__Pleadings__
By Jolene Beasley
London was cold in winter... something Giles had quite forgotten. It was cold, foggy, wet, and miserable. And busy. And crowded. And wonderful.He looked down at the face of his beloved, smiling at the look of childlike wonderment on her face. The city seemed so foreign to her. The buildings were so different; old, weathered, dignified, and beautiful in their own way. She barely kept her eyes on where she was going, trusting him to guide her safely down the crowded sidewalk. She feared she might never return to this place, his homeland, so she wanted to burn it into her memory.
They stopped just outside the hotel, its over-proportioned exterior reflecting a bygone age of sumptuous splendor. "Leave it to a bunch of old Watcher guys to choose a place that looks like the opening scene of a PBS special," Buffy said, tilting her head back to gaze at the huge granite facade, and Giles chuckled his agreement. The Council told them what flight to take, what taxi would pick them up, what hotel they would stay in, and how long they would stay. The Council took care of everything, except, of course, the expense. They left that up to Giles. It was at his request that he and Buffy had made the trip, so he had to bear the cost. He didn't mind. He was one step closer to his goal.
They entered the lobby, nodding at the uniformed doorman, and went straight to the check-in area. A John Steed look-alike in a pin-striped suit greeted them with a prim "How may I be of service, sir... miss?" He took them in with a thinly veiled look of disapproval.
Handing over his itinerary, Giles spoke calmly. "Reservations for two in the name of Rupert Giles... seven nights, adjoining rooms, please. No floor preference." The clerk sniffed, discreetly checking the computer screen that was well hidden below the beautiful wooden counter. Finding the matching reservation, the man had no choice but to change to a more conciliatory tone. He smiled, the expression never touching his eyes.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Giles. Everything is in order... however, the room arrangements will have to be... adjusted. We can, of course, take care of that right away. If you will allow me..." he gestured toward the sitting area, indicating that they were to wait. "...I'm sure we will have something appropriate available momentarily." He turned, dismissing them, and picked up his telephone.
Buffy stared openly at the oversized architecture. "This place is amazing, Rupert. I've never seen anything like it. No wonder you thought Sunnydale was so
strange! Did you grow up around places like this?"
"Not really." He guided her to an ornate settee, and they sat facing the windows, enjoying the view despite the gloomy weather. "I was raised north of here, in the country. I never saw London until after I... ran away from school, and it took some getting used to." He rested his head against the back of the settee, feeling a little fatigued from the long journey. "Every time I come here, it takes some getting used to." He suppressed a yawn and closed his eyes.Buffy was too excited to be tired. "Can we do the sightseeing thing while we're here? Just a little? Please?" She reached over and twined her fingers in his, her thumb caressing the inside of his palm, and he reacted instantly, opening his eyes and smiling at her with more than passing interest.
"Of course we can. I'll do my best to play tour guide while we're here. Of course, some of my old haunts are slightly... uhm, off the beaten path. Not in the best of neighborhoods. Best to leave them off the tour, I think." His eyes never left hers, and she began to feel the undercurrent of desire pulling at her. She blinked and looked away, composing herself, and allowing him to do the same. She still held his hand, though, and she looked down at their entangled fingers with a small grin.
'You think you're tired now, you sexy thing...' She thought to him, and watched with satisfaction as a flush began to creep into his face. His quick, embarrassed grin made her insides flutter. Just being next to him, touching him,
caused emotions to spill out of her like water from an artesian well. She didn't
think she could be any happier than she was right now. Her joy washed against him, soaking him to the soul, and he caught his breath at the sensation. She smiled a slow smile, and her thoughts continued, '...just wait'll I get you upstairs...'
"Buffy, behave." He whispered. A split second later, he heard the clerk call his
name. They unclasped their hands, stood and made their way to the reservations desk. The clerk handed both keys to Giles with an air of disdain. He snapped his fingers, and a valet appeared. In less than a minute, they and their luggage were soon on its way to the third floor.
As they rode upward in the wrought-iron elevator, Giles leaned over and whispered, "Did you see our original room arrangements? They put us on separate floors, the old gits. Bloody cheek."
Buffy laughed out loud, then stopped abruptly as the elevator operator raised an eyebrow at her. He sniffed, then turned back to the door, his shoulders registering stiff annoyance at the noise. She shrank back against Giles, frowning. "Where are the 'No Talking' signs? I missed 'em."
He snorted, ignoring the operator's sidelong glance. "There aren't any. The personnel are just extremely anti-social." Her laughter accompanied the creaking of the iron doors as they reached their floor and exited. "I have a feeling that we're going to be the subject of whispered conversation for some time to come." He nodded knowingly at the operator before escorting Buffy down the hall.
Their rooms were large and elegantly appointed. After Giles tipped the bellhop and closed the door, Buffy decided to thoroughly inspect both suites, admiring the view of the street below and trying out the furniture for comfort. After she had satisfied her curiosity, she sauntered back through the connecting door, and sat down on the bed in his room. Sitting on Giles' bed, she watched him unpack for a few minutes, her eyes following him appreciatively as he moved around the room, then decided to liven things up a bit. Sliding over to the middle of the bed, she patted the spot beside her and said in her most persuasive tone, "Come here and try this bed out with me, Rupert. If we're gonna be here a week, we better make sure we're gonna be comfortable."
Warm shivers of anticipation ran up his spine as he turned around. The look in her eyes was unmistakably inviting. They had been so patient, but they were mere weeks from the wedding, and it was getting more difficult to say no to the tug of passion. His heartbeat increased dramatically, and he suddenly forgot what he had been doing. "If, uhm... if we start anything now, love, we will most definitely be late for supper." The expression on his face was in direct contrast to his words. Right now, all he wanted to do was forget the Council, the meeting, and even supper, and lose himself in her.
"We could order in." The words were almost a purr. She held out a hand, and his resolve melted away. He dropped the socks he was holding. Never taking his eyes off hers, he stepped over and took her hand in his.
He crawled onto the bed beside her and her arms enveloped him. He reached back just long enough to put his glasses on the night stand, then turned to give her his full attention. His eyes brimmed with love and his field of vision narrowed until she was all he could see, all he wanted to see. He leaned her back slowly until she lay stretched out beneath him. He rubbed his nose against hers, Eskimo style, and then kissed her forehead, brushing the hair back from her eyes. Touching his face with her fingertips, she gazed into his eyes, watching the color deepen as he became aroused. It was one of the details that she loved... how his eyes reflected his feelings, how his breathing quickened when he looked at her, how his pulse raced under her hand, how his voice and his thoughts told her everything she wanted to know.
His lips met hers softly. Even in the throes of passion, he was so gentle it always brought tears to her eyes. She responded by pulled him closer, wrapping one leg over him and unbuttoning his shirt, slowly caressing his chest as they kissed. Their slow pace allowed the Bond to deepen and expand, and brought a sense of altered consciousness that made just kissing an erotic event. His shirt and her top had just slid to the floor together when the bedside telephone rang.
Groaning, he rolled over and picked up the receiver. "Three-twenty-two, Giles speaking." He listened, trying his best not to pant into the mouthpiece. "Harrison? So good to hear from you! Ah, well, thank you... who told you... oh, yes, of course. Dinner? Where? That will be... fine. Yes, of course, you'll meet her. See you at eight, then. Yes, it'll be like old times. Thank you. Good-bye." He hung up the phone and lay on his back, trying to catch his breath.
"Priceless. The fellows I used to work with at the Museum have decided to welcome me home. Looks like someone on the council has been talking to Harrison. He knows about you, and wants to meet us at our old pub. Not a word for over three years, and now suddenly I'm guest of the hour. Lovely."
Buffy slid over and lay her head on his chest, running her fingers through the soft curling hair. "Maybe they just woke up and realized what a great guy you are. Like I did."
He had to laugh at that. Hanging out in smoky pubs into the wee hours just wasn't his style. That dark part of his life was long over with and best forgotten. He had worked hard to put it behind him, and had almost become a hermit until his coworkers at the Museum took pity on him and started inviting him to the pub. It would be nice to see the old boys, even if it meant enduring enough secondary tobacco smoke to start his habit up again.
She sighed a resigned sigh. "So, I'm giving up a roll in the hay with my sexy fiancee to meet a bunch of pub-hopping, tweed-clad, museum-loving old farts? I'm such a lucky girl." She grinned, kissing him soundly. "At least you'll be suffering right along with me." She kissed him again, lingering a long moment to remind him of what he was giving up. "So, are any of these moldy old guys married? Or am I going to be the only female in the bunch?"
He had to think for a moment, distracted as he was. "Uh, well, I think Harrison is married. Maybe Braithwaite. I'm not sure about Davis, but Eddington is a confirmed bachelor." He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of her against him. "You'd best save judgment on these gents until you meet them. They're not your stereo-typical museum curators, believe me."
"Well, we better start getting ready, then. It's almost six-thirty, and I need at least an hour to make myself beautiful."
He laughed again, and stroked her delicate chin with a light touch. "You don't need an hour, or even a minute. You are always beautiful."
"Maybe so, sweetie, but I will need to put on more clothes than I'm wearing right now." She looked at his bare chest under her hand. "And, so will you."
********
The museum curators proved to be more lively than she had anticipated. Davis and Eddington, the two younger, single men, arrived first. Harrison and Braithwaite came in soon after and introduced their wives, personable ladies that Buffy liked instantly. After congratulating Giles and Buffy noisily on their engagement, they all sat down to a hearty dinner. The four stodgy looking men, resplendent in their ultra-conservative tweed, then proceeded to celebrate Giles' good fortune by lighting up huge, smelly cigars and getting thoroughly drunk. They spent the rest of the night singing ridiculous drinking songs and teasing Giles unmercifully.
Buffy and Giles both declined to get tipsy, fearing that a loss of inhibitions might cause them to lose the tenuous control they had over the Bond, and do something... inappropriate... in public. 'Not that this bunch would mind.' She thought, then laughed as Braithwaite loudly raised a toast to Giles' virility and the rest of the pub shouted their approval. 'They'd probably applaud.' Buffy chattered happily with Mrs. Harrison and Mrs. Braithwaite as the men grew increasingly noisy. The ladies seemed polite and composed, a sharp contrast to the outlandish behavior going on just a few feet away. Buffy glanced at Giles periodically, knowing by the feelings she got from him that he was enjoying himself. He seemed content to watch the proceedings, laughing good-naturedly at his old friends' antics and bearing the ribald jokes that were aimed his way. He finally broke down and took his turn at the piano, playing passably well and surprising Buffy with a beautiful tenor voice that was certainly wasted on bawdy tavern ditties. She watched him relax and unwind with a sense of relief. She knew he needed the distraction.
At one-thirty in the morning, during yet another slurred singing session, Giles' barely stifled yawns managed to catch Harrison's attention. He immediately took pity on his old friend, and called it a night. Giles endured another round of back-slaps, not-so-subtle innuendoes, and vigorous handshakes. To Buffy's dismay, each man in turn kissed her cheek fondly, causing her to wrinkle her nose at the smell of alcohol and tobacco. The ladies hugged her like a sister and patted Giles kindly on the cheek. They all said their farewells and exited the pub. The tipsy men headed down the dark street singing at the top of their lungs, the two patient ladies in tow. They all turned to wave cheerfully at Buffy and Giles as they rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.Giles breathed deeply as the cold night air began to wake him from his stupor. "Ahhh... I needed a bit of fresh air to wake me up. I was beginning to think we were going to meet the milkman this morning."
Buffy snuggled against him, not used to the cold. "You didn't tell me you were such a party animal in your younger days."
"I wasn't, actually. I was the stodgy fellow who ruined everyone's fun by leaving early. Never was a night owl... until I became an active Watcher, that is. Now, it's old hat. If it wasn't for the time difference and jet lag, I could've lasted them all out." He fought down another yawn.
Buffy looked up at his tired face with disappointment. "You too tired for smoochies?"
"Oh, I'm sure I can manage to stay awake for a little while longer." He tightened his arm around her, and they started for the hotel.
They had traveled about two blocks when Giles felt a sickening twinge low in his stomach. Stopping mid-stride, he groaned and bent over slightly. Buffy immediately went into a defensive posture. "There's a vamp around here, Rupert, did you feel it?"
"Yes... a singularly unpleasant sensation. And you feel this every time you sense a vampire?"
"Yep." She continued to scan the area as she spoke. "You're probably the only man alive who knows what it's like to have pre-menstrual cramps."
"I don't think I'll ever get used to it." He straightened suddenly, catching shadowy movement out of the corner of his eye. "Behind you." He said, softly, turning in toward her as if they were going to kiss.
The shadow came toward them suddenly, and they separated, darting in opposite directions and causing the vamp to stop, blinking in confusion. Prey wasn't supposed to do that, he thought. Prey was supposed to scream and run. He had a job to do, and they weren't cooperating at all..
Giles stepped back from the creature, quietly getting behind him. Buffy moved in front, smiling teasingly. "Little doggie wanna play?" She taunted, and he growled, grabbed for her and missed. She waggled her fingers in the demon's face, and laughed when he snapped at them. "Oh, bad dog. No treats for you tonight." Hearing Giles' voice in her head, she suddenly leaped, kicking the vamp soundly in the chest. He flew back, impaling himself neatly on the stake Giles had braced in his hand. The wind scattered the ashes down the deserted street.
"I thought we left the vamps in Sunnydale. Guess I was wrong." She took Giles' arm again as if nothing had happened, and they started down the street again. "I see what you mean about this not being a nice neighborhood."
Giles unlocked the door to his room, and Buffy slid around him impatiently. She watched him enter, and closed the door, making sure it was locked securely.
"Seems cold in here. Oh, by the way, did I ever tell you what Faith said about slaying vampires?" She let her coat drop to the floor.
"And just what did Faith say about slaying vampires?" Giles hung his coat up neatly, pointedly frowning at her until she sighed and picked up her coat. As she hung it up next to his, she continued her train of thought.
"Well, she said slaying always made her hungry and horny." Buffy watched him freeze in surprise, halfway out of his jacket. "I'm not exactly hungry, but the other..." She came up behind him and pulled the jacket off his arms. "That's what I am right now." She ran her fingers beneath his waistband, unbuttoning the hidden buttons holding his braces in place. She slid her arms around his waist, and did the same thing for the front two straps, smiling against his back as he caught his breath. "I wanna get back to what we were doing this afternoon, before we were so rudely interrupted by the Good Time Gang."
"So do I." He turned to gather her into his arms. He couldn't resist her, even as tired as he was. He tipped her head up with one hand and kissed her hungrily, relishing the feeling of her hands on his back, his waist, his chest. His need for her came through loud and clear, his emotions winding with hers into the strong strands of desire they had shared a few hours before.
He was just beginning to descend into non-thinking bliss when Buffy pulled back slightly, surprising him. "Rupert?" Her voice was shaky and uncertain. "Did you leave the windows open when we left?"
"No, I didn't." He turned to look at the windows, both barely cracked, but unlocked. He felt a slight chill as the cold night air filtered through. The curtains were drawn open just a few inches. He felt her flash of fear echoing his. He immediately opened the night stand, taking out a cross and two stakes. Handing a stake to her, he began to search the room. She stayed right behind him, covering his back.
"A vamp couldn't come in here, could it?" She said, keeping her voice low.
"I don't know. It is a public place. I'm not sure of the protocol of such things where hotels are concerned."
"What, did you miss that question on the Watcher's Test?"
He ignored the jibe. "I would imagine a vampire could come in, if the windows were opened for him. Or her."
"Rupert, I have a feeling we're being set up, here. I don't like this at all."
"Neither do I. It seems that someone wants to see that we never make the Council meeting. Someone alive and working with the undead." He swore in disgust as he continued his search. Finding no hiding demons - or humans - he strode to the windows, closing and locking them securely. "We'll have to check your room, as well. The door wasn't locked when we left."
He reached for the handle, unsuccessfully trying to turn it. "It seems to be locked now. We'll have to go in through the hall door."
They eased into the hall with Giles still brandishing his cross. Buffy quickly unlocked the door, and they turned on the light and braced for a confrontation. The room looked empty. A thorough exploration confirmed it. She unlocked the door between their rooms, and looked in. "If they're trying to scare us, it worked. I'm really spooked now. It's one thing to face vamps, but nasty humans really wig me out!"
"Uhm, I'd feel better if you stayed with me tonight... for safety." He added, seeing her hopeful look. Her face fell as he unlocked the door between the rooms, and entered his suite. She followed, frowning, and locked the door securely behind them.
"I guess getting frisky is out of the question now, huh?" She followed him into the middle of the room, her disappointment overriding her fear for a moment. He looked down at her. Hating every word, he responded, "I'm sorry, love. I think we'd better be on our guard." Reaching down into his large weapons bag, he realized that something was missing. "As a matter of fact, I'm sure of it. My crossbow is gone."
Buffy sat on the foot of the bed, nerves jangling with the possibilities. "Somebody wants to make sure we have a rough time in London." She sighed, resigning herself to another long vigil. "I'll take first watch... and watch you get undressed." She perked up slightly at that. "At least that'll be fun."
Buffy decided at seven-thirty the next morning that she hated the telephone. Grabbing a pillow, she pulled it over her head with a whine. She heard Giles talking softly, but she didn't want to wake up enough to hear what he said. She barely remembered him relieving her around five a.m. She waited for him to hang up the phone, peeking out from under the pillow, afraid to ask about the subject of the call.
She didn't have to wait long. Giles turned to her with a somber expression, and sat on the edge of the bed. His feeling of sadness touched her, and she sat up quickly. "What is it? What's wrong?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign of weariness and stress. "That was Braithwaite. Harrison and his wife are missing. They never made it home. There's a police search going on right now. We should be getting a call from Scotland Yard any minute."
"Oh, no... Scotland Yard? What would they want with us?" She hugged herself, suddenly feeling cold again.
"We were among the last to see them al... I mean, before they disappeared. They'll want to ask us some questions." He slumped suddenly, despair evident in his manner. "We may not have been the only ones who encountered a vampire last night, Buffy."
"You don't think... the vamps are here just because we're here, do you?" Horror crept into her voice. "That would mean it's our fault those nice people..."
"I think they're here because someone doesn't want us to be here. Someone who values human life as little as a vampire would. And I fully intend to find out who that someone is." As he spoke, the his voice became steadily quieter and colder. "And, I intend to see that they are very, very sorry they did so."
Buffy shivered just as the telephone jangled again. Scotland Yard was calling.
They left the hotel room in silence, an air of melancholy around them. Once in the lobby, a policeman directed them to the hotel security office. Inspector Graves met them at the door. He was courteous, professional, and unreadable. Buffy and Giles told their stories separately, then together. There were no discrepancies to be found in their words. The Inspector thanked them and dismissed them. As Giles held the door open for Buffy, Graves caught his arm, but waited until she had gone outside before he spoke.
"You don't intend to leave London any time soon, do you?" His expression never changed.
"Well, we are only going to be here for a week, actually. Meeting relatives, introducing my fiancee round, seeing old friends. We're to be married in a few weeks." Giles looked at Buffy, then back at the officer, and stated frankly, "I don't wish to postpone my honeymoon, Inspector. Would you?"
The man followed Giles' look, nodded appreciatively, and actually smiled for the first time. "Of course not, sir. We'll do our best to clean things up quickly. Please try and enjoy your stay, but if you venture out of town, do us the courtesy of ringing us first. We don't like little surprises at the Yard."
'No, I don't imagine you do.' He thought grumpily as he left the office and joined Buffy in the hall. She smiled up at him, trying to lift his spirits. He smiled back, putting his dark mood on hold. With his arm firmly around her, he decided he didn't give a fig about what a bunch of prim hired servants - or anyone else, for that matter - thought. "Hungry, darling?"
"You read my mind... again." The smile on her face widened.
He steered her toward the front door. "I know this little place where you can order breakfast dishes from four different countries. They're sure to have something you'll like."
"Won't be blueberry pancakes, but I'm game to try." She matched cadence with his strides playfully.
"Wait'll you taste their blintzes. You may fall in love all over again." Hugging her to him, they walked out into the cold morning.
As soon as they came back to the hotel, well fed and ready for the day, the desk clerk called his name and waved a small piece of note paper at him. Giles read the note, and sighed. "Our appointment with the Council has been set for this evening. I'll feel better when this is all over. Once the decision is handed down, perhaps our shadowy pursuers will leave us alone."
Buffy looked doubtful. He didn't even sound too convinced of his own theory. "Hopeful, much? But, what about the Harrison's, Rupert? We have to find out what happened to them!"
"Of course. I wouldn't rest easy knowing we could have done something, and didn't." He shoved his hands into his pockets in frustration. "We have no idea where to begin our search. We're flying blind."
"No, we're not. Not really." Buffy's eyes sparkled as an idea formed in her head. "We have a resource we haven't even tapped yet."
Ten minutes later, sitting on the side of the bed in his hotel room, Giles listened with growing awe as Buffy talked her way around an obstinate and very protective secretary, persuading her that the matter at hand was of the utmost urgency. After a brief wait, Buffy found herself speaking directly to the famous Dame Judith Kinsley-Witherspoon. She took a deep breath, and spoke courteously and correctly, surprising Giles even more. The conversation obviously was going her way, by the look on her face.
"I know you must have hundreds of calls a day, Dame Kinsley-Witherspoon... of course, Dame Judith." She winked at Giles. "But you know a little of our story already, and you are the one person in England who can help us without giving away our secret." She listened again, nodding. "That is correct, Ma'am, you are well informed. Vampires. A new group, possibly. It could even be more than one group. It's also possible that they may have already harmed some of Rupert's friends. I can't bear to think of it." She sniffed, and continued. "We have to find out where these creatures are hiding, and prevent any more tragedy." Giles shook his head. Astonishing.
"Yes, I'll stay right by the telephone until I hear directly from you... Tea? That would be..." She looked up at Giles, asking him to help her on that one. His look of pleased shock told her the answer. "...wonderful! Yes, we meet with the Council tonight. Tomorrow afternoon? At four o'clock?" Once more, she waited for him to nod in agreement. "Rupert and I are looking forward to finally meeting you, Dame Judith. It will be an honor. Oh, thank you! Good-bye."
She hung up the phone with a satisfied smirk. The expression on his face was halfway between disbelief and admiration. "What?"
He shook his head again. "Your flexibility in language usage never ceases to amaze me."
"When in Rome, Rupert. Now, what can we do to while away the time until the nice rich lady calls us back?" She began to toy with the collar of his shirt, idly brushing her fingers against his chest. Her coy expression changed to a pout as he stood up and moved away from her. He took off his glasses and laid them on the dresser, stifling a yawn.
"I, for one, intend to take a nap. We could be in for..." He ducked as a pillow flew past his head. "...a very long night..." The second pillow caught him square in the face.
Giles was sleeping peacefully with Buffy draped across his chest like a blanket when the telephone awakened them for the second time that morning. He glanced at the clock... less than three hours had passed. Nudging Buffy awake, he handed her the receiver. She cleared her throat and repeated Giles' formally styled telephone greeting almost word for word. "Three-twenty-two, Buffy Summers speaking. Oh, yes, Dame Judith! I never expected to hear from you this soon! Scotland Yard should have recruited you years ago. You are amazing!" She motioned for pen and paper, and by the time she hung up, she had written down three possible areas of new vampire activity in their section of London.Waving the small bit of paper in her hand, she crowed, "It's not what you know, it's Who you know! I love that little old rich lady. You should've heard her, she was positively cackling with glee. She rousted somebody from the council and made him tell her everything he knew about recent vampire sightings. Then, she made some calls to the local police, and even confirmed the eyewitness sightings before she called me! This lady rocks!"
They began their search for the Harrisons immediately, counting on the remaining afternoon light to give them the advantage. The first tip was cold. There were no vampires and no hostages to be found. The second area yielded no better results. The day was nearly gone before a bartender and a waitress at a local restaurant near the third site admitted to seeing two people matching the Harrison's description being hustled along the street the night before. Giles' mouth grew dry as he tried to piece together the puzzle... he and Buffy may have been the target, but somehow the vamps had snatched the wrong pair. He only hoped that they were still alive.
At the same time, below street level, not two blocks away, the unfortunate vamps in question were being given a good tongue-lashing. Their human ringleader paced back and forth in front of them as they studied the dirty floor beneath their feet. His words made them angry, but they couldn't raise a finger against him. He had shrouded himself in a strong protection spell before associating with their kind, and was totally unafraid of them.
"And just which one of you idiot worm-brains decided that these two matched the description I gave you? Was it you, Fleece? You didn't notice these two were twenty years older than the ones I wanted, did you, you worthless tick? Have you been dead so long your eyes have rotted away in your mash-brained, maggot-infested skull? I have half a mind to stake you through the stomach and leave you here to rot. No, better, I should chain you both to the wall and let all bloody four of you starve to death!"
Fleece glanced at his partner in crime. "But, Karl said it was them... you know, all you humans look alike to us. Besides, Crip never came back from checkin' the other two out, and we had to do somethin'. So, we took a shot."
"And did it ever occur to you, that maybe, just maybe, the REASON that garbage-eating dead-head didn't come back was because he ran into THE VERY BLEEDIN' PEOPLE YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KIDNAP?"
Fleece cringed. It never occurred to him at all.
The human whirled suddenly and staked the smaller vampire. Dust rained down on Fleece as he cowered in the corner.
"Get out and find the Watcher and the Slayer. It'll be dark in a few minutes. Recruit as many others as you need to. Don't come back without them."
Fleece stood, still terrified. "But, but, I haven't eaten yet! Can't I have one of these?" He gestured at the unconscious couple on the floor.
"No, you cretin! Leave them here! You drain them and we'll have more angry Watchers in London than flies on a corpse. Even I couldn't persuade old Dad to look the other way. Just get OUT!"
The demoralized demon slunk away into the shadows. The human stared down at the motionless forms on the floor. He smirked, and remarked, "Lucky for you two you didn't wake up. If you had, well, you'd never do it again." He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
A few seconds later, one of the figures on the ground stirred, then sat up. Harrison looked over at his wife, and said, "You all right? Okay, hang on until I get these ropes off. Good idea, yours, pretending to be unconscious. That little fool just put a noose around his neck."
"Did you get a good look at him, Trevor?" His wife shook her hair out of her eyes and scooted closer, intending to help with his bonds.
"I bloody well did. And I think Rupert will be interested to know who wants him and his pretty little lady dead."
A loud crash caused them both to jump. Harrison cried in triumph, "Aha! The cavalry just arrived, bang on time!"
Buffy finished kicking the door in, and walked in, with Giles a few steps behind. She snapped the ropes off their wrists and feet and helped them both to stand.
After realizing that his friends hadn't been harmed, Giles breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God you're all right."
Buffy patted Mrs. Harrison on the arm in sympathy. "Welcome to our world, you guys. Fun, isn't it?"
Harrison began brushing the dust off his coat, and smiled. "A barrel of laughs, my dear. Rupert, old boy, I have some interesting information for you."
* * * * *
Once back at the hotel, Giles listened with horror as Harrison described the man who was in charge of their abduction. They all agreed that this human behind all the trouble had to be a former Council member or at least a Watcher. It became clear how this man had found out about Buffy and Giles being in London. One of the Council was his father, and he obviously was still enough in the father's good graces to be privy to top secret information. Giles fervently hoped that the Council member was ignorant of his son's devious behavior... the alternative was too horrible.
"Now, all we have to do is determine who this conspirator is." Giles didn't look hopeful. "That could take time... which is something we don't have. The meeting is tonight."
Harrison looked glum. "I saw his face clearly, but without a name to put to it, it's useless."
"Unless he has a criminal record."
Harrison brightened considerably. "He'll be on file then, wouldn't he? I think it's time I called and let the authorities know that we're still alive, and let everybody off the hook, so to speak. They'll have me look for the kidnapper's picture, and I might just get lucky."
They barely had time to make their official reports to the police. Leaving the Harrisons to look through mug shots, Buffy and Giles grabbed a cab and went directly to Council headquarters. Arriving a few minutes early, he stopped just before entering the building, nervous and worried. She caught his hesitance and hugged his arm tightly, sending reassuring thoughts to him. They both knew their future hung in the balance tonight.
"Come on, Rupert. Let's get this over with and go get some dinner. I'm startin' to get hungry."
He laughed in spite of his anguish. "Oh, dear. We'd better hurry, hadn't we? We don't want the Council to see you when you're hungry... you become quite grumpy." Her laughter accompanied them up the stairs and into the unknown.
Without preamble, they were ushered into a darkened room. Buffy almost laughed again when she saw the single chair and lamp in the center of the room... someone must've watched "The Untouchables." She felt Giles take a steadying breath, and center himself, finding a calm that spread between them and allowed them to relax. The man who ushered them in gestured to the chair, indicating that Buffy was to sit first. He then led Giles to a side room, and closed the door. He turned, standing guard, his face expressionless.
Buffy crossed her ankles and leaned back, an unconcerned smile on her face. She had no intention of causing trouble, but she was not about to bow in fear to these clueless old men. The smile never left her face as the questions began.
Over two hours later, Giles had nearly exhausted himself pacing. He knew through the Bond that Buffy seemed unafraid and confident, but he couldn't read the Council's minds, and that's where the worry was.
The door surprised him, and Buffy floated in, a serene smile on her face. She kissed him lightly, ignoring the stoic guard, and said softly, "Your turn, gorgeous."
He smiled at her, lingering a split second to look into her calm blue eyes. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped out and onto the field of battle. As he sat in the hard wooden chair, he unconsciously mimicked Buffy's casual position, his legs stretched out, ankles crossed, his wrists resting loosely on the chair arms.
The first few questions were routine, but when he reached the part of the story about the messenger of light, and the role of the Bond in their lives, several of the members stood, disagreeing with him vehemently. The Chairman, raising his voice above the din, tried to restore order. Their voices grew louder as others joined in the argument.
Giles tried to reason with the dissenters, straining to see them in the darkness. "The power of the Bond was meant to assist us in our fight! But it doesn't manifest itself immediately... there has to be a foundational relationship first!"
"A relationship based on what? Lust? Ridiculous!" One angry Council member shouted.
"Based on time. Trust. Familiarity. Things we have discouraged for centuries. Our Slayers die before they can reach their full potential! We send them out before they're fully equipped!"
Another angry voice came from behind him. "And just who are you to tell us what to do?"
Giles turned, trying to face his antagonist. He wasn't getting through. "The only one in this room who knows anything about the Bond at all!"
The Chairman rose, silencing the room. "We have agreed to hear the man out. This we will do."
A chorus of 'aye's' answered him, but the three main dissenters raised their voices again. It was becoming a shouting match to rival any Parliament meeting. No one heard the four shadowy figures as they quickly entered the room.
In the side room, Buffy's 'spider sense' began tingling, and her stomach cramped. Giles felt it at the same time. Vampires! She thought, and instantly, he jumped up, knocking the chair over. "Lights!" He shouted, and blinked in surprise when someone quickly complied.
In the center of the room, holding a crossbow that looked suspiciously like Giles' own, stood a thin, hooded figure flanked by two demon-faced vampires. A third vampire guarded the door, making sure no one left.
Giles figured there were more outside, but he couldn't be sure. He thought quickly to Buffy to stay hidden, keeping the element of surprise in their favor. He knew Council members had been trained as Watchers originally, but most of them were well past their prime. He realized with horror that this could very well be a desperate fight. And, with a crossbow aimed squarely at his chest, he also had a good chance of being one of the losers.
The dark figure held the crossbow steady for a long moment, then he laughed and lowered it slightly. "No, I don't think I'll eliminate you just yet, you bloody murderer. I want you to know why you're gonna to die, first."
Giles smiled slightly, the corners of his lips quirking. The mark of an amateur... no self-respecting assassin would bother to explain himself. There was a chance... "Oh, very good, old man. Tell me, in case God asks why I've shown up prematurely." He spied several of the Council exchanging glances, and prayed silently that they weren't all as far gone as they looked.
The other man growled in anger, and shifted the crossbow back to its ready position. "You'll be joking with the Devil, soon enough. God wouldn't have you." He practically spat the word in rage. "Murderer!"
"And just who, pray tell, have I murdered? I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. You seem to know something about me that I don't know about myself. Please, enlighten me. Perhaps I will repent."
"You'd like these old wankers to believe that, wouldn't you?" He waved his left hand at the Council. "But you killed her, and then lied about it, and I never got to say good-bye." The crossbow trembled as the man continued his tirade, and Giles began to worry. 'Oh, no, he truly is mad. This could end badly.'
As the man ranted, Buffy slipped out the back door of the side room and quietly made her way down the outside hall. Holding her make-shift stake - a leg broken off the chair she had been sitting in, she began stalking the enemy.
Back in the main hall, one of the Council members recognized the voice and rose suddenly from his chair. Standing without fear, he addressed the hooded man.
"David? Son? What on earth are you doing?" The man clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. "What are you accusing Giles of? Gwen's death?"
Giles almost gasped as the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place. Of course! David Post, Gwendolyn Post's ex-husband! He spent several years in a mental home after she divorced him. Obviously, he had gotten out somehow, and was blaming Giles for her death.
The man seemed to shrink in size as his hand reached up and pulled the hood away from his face. Glazed, angry eyes met Giles'. The trembling increased as he stared at the focus of his insane hatred.
"David..." Post senior's voice took on a pleading tone. "Giles wasn't there... he was in the hospital. The Glove... it was the Glove of Myhnegon that killed her. She chose her own path, David. No one forced her. It was her choice." He took a step toward his hurting son, his own face tortured. He held out a hand, then stopped in mid-gesture, not sure what to do next.
"No, Dad. That's not how it was. He... he told you that, but it wasn't true. It wasn't her fault... it wasn't!" Young Post lowered his gaze and began to weep, the crossbow wavering from its target. Giles caught movement behind Post, and saw Buffy creeping into the doorway. She quietly clamped her hand over the mouth of the closest vamp, pulled him into the hall and disposed of him without a sound. She crept toward the two flanking creatures, trying to decide which one to tackle first. Giles knew he had to keep David's attention long enough for her to succeed.
"David." His voice was a command. "Look at me, David." Giles never moved as the stricken man raised his gaze in response. "It wasn't your fault, either. You couldn't stop her, could you?" He allowed a sympathetic smile to spread across his face. "It wasn't your fault." He could see behind David that Buffy had efficiently eliminated the last two vampires in the room. He paused just long enough to send her a quick 'well done!' and then took a slow step toward his would-be executioner. "We all know you couldn't kill anyone, David. But that's why she left, isn't it? She wanted you to do things you weren't prepared to do, didn't she? And when you refused, what happened?" He took another step, warning Buffy to move slowly. "What happened, David?"
The younger man began to shake violently, and the crossbow wavered again, the tip dropping slightly down and away from its target. Buffy tensed, almost in position to spring. David's hollow voice answered, barely audible. "She put me away. In a cage. She'd have had me put down, if she could have. And I still loved her." His eyes flashed with rage at the thought, and he stiffened, aiming the crossbow again. "And what does that make me? A BLEEDIN' FOOL!" He roared and pulled the trigger just as Buffy hit him from behind. The bolt went high, embedding itself in Giles' right shoulder. Both men went down, young Post from a backhanded blow to the face from a furious Slayer, and Giles from the impact of a close quarters bow shot.
Buffy was at Giles' side in a heartbeat, pressing her fingers around the bolt shaft to stop the bleeding, and touching his face with the other. She was concentrating fiercely, trying to block the pain that poured off of him in waves. He smiled at her worried expression, and tried to joke. "Don't worry, love, I've been shot before. I must be a particularly tempting target. I must try to find out why... it gets rather tedious at times." He tried to smile, but it quickly turned into a grimace.
"Shut up, you knucklehead. We need to get you to a doctor, fast. You'll be attracting every vamp within ten miles if we don't. Loony-guy here probably invited the whole neighborhood."
The senior Mr. Post spoke firmly, standing over the unconscious form of his errant son. "You needn't worry about vampires gaining access to this building, Miss Summers. We are already taking care of that."
A slender man wearing black-rimmed glasses stepped forward and knelt beside Giles. "And, I am a doctor, Miss. I'll take care of your man, here, don't you worry. He's a tough old boot, and this is just a flesh wound."
Buffy sat back on her heels, letting the doctor do his work. She started grinning, and said, "A flesh wound? That's what they always say in the movies, right after the hero gets shot, and the heroine has to save the day." She put on a haughty face, and looked down her nose at Giles. "Like just now."
Giles began to chuckle, then stopped, catching his breath. "Ow-ow... my God, Buffy, don't make me laugh. It hurts!"
The Chairman, a large, bearlike man with flaming red hair, pulled her away from Giles' side as the doctor administered a strong painkiller and expertly repaired the damage done by the bolt head. In a kind voice, he told her, "You must take him back to the hotel, lass. Can you manage?" She nodded, still keeping her eyes fixed on Giles. She suddenly relaxed as the medicine began to ease his pain. The Chairman shook his head in amazement at the depth of their connection, then continued, "The Council will meet after you leave, and we get things... cleaned up in here." He cast a disgusted look at David Post, still sprawled on the hardwood floor. "We still have much to discuss. We will be in contact as soon as we've decided. Where will you be tomorrow?"
Buffy glanced at the large man, evaluating him. Deciding she could trust him, she said, "We were going to go sightseeing, but we'll probably be at the hotel most of the morning now, or at least until that shot wears off. We're supposed to have tea with Dame Kinsley-Witherspoon at four o'clock, if Rupert is feeling up to moving around by then. I can leave word at the desk."
The Chairman looked surprised and pleased at that. "Dame Judith? Wonderful woman. Excellent writer. Now, then, lass, your Watcher is almost good as new. Doc is an old hand at sewing up war wounds. We'll call you a cab, and let you two be on your way."
Buffy started to go back to Giles, and then stopped. Looking up at the Chairman, she said, simply. "Tell the Council 'thank you.'"
The man looked surprised. "For what, lass?"
"For giving us a chance. For listening." She met his gaze steadily for a long moment. He knew exactly what she meant.
A short time later, Buffy helped her groggy Watcher into his room and sat him down on the bed. The Council doctor had given him a powerful shot for pain, and Giles was barely conscious. She removed his torn jacket and shirt, and winced at the blood soaked bandages. Four inside stitches, five outside. Not too bad, considering. After pulling his trousers and shoes off, she folded the cover back, helped him lie down and covered him, tucking him in carefully. He dozed off immediately. She took his glasses off and lay them on the night stand. She stood for a moment and watched him sleep, stroking his forehead tenderly. Emotions swirled in her head as she thought about the events of the evening. Finally, she undressed quietly and slid into bed beside him, breathing a prayer of thanks that he was going to be all right. Warmth soon enveloped her, and she fell into dreamless slumber.
She awakened the next morning and saw Giles sitting on the edge of the bed, gingerly testing his sore shoulder for mobility. A sharp intake of breath told her that he'd found his limit, and she felt a fresh surge of hurt that faded away slowly. He stood carefully and started for the bathroom. His casual acceptance of his injury made her wonder... just how many times had he been in this situation? How many times had he faced the morning after a brush with death, bruised and sore, yet unbroken? She felt suddenly ashamed that she took him so much for granted. He was always there for her, her magnificent Watcher... Her admiration telegraphed to him, and he turned, head slightly bowed, and smiled a sweet smile. It was as if the lights came on in the room. Her breath caught, and she had to say, "If this is what love is like when it's practically brand-new, I don't know if I'll be able to stand it after we've been together for years..."
"I've heard it will get better as we go along." He turned and entered the bathroom. "And, I've always wanted to be able to prove that theory personally." He bent over carefully, opening the taps on the tub and waiting with his hand in the flow for the water to reach the right temperature.
"Hey, Watcher-man..." Buffy hopped off the bed and ran across the room before he could close the door. "You need any help washing your back?"
They spent a leisurely day wandering London's shopping district, stopping several times to snack and to allow Giles to rest. He seemed to have put his worries about the Council decision behind him and was content just to be alive and with his sweetheart. A contented hum connected them as they strolled, arm in arm, talking about ordinary things like clothes, food, and guest lists for wedding receptions. Buffy called the hotel desk several times, hoping for a message from the Council, but there was none.
After a long lunch, they returned to the hotel and dressed for their visit to Kinsley Hall. Giles patiently explained the tradition and formality of a high tea, and tried to tell her how one conducted oneself at such an event. She listened carefully, then discarded everything she heard and decided to just be herself.
Kinsley Hall was a formidable place. It loomed three stories tall over the rolling countryside, flanked by ancient trees and manicured gardens. The cab left them in the middle of the circle drive, and Buffy once again was faced with a relic from England's distant past. "Wow" was all she could think to say.The Hall had two distinct wings angling out and back from the main building, and Giles hoped they would get a chance to see the view from one of the third story windows. It had to be stunning. Giles knocked on the door, using the brass fixtures attached for that purpose, and stood back, waiting. The huge oak doors creaked open, and a tiny, frail-looking woman appeared between them. Buffy grinned in delight. This lady looked a lot like her great-grandmother Summers, one of her favorite relatives. Giles appeared surprised, and immediately thought, 'What is she doing, answering her own door in a place like this?
'Before either of them could say a word, the little woman cried, "Oh, excellent, you're here! Come in, come in, I've been telling the girls all about your exploits! They're all a-twitter!" She opened the door wide, and gestured for them to enter.
As they passed into the gigantic entry hall, Buffy and Giles looked at each other. 'The girls? What girls?' Buffy shrugged. They'd find out soon enough.Giles stopped to address their hostess and benefactor. "Dame Kinsley-Witherspoon..." He took her hand reverently, and bowed, acknowledging her age and position. "You have my deepest and most fervent gratitude, my Lady. We are forever in your debt."
The little woman actually blushed, her cheeks turning rosy and her eyes twinkling. "Oh, my, Mr. Giles, you charmer, you've quite turned my head! It's no wonder you've managed to capture the heart of this exquisite young lady of yours."
Buffy didn't know whether to blush at the implied compliment or laugh out loud at the sight of her usually stoic Watcher's delighted face. 'This is going to be an interesting afternoon. I wish I could take a video.' Giles turned his head towards her, and held out his hand. She took it, not really knowing what was next.
He drew her to his side, and presented her in formal fashion. "May I present my Slayer, and my fiancee, Buffy Summers." Deciding to let him have his day in the sun, she shifted into a more formal manner, and performed a perfect curtsey. Dame Judith clapped her hands in appreciation. "My dear girl, how lovely. And they say that American schools teach their children nothing of the social graces. You have proven them wrong at the outset!" She marched over to an enormous bell-pull, and gave it a vigorous yank. A gong sounded, and they were instantly surrounded by a large group of fresh-faced servant girls, none of them
seeming older than twenty. After Giles and Buffy handed their coats and scarves to one of the girls, she disappeared into another room. Another girl stepped forward and announced, "Tea will be served in the atrium, Sir, Miss. Do you have a preference of beverage?"
Giles was taken aback, but managed to say, "Earl Grey, if you please." He looked over at Buffy, not sure what she would want.
Again, Buffy surprised him with her insight. "Whatever Dame Judith recommends will be perfect." The maid nodded, smiling, and in turn disappeared into yet another adjoining room.
The third girl stepped forward, and took a deep breath. With a look of concentration, she said, "We will be serving several meat dishes, Sir, Miss. Roast beef, smoked herring, bacon, and pheasant. Do you have a preference?"
Buffy's face lit up. This was incredible! "No preference... it all sounds wonderful. May I sample a little of everything?"
Giles grinned in turn... his exquisite young lady had a voracious appetite. He hoped the servants were prepared to stay late. "The same, here. At your discretion."
There must be ten courses to this meal, Buffy thought as the girls made their menu items known, and took their requests. The whole time, Dame Judith beamed proudly at the young maids, and when the menu was complete, she took her two visitors by the arms and led them into a large sitting room.
Seating them on a beautiful brocaded couch, she gazed at them for a moment, sighed, and sat opposite them in a scaled-down sofa chair that just fitted her diminutive frame. "Now, then, you two must tell me in your own words all about this incredible adventure of yours. Never you mind about your Watcher/Slayer secrecy... I know all there is to know about its history and its intent. When I set out to do a story, I do so with great attention to detail. I'm known for it. I have a feeling that my penchant for detail was the very thing that tipped the scales in your favor recently." Seeing the uncomfortable look on Giles' face, she hastened to reassure him. "Oh, I have no intention of actually writing this story, dear boy. At least, not in pure form. But, do satisfy an old woman's curiosity... I love a good romance!"
Buffy and Giles spent fifteen or twenty minutes recapping the events of the previous two years. Dame Judith, delighted by the tale, asked animated questions that drew their thoughts and feelings out into the open, and they found themselves chatting away like old and dear friends.
Buffy had just gotten to the part about the engagement ring when one of the girls stepped into the room and announced that tea was served. They followed the girl down a long hall and came to another set of heavily carved oak doors. When they stepped inside, they were astounded to find a three story room, filled with daylight from the glassed-in front wall and ceiling. Huge plants were everywhere, and they felt like they had stepped into a rain forest. The sounds of running water and birdsong filled the air. The view of the gently rolling meadow was breathtaking. The atrium lived up to its name.
The trio enjoyed an incredibly diverse and delicious meal, and then passed a pleasant hour talking happily and laughing at some of their past experiences. Dame Judith held them in thrall as she relayed a few adventures of her own, in Spain, British Columbia, India... the tiny woman had been all around the world in her search for a good story. Now she amused herself by taking in young girls off the street, or from orphanages and training them in a marketable skill. The group they met earlier were her newest recruits, and she was exceedingly proud of their progress.
The sun was beginning to set on the horizon when one of the girls appeared at Dame Judith's ear, whispering something and then waiting for an answer. Dame Judith spoke instead to Giles. "Mr. Giles, I think your Council has sent someone for you." She patted his hand as he shifted uneasily. "Take deep, steady breaths, now, and let us go and see what news he brings."
At the end of the entry hall, a small bespectacled man in gray tweed stood, nervously turning his hat in his hands. When he saw Giles and Buffy, he began to smile. Giles felt his heart skip a beat.
"Mr. Giles! So glad I found you! Miss Summers, when you left word that you were having tea with Dame Kinsley-Witherspoon, you probably had no idea she had four manor houses in the area. It took me a little while to check them all."
Buffy looked over at Dame Judith, and giggled. "So sorry, I didn't know."
Dame Judith fixed the Councilman with an authoritative stare. "I believe you have a message for my friends, young man."
The middle-aged messenger flushed slightly, and bowed. "Yes, my Lady. It is rather long, so perhaps..."
"Of course, we must sit down like civilized people. This way."
She led them back to the sitting room, and they all sat, uncomfortably impatient to hear the news.
The messenger cleared his throat and began. "First of all, Mr. Giles, the Council wishes me to thank you for your masterful handling of the... situation last night. And, Miss Summers, also for your prompt and precise response to the vampire threat. You acted as a team, utilizing your individual strengths, and prevented a potential holocaust." He straightened slightly, and Giles knew he was preparing to deliver the Council's decision.
The man paused, nervously gathering his thoughts, and Giles' patience began to wear thin. "Come on, get on with it, man. It's what you're here for." The man looked at Giles, and nodded. "You're right, of course. Your request has been approved..." Relief surged through Giles, and he exhaled the breath he was holding. Buffy suppressed a happy squeal, and Dame Judith beamed radiantly. The man held up his hand, and continued, "... with stipulations. We have decided that it would be a waste of potential to allow such a remarkable gift as yours to go unstudied. We want you to be able to experience (and document, of course) the full measure of the benefits of your remarkable Bond, and verify whether it can be utilized by future teams, as you have mentioned."
Seeing no overt dissension, he continued. "You will be relieved of active duty, as there is a capable slayer already in place at the Hellmouth. The new Watcher is making preparations to move within the next few weeks, however, you must agree to stay in fighting shape, and spend several weeks each summer at the Retreat in the Cotswolds assisting in training, as well as research on the effects of the Bond. Aside from that, you will remain free from any obligation." The messenger stopped, took out his handkerchief, and mopped his brow, relieved to be rid of his burden.
Buffy and Giles exchanged glances and thoughts in an instant. Turning to the messenger, they answered simultaneously, "Yes!"
The messenger smiled at their enthusiastic response. Feeling much more at ease now, he added, "Oh, by the way, I heard some further news you might be interested in. Your friends' kidnapper turn himself in at The Yard a few hours ago, with assistance from his father the other Council members. He's confessed to everything, and will probably end up right back where he was... in the mental home. We were all shocked that our security was so easily breached. Rest assured, it won't happen a second time." The man suddenly remembered something, and jumped to his feet. "I nearly forgot, Mr. Giles. I have your crossbow in the car! Back in a second..." He quickstepped down the hall and out the front door.
"So, we can go home, and get married, now?" Buffy gazed adoringly at Giles, thrilled by the thought.
"Yes, since we're no longer wanted by the Council... or the police." Giles smiled happily, his eyes locked on hers, her joy almost overwhelming him.
Dame Judith gave a sudden cry, startling them all. "Aha! Oh, my dears, I've just had the most wonderful thought!"
Dame Judith's wonderful thought was: It would be a great honor for her new friends to hold their wedding at Kinsley Manor! The incurably romantic old dear would not take no for an answer. There was an ancient gothic chapel on her property which could be reached by horse and carriage (something Buffy had always dreamed of) and her only grandson was an Anglican minister. She insisted she would fly Buffy's family and friends over in her private jet for the festivities, and then fell to discussing bridal gowns and decorations with several of the young maids.
Giles felt as though he was at the center of a whirlwind. He decided to sit back and let the circumstances take him wherever they would. The look on Buffy's face told him all he needed to know, even aside from the Bond. She was ecstatic; therefore, so was he.
Buffy spent the rest of the evening placing calls to Sunnydale, explaining to everyone briefly what had happened, and making travel arrangements for her mother, Wilton, and her friends for the Thursday flight from New York. Before she hung up with her mother the last time, Giles motioned for the phone. Surprised, she handed it over, and he said, "Joyce? Would you mind putting Wilton on, please?" He waited briefly. "Wilton? Yes, thank you, quite a surprise. Uhm, I believe I'm going to need a substitute teacher for my first week of classes. Do you have anyone... oh, of course. Silly of me. You don't mind? Splendid. I think after the last few days I could use a bit of a rest." He chuckled and blushed a bit. "Yes, well, and that, too. I just wanted to get things taken care of before you made the trip here. Yes, it is. Thank you, sir. See you soon."
Later that night, back in their rooms at the hotel, Giles winced as he started to remove his shirt. "I'd forgotten how sore one gets when one is shot with a crossbow." He gave up on the shirt, deciding instead to do something easier, like his trousers. They slid down, pooling at his feet, and he kicked them away, forgetting his neat fetish in his exhaustion.
Buffy came over and helped him pull his arms out of the sleeves. His t-shirt showed traces of blood... the wound was still seeping a little. She frowned, and went into the bathroom for fresh bandages. He was so tired that he allowed her to care for him, sitting on the edge of the bed as she cleaned and bandaged the shoulder. Cupping his chin in her hand, she raised his face until she could see his eyes. They were hazy with fatigue. Smiling, she leaned down and kissed him lightly.
"You look totally fried, sweetie. You need major sleep-time to get this bad owie on it's way to healing."
"Really, I'm not that tired..." He protested weakly.
"Liar." She pushed him back against the pillows, forcing him to lie down. "What you need is a little of the Buffy Summers Patented Relaxation Action, guaranteed to put you to sleep or your money back." A happy smile appeared on his face and he handed her his glasses in acquiescence. "So, you like that idea?" He nodded.
"Okay, lover mine, close your eyes. Sandman's on his way."
She began a slow, gentle massage, avoiding his injured shoulder, and watched as tension leaked out of him and drained away. He relaxed, a contented smile on his face, and she felt an overwhelming tenderness filling her heart. In just a few minutes, her tired husband-to-be was sleeping peacefully. She carefully divested him of his socks and shoes, and pulled the covers over him, tucking him in for the second night in a row. This could get to be a habit... tucking her fella in and falling happily asleep beside him... one she could definitely get used to. So long as he quit getting shot with a crossbow... she didn't think she wanted to get used to that.
She fell asleep and dreamt of castles, brave knights, and happy endings.
* * *