Richard Hutchings stepped back into the shadows as he saw the tall,
bespectacled man approach the shop. He watched with interest as the man
rapped on the door. Hmmm, he thought, strong, intelligent eyes ... too
intelligent maybe. Hutchings pulled further back into the darkness as the
other man peered briefly through the window before shrugging and walking
away. With a slight sigh, Hutchings moved soundlessly to the door, watching
with interest the other man’s progress along the street. Smiling, Hutchings
began chanting under his breath, his hands moving in a quick complex pattern.
His smile widened as he saw the other man pause, shake his head slightly
and then move on. Oh, he thought, you are sensitive to magic, aren’t you,
Mr Giles? Not to matter, he shrugged, this is one spell you won’t be able
to detect. Nothing personal, he grinned, I just need you out of the way.
ONE WEEK LATER:
It was hot … too hot, thought Rupert Giles as he surrendered to the
heat and shrugged off his jacket. Slinging it casually over one shoulder,
he continued his leisurely stroll along Sunnydale’s main street. It’s been
far too long since I simply walked slowly along, taking in the sights and
sounds, he thought. It had been something Giles had enjoyed since he was
a child and a smile crossed his face as he recalled his Mother’s constant
admonition: "Rupert, stop dawdling!" The youthful Giles’ penchant for simply
meandering aimlessly along had irritated his Mother no end. She had never
understood that the dawdling was merely a symptom … a symptom of Giles
losing himself in his thoughts and daydreams. With a strict disciplinarian
upbringing, Giles had discovered at an early age that his mind was the
one place where he could be free from his parents control and he had taken
advantage of this at every given opportunity. As he grew older, he realised
that his dawdling and daydreaming habit had a positive effect: he found
that he could resolve problems that had been preying on his mind by simply
"going out for a dawdle". It seemed to clear his mind, throwing up solutions
that no amount of deep thought would discover. Giles sighed, thrusting
his hand into his pocket and squinting slightly at the intense glare of
the sun. It’s not working today though, he thought ruefully. Today the
dawdling had another purpose: Giles simply didn’t want to go back to the
"Magic Box". He’d gone out for lunch, hoping that some time away would
revitalise him, replenish his waning enthusiasm, but to no avail. He couldn’t
seem to shake this lethargy that had settled upon him, the feeling of depression,
of isolation and loneliness. He frowned as, across the street, he saw the
cause of his current malaise. The new magic shop was brightly coloured
and, thought Giles, looked like a typical tourist trap. It had opened quietly
with no fuss, simply an advert in the local newspaper, but it was attracting
customers in droves, even drawing away Giles’ most fervent regulars. The
"Magic Box" was quiet, too quiet and, although there was still a steady
stream of mail order business, Giles desperately wanted to avoid doing
this months’ accounts for as long as possible. "Hocus Pocus", he thought
derisively as he neared the "Magic Box", what kind of name is that for
a magic shop?
Anya glanced up hopefully as the door opened, her expression hardening
as she saw Giles enter the shop.
"Oh," she said with a touch of annoyance, "it’s only you."
"You were expecting someone else?" Asked Giles wearily as he hung up
his jacket.
"Yes," she replied instantly. "I want someone to buy something. I want
someone to give me money."
Giles merely grunted in response and Anya sighed.
"Do I have to stay here all afternoon?"
"No," replied Giles instantly as he perused the books, "please go."
"I still get paid, right?"
"Yes." Giles tried to keep his voice even. Taking his problems out on
the best assistant he'd ever seen wouldn't help his cause at all. He sighed
and glanced up, smiling slightly. "Enjoy your afternoon, Anya."
"I will," replied Anya, practically running for the door. She reached
for the handle and then stopped, turning to Giles with a serious expression.
"You are alright, aren't you?"
"I'm fine," smiled Giles. "Now, go and enjoy yourself before I change
my …"
Anya was gone before he finished the sentence and Giles chuckled briefly
before turning his attention to the books once more. Research, he thought,
research always helps. Giles thrust his hands in his pockets with a sigh.
What am I supposed to be researching though? There was nothing unusual
happening, nothing out of the ordinary … no real excuse for me to bury
myself in my books. Giles glanced around the deserted shop, his eyes falling
on the large pile of paper near the till. Oh well, he thought as a shudder
went through him, if things get really bad I suppose I could do some filing.
"Hey, Wills, wait up!" Buffy waved frantically, grinning as Willow shielded
her eyes from the sun and frowned across the street at her. Suddenly Willow
smiled and waved back, nudging Tara who responded with a half-hearted wave
at Buffy. Buffy dashed across the street, almost colliding with the two
witches in her haste.
"Okay," she said, catching her breath. "Sudden exertion is not a good
idea on such a hot day … so, where are you two going?"
"Oh," shrugged Willow, "we need some more spell ingredients."
"Great!" Enthused Buffy. "Giles will be really pleased to see you …
the "Magic Box" is seriously dead at the moment."
Tara and Willow exchanged glances.
"Ummm, Buffy," replied Willow, hesitantly. "We’re not going to Giles’
place."
Buffy gazed between the two, an incredulous expression on her face.
"You’re not serious?"
Willow looked uncomfortable. "Look, Buffy," she said softly, "it’s just
that …"
"No, Wills," interrupted Buffy. "Giles has gone out of his way to help
you over the years and it’s not asking much for you to stick by him now.
I mean, he gives you a good discount … I know he does."
"It’s not the money, Buffy," replied Willow. "Richard has more stuff
… he can get hold of the most incredible things …"
"So could Giles, if you only asked him!"
Willow’s eyes clouded. "Why the sudden concern, Buffy?" She asked, her
voice low and dangerous. "Giles has helped you over the years and yet you
abandon him when it suits you."
"This is different!"
"It is not!" Willow shouted. Tara frowned and touched her arm. Willow
nodded, took a deep breath and then continued, speaking quietly. "I’m sorry
if you don’t like it, Buffy, but we’re going to see Richard. Instead of
worrying about how we treat Giles, why don’t you look at yourself for once?
Haven’t you figured out yet why you’ve been so protective of him recently?"
Buffy narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Think about it," replied Willow. "See you around, Buffy."
Willow and Tara walked away and Buffy glanced down with a sigh. What
on earth was Willow talking about? Me? Protective of Giles? Well, she conceded,
maybe I am … a bit … but for a very good reason. Giles is feeling a bit
depressed, why shouldn’t I be protective? Buffy smiled, pleased with her
logic. She walked down the street towards the "Magic Box", a noticeable
spring in her step. As she walked along, she refused to listen to the inner
voice that was providing a completely different reason for her sudden protectiveness.