__The Guardian__
By Exfilia
The classroom door opened, and children of
eleven or twelve poured in. Willow was
almost stunned. They scrambled into seats,
two or three to a PC monitor, ignoring the
two forlorn Macintoshes. Their teacher
followed them and clapped her hands, and
silence fell. Remember that, Willow told
herself. Clap the hands.
"Okay, this is Miss Rosenberg. She's the
new computer specialist, and she's going to
tell us about...." The woman turned to
Willow.
"About searching on the Internet," Willow
finished for her. There, the words were out.
She'd started. The rest would be easy, just
like in high school after Ms. Calendar had
been killed. The only difference was that
she didn't know these kids and they were
younger than she was and they were going to
call her Ms. Rosenberg... and Willow was not
going to panic. "Who knows how to do that?"
"I do I do," came the screams, and "Hey, see
what you can find about the ghosts!"
The teacher clapped her hands again. "We are
not going to have anymore nonsense about
ghosts," she announced. "What does it say in
the Bible about the dead?"
"The dead know not anything," the class
muttered as one.
"I've got some ideas, here," Willow said,
handing out assignment sheets. "Why don't
you see how much material you can come up
with for each one."
"I'm sorry about that," said the teacher.
"They're very strict here about what the
children are exposed to. I'll be glad when
the public high school opens back up. I'm
Dolores Moore, by the way. Call me Dolly."
"Willow. What got them started about
the ghosts?"
"Some of them get to school very early, and
they said they saw lights on the old pond in
back."
"Fishermen?"
"Willow, you could wade that pond. I think
it's just a practical joke on gullible
children."
"Tell her about the crying," said a boy in
the front row.
"What crying?" said Willow.
"Not in class," Dolly told the boy. "We
could seriously lose our jobs," she said to
Willow.
It was not a job Willow wanted to lose. The
school was three old frame houses on the edge
of Sunnydale that smelled of new paint and
schoolbooks and good things cooking in the
cafeteria next to the computer lab.
Of course, Willow only came in after lunch.
There was one class each for preschool and
kindergarten and grades one through eight,
and each class came to the lab for two hours
a week. The minister of the church who ran
the place had been glad to find a college
student with teaching experience in the field
who was living decently with another woman.
He'd said it was okay that she was Jewish.
Nice of him. Willow didn't tell him she was
Wiccan, and she certainly didn't elaborate on
her relationship with Tara.
And just as she'd thought everything was
going to turn out perfectly, there were
ghosts, and Willow had been Buffy Summers's
best friend for too long to casually discount
reports of occult activity anywhere near the
Hellmouth. When she finished for the day,
she headed straight for the Magic Box.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Xander was at Giles's when Willow told the
story, scribing glass with a terrible noise
and then snapping it along the line, and
fitting the pieces into the new jewelry
display case.
"That looks really good," Willow said.
"He is good," Giles told her. "He's going to
put stained glass in my bathroom window."
"It'll look better than frosted," said Xander,
"and if I use scraps it won't cost much more.
It's what they did at Willow's school."
"My school?"
"The one where you work."
"You worked on the renovation?" asked Giles.
"Were there rumors of ghostly activity?"
"We couldn't keep laborers," Xander said.
"Of course, it was a hundred and twelve in
the shade and we were hurrying to get it
done before school started, so the boss
figured the ghost thing was the guys just not
wanting to work. They said the same thing,
though. Lights, and the sound of children
crying. Also the dead girl."
"Dead girl?" said Willow and Giles
simultaneously.
"Yeah, they developed that bit back in the
seventies and sold the houses to doctors and
lawyers and such. There were tennis courts
and a swimming pool that we had to redo for
the school, and a stable that we just tore
down. Nice place. Anyway, somebody's
daughter was abducted, and after that the
crying started. Now no one will live out
there. The bank lost a pot of money on it.
Those houses were empty until the church
bought them last year."
"A church that doesn't believe in ghosts,"
Willow said.
"I think," said Giles, "that you and I had
better look into this."
"Should we call Buffy?" Willow asked.
"I don't think so. She and Riley have got
quite busy in the graveyard lately. I don't
think we should disturb them."
"Yeah," said Xander, "I wouldn't want to
interrupt them, either."
"Willow and I can handle this," Giles said,
and slid a crossbow from under the counter.
"We'll take insurance, though, just in case
we run into any vampires."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Giles parked his convertible beside the road
near the pond early the next morning, and he
and Willow climbed the fence around the
school grounds.
"I don't see any lights," Willow said.
"The children would have been up by the
buildings," said Giles, "as would the
construction workers. Come on." He slipped
his arm around Willow's shoulders, and they
started up the slight rise toward the houses.
His arm. Giles's arm was resting warm against
Willow's back, casually, as if it had been
there a thousand times before. His hand was
cupped over the round bit of her shoulder, and
she could feel body warmth seeping through
his clothing and into her side. And he wasn't
making a big deal of it. He was just...
holding her. Guiding her up the hill.
Pulling her to a halt when they heard the
sobbing.
"Hello?" Giles called. "Is there anyone
here?"
"There is indeed," came a voice from a patch
of shadow, "and I'll thank you to quit your
tramping about and waking me three wee babes."
"We're sorry," said Willow.
"Indeed. We had heard that a child cried
out here some mornings, and wondered if there
was anything we could do."
"And should they not be weeping, with the
clamor of the school bells soon to come and
deafen the poor wee things?"
"We're sorry," said Willow again. "We didn't
know."
"For twenty-five years we've guarded this
place, and this is the thanks we get! Pesky
bells!"
"Guarded it from what?" Willow asked.
"Is there anything we can do?" said Giles.
"Do? You can give me the loan of that shiny
red car, to move my wife and children away
from this place, and them that live here can
rot for all I care!"
"Certainly," said Giles, "if that will help."
He held out the car keys. A skinny hand
darted out of the shadow and snatched them,
and then the shadow was gone.
"Giles?" asked Willow. "Did you just loan
your car to a demon?"
"One of the Good Folk, actually. Don't you
know your fairy tales, Willow? The car will
be back safe and sound tomorrow morning."
"Says you."
"Says me. Come and sit down, and let's wait
for it." Again his arm went around her.
"Giles? When did we start with the arm
thing?"
Just like that, the warmth of him was gone,
and he was standing at a distance.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to make
you uncomfortable."
"You didn't." She closed the distance between
them and slid her hands along the sleeves of
his coat. "I just wondered where it came from
all of a sudden."
"It's not all of a sudden," he said. "It's
always been there, but I couldn't...."
"Couldn't what?"
"You'll laugh."
"Is that a bad thing?"
Giles was chuckling himself. "I didn't even
realize it was happening," he said. "Willow,
sometime in the last month or so you crossed
the line between student body and faculty,
and, well...."
"All of a sudden I'm a grownup?"
"Something of the sort, yes."
"I wish this had happened last year."
"I don't know that it could have happened,
that either of us were ready...."
"Giles, I'm with Tara now." She caught him
when he tried to pull away again, held his
hands in hers and... and turned to face the
noise behind them.
"Good God," said Giles.
"No," said Willow, "it's a horse."
"I can see that it's a horse, Willow. I just
meant where did it come from?"
"Xander said there was a stable."
"Twenty years ago there was a stable. That
thing looks... well, it looks remarkably
well cared for, for one thing." He edged up
to the animal, slowly raising an arm and
scratching its poll. "It's devilishly tame,
as well."
"I don't know about this...."
"Just look at him, Willow. He's beautiful!"
He was that. He was an elegant saddle horse,
taller than an Arabian but without the
Thoroughbred's huge hindquarters. He was also
black, shadow-black, night-black, as black
as the heart of a demon out of hell. And
Giles had moved around to the side and had
his hands on the horse's withers.
"I don't know if I'd do that," she said.
"It'll be all right," said Giles. "We'll
stand a better chance of spotting his owner
this way." He jumped and landed astride the
animal. It danced in neat circles to the
signals of his knees, and Giles laughed in
boyish glee. "I didn't realize how much I'd
missed horses," he said. The animal swung
around one more time, and this time his step
was different, sharper, less mannered, and
when he came to face Willow his eyes had
brightened to a glowing yellow, the same
yellow as Spike's eyes.
"Giles, get down, now." The Watcher never
had a chance. The horse bolted straight for
Willow. She darted aside, then back in as
the horse spun, and grabbed Giles by the
arm. She fell to the ground, and he twisted
as she pulled him from the horse so as not
to land on her, and came up clutching his
shoulder. The horse, now in fully demonic
form, had turned at some distance and was
snorting fire and throwing sparks from his
hooves as he pawed the ground. Willow
reached under Giles's coat.
"Now?" he demanded.
She extracted the crossbow and cocked it.
Oh, no. Where was a horse's heart? That
thing had an awful lot of chest, and if she
missed... there was no time. The horse
sprang toward them with an evil scream, and
Willow fired.
The scream stopped abruptly, and the horse
disintegrated.
"Oh," said Giles.
"Oh?"
"Oh, as in, what were the Good Folk guarding?"
"Oh. Giles, are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
She slid a hand over his chest. His breathing
was shallow, and he whimpered when she neared
his left arm.
"No, you're not," Willow said. "Here, let
me." She tied his arm up in his jacket and
led him the long way out the front gate and
back around the fence, and then sat holding
him until his car was returned and she could
drive him to the hospital.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Everything okay?" Tara asked as Willow
slipped into bed beside her.
"I was trying not to wake you."
"I wanted to wake up. What happened?"
"We dusted a demon, and some fairies moved
out, and Giles has a broken collarbone,
but he's going to be okay."
"That's good, then."
"Yeah. Tara? Hold me, please."
Arms snaked around her, warm arms.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine, but hold me, okay? Just keep
holding on. Don't ever let go."
"I won't," said Tara. "I promise."
* * *