__Lonely Street__
By E. Waldo
Bath, England
Lonely Street, lonely city, lonely man.
The wind howled like a lone wolf, the famous fog hung over the air like a blanket, and
Rupert Giles was thinking so loudly he could wake the dead (a statement not
entirely ironic where he had previously lived), his shoes tapping in rhythm
against the pavement of the street as he made his way home from the pub,
whistling some unintelligible Beatles tune as he walked. A chilly breeze blew
over him and he drew his gray scarf over his neck. Reaching his
gloved hands into his pockets he shivered a bit and kept walking. He
looked over his shoulder when he thought he heard something from behind
him but decided it was just the wind. He kept down the street, kicking
a soda can as he went. He began to stagger as he started to feel
the effects of the night's indulgence. It had indeed been a long day of forgetting.
Oh, and was there ever a lot to forget. He'd forgotten all about Buffy and how he'd failed her
so. Giles was sure that there was something could have done better. It killed him thinking about
all the ways he'd failed. Speaking of failure, there was Willow. Giles couldn't put
into words how worried he was about her. He knew that eventually she'd screw
up and the magic would get the better of her, and once again he'd ride (back)
into town to set her straight and set things right and not get an ounce of
thanks for his trouble. There was a reason he'd liked her especially out of
all the Scoobies. She reminded him of his self at her age, and that was the
troubling thing. The path he'd taken had been a foolish and unwise one, and
he wouldn't anyone, much less someone he cared so deeply for, taking
it. Xander and Anya puzzled him at times, but he knew they'd work
out eventually, hopefully. Even little Dawn worried him. A little
girl with that much grief to deal with was like a ticking time bomb.
At least she had a few people left to help her. Tara seemed to be
doing splendidly considering what she'd gone through, and was still
going through. He liked her very much. And Spike…well, Spike had managed
to develop into a reasonably decent carbon-based non-life form over time.
Yes, he'd forgotten all about all of them…
Nonetheless, none of it mattered any longer. They were on their own now and no longer needed him.
Nobody did…
Suddenly, his thoughts turned surprisingly to Ethan Rayne. He was the only one who really
understood him and who he really was, the real him. None of the children knew him. He wasn't the
stern, dependable, straight-up, straight-laced and thoroughly stuffy
man they knew. He was a ruthless, cunning, vile wild animal and only Ethan
knew it. That was why he liked reminding Rupert of it so much. Sure, Giles
had done some awfully vulgar things during his time in Sunnydale like killing
Ben so coldly, but it paled in comparison to what he was capable of. He
hadn't gotten that nickname of his by chance-Ripper, as in Jack. Imagine if
he'd eaten those enchanted chocolates of Ethan's on a bad day…
All of that was behind him now. Giles wasn't any of that anymore. Just a washed up
Watcher and former sergeant-at-arms of the Scooby Club. He had only memories
now. He was on his own, all alone. And in the end, when he's served his duty
and done his job and has no discernible use left, that's all a Watcher is. Alone.
Lonely Street, lonely city, lonely man.
* * *