ACOUSTIC
"Did you hear that?"
Giles looked up from his book, his glass having slid almost entirely down the length of his nose. He stared at her, then, over their upper rims, his light eyes focusing on his Slayer. She had turned in her chair, though she had been sitting in it backwards so now that her attention was elsewhere she was actually sitting the right way in the chair. She only seemed to have proper manners when she was not paying attention to herself.
Still, he knew better than to immediately shrug off her instincts, and she did not often try this tactic as a method to distract him. Well, not often this week, anyway. He looked up from his research, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose and let his vision readjust from the close and clearness of reading to the blurriness of everything else. There was nothing of note in the library, though. Nothing stirring, and no noises outside their own breathing.
He fixed her a look that she endeavored to ignore.
"I know I heard something, Giles. It was like... music. I think someone might be here." Buffy got to her feet, pushing the chair across the floor with a terrible screech that shattered the peaceful quiet that had settled over them. Buffy did whatever she could to get out of researching, but he got the feeling that this time she wasn't just fabricating some excuse to go running off into the hall and never return.
"The school is closed, I doubt there is anyone still on campus..." they were, but they always were. They broke the rules every day, because this was their meeting place. He was not sure why it seemed so impossible to believe that someone else, especially someone Buffy's age, was more than capable of it, as well.
They both listened for a while, but whatever sound she had heard did not come again. Giles returned to his books and eventually even Buffy, with a profound and pained sigh, flopped back into her chair and picked up the book she had not been reading.
It was Giles' turn to hear the music this time. A soft sound, the strings of a guitar being strummed with care and precision. There was purpose, strength, in the cords. His head snapped up and he strained to hear it. There was a familiarity to it, something striking a cord, without irony, in his own heart and mind. His memories stirred and he could almost feel his pulse quicken, though the beating of his heart made it difficult to hear the already airy melody.
When it faded again, he found himself blinking, baffled, and he looked at Buffy in wonder to find her staring at him like someone who had just been vindicated.
"Ah, yes. I heard it. Let's go see what it is then, shall we?"
He put his book down, and she bounced toward the door while he followed close behind. She was nimble and battle ready, excited and on her toes because of it. She acted like he'd had her chained to the desk for hours, though really, they had only been researching for less than one. As they moved into the hall the music began again, stronger now, flowing down the hall toward the music room. The most Giles heard it, the more he knew what it was.
"This song..."
"It's pretty. It sounds like a guitar, doesn't it? Do you think someone is here playing when they shouldn't be? Would be nice for it not to be something big, slimy or bitey for once," Buffy shook her head, "definitely don't need slime tonight."
"I know this song," Giles continued, as if not hearing her. She paused, watching him, but he did not even break his stride until he was at the door of the music room, peering in. It was pitch dark in there, and the small window revealed nothing.
"You do? I've never heard it." Buffy, behind him, spoke softly. Whoever was inside would be spooked by their sudden arrival, and yet she didn't want to give their position away. Slayer instinct, maybe.
Giles nodded, leaning on the door for a moment, hand resting on the doorknob. The music was louder now, steady, just beyond the door and filtering out to them slowly. He closed his eyes, taking a slow breath as the music reached into his past, bringing forward his memories whether he wanted to see them or not. He shook his head very slowly, taking a deep breath and drawing himself from his reverie.
"I wrote it," he said at last, staring forward into the dark room while Buffy took that idea in. He did not look back at her, turning the doorknob and finding it unlocked. It gave way, and the door swung open slowly, darkness reaching out from the room beyond, spilling into the hallway even as Giles stepped into it.
The guitar played on.