I do not own Buffy: the Vampire Slayer or Leverage

Author's Note: I was watching Leverage and finished Buffy around the same time and I wanted to write about both. This is the result. (Was going to be a full-blown story with arcs and everything when I realized I would never finish that).

Nate may not have seen a lot of libraries in his time, yet he guessed that the one he stood in now surpassed most any in existence.

Dust and neglect permeated the air of the Watcher Library, specks and particles floating visible on the golden rays of the sun peeking out from between blinder panels and illuminating foreign words on brown and wrinkled paper that sat out on desks and tables, some scattered on the floor. Shelves spanned every wall, stretching up to at least, ten, twenty feet in the air, all filled to the brim with books.

Halls and extensions stretched out in every direction, some more intact than others, all with the exact same walls and shelves and more books than Nate had ever imagined in his life. Surely even Washington couldn't compare to the sheer immensity of the texts available. If Nate were to guess, he suspected this was about as close to Alexandria as the world would get in a long time.

How the organization managed to keep it hidden was beyond him.

The only other soul in the building, a child standing at only three to four feet, broke the silence. "I spent so much time here," the child said, looking up when he spoke, instead keeping his bespectacled look fixed on the view before them. "I can't believe it's still standing after that explosion."

Nate nodded. "Looks like quite a school."

"That's not what I thought at first," the child said. Nate waited for him to elaborate. The child cast a look between Nate and the shelves, sighing. "Growing up as a Watcher, a mystic, all I could see was restrictions and rules and books that only I would read."

"And now?" Nate asked.

"Anything you could ever want to know about the supernatural is in here. Any questions you ever had, all you need is an appendix. In so many ways, nothing has changed." The child sighed. "But it's a two-edged blade, having all this knowledge, all this power readily available to any aspiring young man, it can lead to... problems."

Silence fell. Nate guessed bad memories were at work.

"If I may ask," the child continued, cutting off that line of thought. "How did you know I would be here?"

"Your team," Nate said simply. "They're worried about you."

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine. Just… suffering a bit of an existential crisis, I guess. I apologize, this must be strange. You shouldn't have had to come here."

Nate shrugged. "Didn't have to."

"Then why come?"

"Your friends are worried."

The child finally broke his gaze from the array of titles spanning through the great hall and turned to look at Nate. "Very well. Couldn't exactly save any worlds hiding in here, could I?" He straightened, making a show of dusting nothing from his small, tweed jacket.

"So," Nate said, "What are we going to call you?"

"I..." the child hesitated. "I'm used to Giles. But, uh, whatever makes you least uncomfortable. I assume Faith has her own way back?"

"She told me she has it covered."

"Do you know what you're going to do about my schooling, or my legal guardians? And then there's my car and house and-"

"Already done. Official classes would be wasted on you, so we're officially enrolling you in home schooling. And we've already fixed the system so that the skip in your generation has been dealt with."

Giles paused. "... How?"

"We inserted a couple of figures in your line. Officially, you're Rupert Giles III and none of your parents or grandparents are currently living. You – or your grandfather Rupert Giles I – was killed in an accident just recently and, being friends of your father, we've taken you in as our adoptive child."

"And what do Buffy and her friends know?"

"We gave them some of the truth. Anything you want to change about that? Do you want to talk to them in person?"

"No, no," Giles said with a shake of his head. "That's fine. The cleaner the cut, the better."

"Good. Shall we go then? Sophie's waiting."

"Who's Sophie?"