child. “Now dear, I’d like to ask you a
few questions. Please don’t be alarmed. I don’t mean to pry, but I do need find out a few things.” She turned to
Giles, “Rupert, I do know the two of you are close, but some of these things are, well, easier said between women.
Would you mind terribly stopping by the library to see Cecilia? I know she’d love to show you the entries in my
great-grandfather’s journal regarding the Bond.”
Buffy silently prayed that Giles would stay, and did not bother to hide any of her discomfort from the Bond.
“Giles can stay, really Veronica,” Buffy said.
“Call me Miss Harkness, child.”
The hair on the back of Giles’ neck stood up.
“Well, *Miss* Harkness, I’d prefer if Giles stayed,” Buffy said sweetly.
“Certainly dear, if it will make you more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” his lover said, again sweetly. Much too sweetly.
“Quite right, let’s begin, shall we? Rupert is not your first lover, I take it?”
“No.” Veronica raised an expectant eyebrow. “No, m’am.”
“Well, that crosses out virgin consecration as an excuse for the strength of your bond then,” Miss Harkness said
tapping her chin thoughtfully. “How long have you had feelings for Rupert?”
Buffy squelched the desire ask the witch to call him Mr. Giles. “I have been in love with Giles for six months.”
Veronica raised her eyebrows. “And you only just told him.”
“The time was right, *m’am*”
“I see. And you had no knowledge of the Watcher/Slayer Bond.”
“No, m’am.”
“You had no idea your relationship with your watcher was extraordinary.”
“To me, that was just because of Giles, not some mystical mumbo jumbo. M’am.”
“So, you did not consciously initiate it.”
“I couldn’t have, since I did not know about it, Miss Harkness, m’am.” The sweetness in Buffy’s voice had begun to
turn a little acid.
“There is no call for you to be impatient with me, Miss Summers. I am merely trying to get a sense of the facts.”
Buffy did not apologize, and Veronica shot Giles a look that clearly stated his protégé had no manners.
Giles was watching the entire exchange with a sense of shock. He’d never seen his friend treat anyone--even the
most outrageous, foul-mouthed black magick addict, in other words, the Giles of 30 years ago--with such rudeness.
And he knew better than to undermine Buffy by coming to her defense. All he could do is try to project calm, love
and his total support.
“Fact-find away, then, *Miss* Harkness.” Buffy had felt Giles’ support through the Bond, and realized he was just
as confused about their treatment as she was. She decided to relax and see just how far Veronica thought she could
push a slayer or her watcher.
“Tell me Miss Summers, does the Slayer’s Handbook mention anything about the Bond?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never read it, Miss Harkness.”
Veronica made a discreet display of shock. “Surely, you’re joking.” The witch looked between watcher and slayer.
Giles saw his opportunity to verbally come to their defense.
“She was doing a marvelous job without it. Buffy was only identified after she was called, as you well know. And
Merrick, only having a short time in which to prepare her for her duties, saw fit to omit the handbook from her
lessons. When we began to work together, I saw no reason for her to suddenly switch to training methods that would
not give her any noticeable advantage over what she possessed. She is one of the most innovative, talented, and
skillful fighters I have ever met.”
“That’s very kind of you to say, I’m sure, Rupert, dear. Why did you not teach the child more about the lore of
the Slayer?”
“Again, no noticeable advantage. We were living on a hellmouth, Veronica, and it was essential that Buffy’s
fighting skills were paramount. I do believe we’ve proven that it was a wise decision. Whether or not you include
the months of her death, she is one of the longest-lived un-Bonded slayers on record.”
Veronica sat with her mouth in a prim little line. “I find it very hard to believe that Buffy did not know at
least about the legend of the Bond. The handbook does indicate that long contact between well-matched watchers and
slayers will result in heightened powers of communication. Despite the former council’s discouragement of further
Bonding, they at least tell them that.”
“I didn’t have to read anything to know that, Miss Harkness.” Buffy said calmly.
“And did you *read* anything to help you increase the powers of communcation between you? A spell book perhaps?
Buffy and Giles took a moment to share their ire, then calm one another. The sound of grinding teeth was loud in
the room. “What exactly are you suggesting, Miss Harkness?”
“I’m suggesting, Miss Summers, that you somehow learned about the Bond and helped it along.”
As one, they shouted, “WHAT?” Giles stood, whipped off his glasses and began to pace.
Veronica Harkness stayed in her island of icy calm. “I have no other explanation than some sort of augmentation
spell was used to have created so thick a bond between two people in so short a time.”
Giles voice was quiet as he turned back towards them, “I do not care what you think you know, Veronica. I do not
care what your books tell you. You do not know Buffy, and you do not know the healthy respect she has for the
magicks. Perhaps you are confused by the fact that she consorts with those who have, at one time or another
slipped from the path, but, I tell you now, this thing came upon us unawares, and she is innocent.”
Veronica stared at them a moment. “Very touching, Rupert. But, I don’t believe the question was addressed to you.”
Buffy glanced at Giles and saw the bunching of his jaw muscles, and the tension in his shoulders. She had a brief
memory of him plunging sword into the Mayor of Sunnydale, and quickly sent him a surge of pride and calm. He shot
her a tight, sidelong smile.
“Miss Summers, your silence indicates that you have something to hide.”
“Nope, *Miss* Harkness, I don’t have anything to hide. I came here hoping that you might help the two of us
understand more about the Bond, since you’re this is the only place left that has any information on it. So we
have this great thing, but there are some issues, and we’re here to work on it. I’m happy to answer any question
you might have if it will help us make this the gift what it should be. I have no problem with that. I do have a
problem with you treating me like some sort of mystical gold-digger man-catcher person, and Giles like a whipped
idiot.
Veronica gave her first genuine smile of the interview. “You believe the Bond is a gift?”
Buffy and Giles looked at her with identical expressions of incredulity. Buffy said, “Of course. We just need to
learn how to harness it, that’s all.
The smile of the High Priestess got even broader. “Then let’s get to work, shall we?”
Giles felt a wave of red-hot rage surge through the Bond, sighed, plopped back onto the sofa and buried his head
in his hands.
“You played me,” Buffy gritted out between clenched jaws. “Wiccans are supposed to be about love and trust and
harmony and you sat her an manipulated us like, like a spider. ‘House of peace.’ Piece of…”
“She played us both, dearest.” Giles interrupted. He looked at Veronica, his expression mild and calm. Buffy knew
he was anything but that. “I do believe,” he said in his most dangerous voice, “that you owe my fiancée an apology
for the allegations you made against her.”
“Oh, Rupert,” her voice was cheerful and concilicatory, “you both understand that I needed to know whether you
thought of this Bond as a gift or a burden, and that there was no deception involved in the creating of it. We had
to test your resolve in the matter, because, I tell you, this is not going to be easy.”
“Apologize, please, or we will leave here now.”
“I am sorry, Rupert, Miss Summers, if you do not approve of my methods in gauging your strength of purpose.
Forming a bond, whether between man, woman, witch, watcher or slayer is not something to be entered in lightly,
whether it be a mystical, sacred or secular bond. The circumstances surrounding your Bonding sounded
extraordinarily casual to me, but seeing the interaction between the two of you, well, my original thought that
Miss Summers engineered it for her own purposes was wrong. I knew of Rupert’s feelings for you, Miss Summers, but
I know you not at all. I may not understand how it happened, and I may not understand how it is manifesting in the
way that it is, but your Bond is certainly there for anyone with eyes to see.”
Veronica turned in her chair and called to the doorway behind her. “Angela, could you join us please?”
A tall woman, with long auburn hair and a dimpled smile came walking into the room. She nodded at Buffy, who had
gone to sit beside her lover, then at Giles and turned to her priestess. “The Bond is active and about three and a
half inches in diameter. Both Mr. Giles and Miss Summers drew on the Bond for information about each other during
the conversation, and both sent comfort to one another. They don’t have very good control, because I could sense
some of the emotions they were transmitting, but they’re using it as it was intended. Neither is trying to
influence the other.”
Giles head shot up. “Good lord, Veronica.”
“I am sorry, Rupert, but we needed to know.”
“Now you do, and I wish you joy of the knowledge. I’m so sorry to have troubled you, Ronnie,” Giles snapped,
rather peevishly, using a nickname that she hated in childhood. “But I think that I’d rather we learned to teach
ourselves control of the Bond, than have my fiancée treated with such disrespect. Perhaps Cecilia can send us some
copies of the Coatsworth journals in a few days if you can possibly bear to put them in our careless hands.
Buffy began to cross the room towards him when Veronica spoke. Her voice this time, was genuinely kind.
“Please don’t leave quite yet. Angela, tell them what you suspect.”
The tall woman looked at the Bondmates and visibly gulped. “Given the nature of your bond commitment
demonstration, and the abnormally large circumference of the Bond itself, we think that if you continue to have
intimate relations, without learning to control or set protective boundaries around the Bond, is highly
inadvisable. Continued intercourse will cause the Bond to grow to an extent that you will be completely telepathic
and empathic with one another.”
Buffy could feel Giles’ horror but didn’t get it. “So?”
“You could overload your neural pathways.”
“You’re saying we could fry each other’s brains?” Buffy said incredulously.
“Oh dear lord,” Veronica said in irritation. Giles felt the bubble of Buffy’s near-hysterical hilarity waft
through the Bond. He put his arm around her, urging calm.
“Yes, you could.” said Angela firmly.
“I told you it would be difficult.” Veronica tried, and failed, not to sound a little smug. “Now, you must be
tired, both of you. Angela, why don’t you show Buffy to her room? We can get started in the morning.”
Giles kissed her on the forehead and Buffy, still in shock, allowed herself to be led away. \\You better come
visit me,// she thought as she gave him one last look over her shoulder. He looked and felt miserable, but
mustered a little smile.
He stood watching her walk down the hallway, trying to stem the tide of despair that threatened to take him. He
turned to Veronica, wary now of any comfort she would offer.
He wasn’t wrong. “Well, Rupert. At least you didn’t *kill* this one out of ignorance,” she spat, referring to his
late friend Randall. “Yet.”
* * *