The Things We Never Did

The Things We Never Did...Part Two

A/n: Okay, there's something very important that I probably should have mentioned in the first part. This whole thing is a short series of alternative universe fics. As in, what could have been if certain things had been different. And in this case, it's 'what life could be like if Giles and Buffy's mum had both grown up in Sunnydale.' Which explains why some character backgrounds have changed somewhat. I know it sounds strange, but do you think you could just give it a chance and take it for what it is? That being a bit of light hearted fun and a way for me to vent some steam? It would be much appreciated if you did!

It was the end of a long and drawn out school day, and all Buffy Summers wanted to do was have a long bath. Unfortunately, being a vampire slayer didn't leave alot of lee-way for relaxing, so she'd probably be back out on the streets by six...but still, a mug of hot chocolate and a quick sprawl infront of the T. V. wouldn't hurt...

Walking into the kitchen, she rummaged through the cupboards for a few minutes, until she realised there was no chocolate powder. With an annoyed sigh, she took the stairs two at a time and headed for the bathroom. She poked her head around her mother's door, but the minute she did so, a half squeal came from inside, and her mum jumped up, trying to conceal something under the bed clothes.

"Buffy! You frightened me!" Joyce Summers walked forwards shakily. "What do you want?"

"Well, uh, we're out of chocolate powder...what're you doing sat here in the dark anyway?"

"It's not dark...I was just...resting. No chocolate powder did you say? I'll pop down to the shops and get some..."

"Oh you don't have to, it's not important-"

"I needed to go anyway, don't be silly. Now come on, out with you." Buffy found herself being shooed from her mothers doorway, and as Joyce stepped out onto the landing and pulled the door shut behind her, Buffy was sure she saw a look of relief on her mother's face.

But the next minute it was gone, and so, shrugging it off, she wandered down to the bathroom and flicked the bath taps on. Downstairs, she could hear her mum rummaging around, and, after a few minutes, she heard the distinct shutting of the door as her mother left for the shops.

The minute she heard the key turn in the lock, she turned the bath taps off, and walked down the corridor to her mum's bedroom. She knew she shouldn't be nosing around, but she was curious to know what was so secret her mum had to hide it from her.

She flicked on the light switch, and pulled the covers from the bed. Sat on the matress, still open at one page, was a small, blue, cloth bound book. Sitting down and leaning against the headboard, she propped the book on her knees, and started to read.

Dear Diary,it said, in her mother's unmistakable handwriting.

I've been thinking about him alot lately. Buffy had been on the verge of putting the book down upon realising she had just found her mothers diary, but it couldn't hurt just to take a quick look could it? I'd stopped thinking about him quite so much recently, but right now I can't get him out of my head. Interesting, Buffy thought. It seemed that her mother had a fancy man...I love him so much that I ache inside. I haven't missed him this much since we broke up. An ex-boyfriend? But who? I got the photo out again last night. I don't know why I keep the damn thing, I see him practically all the time. All the time? Then it was someone close by...but who? I know it's stupid of me, but it's like I need that photograph to remember. To remember everything we had. How much we loved each other. But I have Buffy for that don't I? Now Buffy was thoroughly confused. I was thinking dangerous thoughts again last night diary. I miss him so much. I'm scared I might do something stupid and make a fool of myself. I've decided to try and stay away from him as much as possible diary, but I don't have to be around him anymore. As she's grown up, Buffy looks so much like him it's uncanny. It's a wonder she doesn't see it. But then, maybe I'm just looking. 'I look like him?' Buffy frowned. That just didn't make any sense. It sounded like her mum was talking about, about her dad....but she didn't see her dad all the time, right? Last night, it was awful. I couldn't stop thinking about when we broke up, I know it was years ago, but I sware diary, when he went away he took part of me with him. Okay, well, whoever her mum was talking about, it certainly sounded like they'd screwed her over...I can hear her downstairs now diary. In the kitchen. I love her so much, I don't think I'd be able to bear it if she found out. I know she'd be angry with me for not telling her the truth, but I only ever wanted to protect her diary. I did what I thought was best. And I stick by that decision. Just sometimes, sometimes diary, I wish that Rupert was here too. And that we were together, like a family. I know it's impossible now but

And that was where the entry left off. That must have been where Buffy walked in and she'd had to stuff the diary under her bed clothes. Whilst reading the page, a sinking feeling had started to come over Buffy, and now she could feel a fear inside her that she didn't even feel while out slaying. Rupert? She only knew one person with the name Rupert. And it wasn't exactly a common name. But if, if her mothers diary meant what she assumed it to, then that would mean...

In one movement, Buffy was on her knees by her mothers dresser, pulling the drawers out one by one, searching for the photograph her mother had talked about. There was a whole pack of herself as a child in the second drawer, but no pictures of men. As she pulled the last drawer out frantically, she tipped it upside down and watched the things spill out. A hairbrush, a battered camera, a small sewing box, a piece of red cloth-and a photgraph.

Hands shaking, she picked it up, and turned it over slowly. The picture was old and creased at the edges, and the colour looked as if it had been fading for a long time. But the person in the picture was unmistakable. It was Giles.

For a long time she sat, just staring at the photograph in her hands. It had obviously been taken a very long time ago, Giles looked nothing more than eighteen or nineteen...but it was definately Giles.

She let the photo drop to the floor, as she pulled herself back up onto the bed slowly. Her head was spinning and words from her mothers diary were flying around her head. "She looks so much like him it's uncanny..." "I haven't missed him this much since we broke up" "...when he went away he took part of me with him..." "I know she'd be angry with me for lying to her..." "Sometimes., sometimes diary I wish that Rupert was here. And we were a family."

"'She knew what it meant. Knew what it had to mean. But, how? Giles....her father? It seemed laughable. Giles and her mum? But that would mean that her dad wasn't her dad...and that it was really Giles that had screwed her mum over.

Suddenly, she felt a surge of white hot anger. Giles. Her dad. Neither of them had ever thought to tell her. What was it her mum had written? That she thought it was the best decision and she stuck by it? Then what sort of monster was Giles, to make her mum feel it best she not know?

Every time they had fought side by side, all the time they had spent together in that goddamn library. He had known. And he had never even "'hinted"' at it. She felt her blood starting to boil. Without warning, she leapt to her feet and ran down the stairs to the front door. She unlocked and locked it with trembling hands, and, realising that her mum had taken the car, started to run in the direction of Giles's home.

As she ran, she tried not to think. So was so angry, she didn't have a clue what she was going to do or say. She just needed to confront Giles, have it out with him, scream and shout, and get all the slowly penting up anger off her chest. And more than anything, she wanted to hurt him. Make him pay for what he had done to her mother. He deserved it.

Sat in his living room, a thick and dusty book on his lap, Rupert Giles had no way of knowing just what he was letting into his house when he heard a knock at the door. He closed the book and sat it on the floor, then walked to unlock the door. The key had barely turned, when Buffy pushed her way into his hallway. She looked livid. He saw a hatred in her eyes that he had never seen before. It seemed that the young slayer was upset...

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice shaking with anger.

"Tell you what? Buffy, am I missing something here?"

"I know what you did to my mum!" she shrieked in a voice that made him want to cover his ears. But the meaning of what she had just said hit him hard, and he felt a sudden urge to sit down.

"She, she told you about us?" he whispered.

"I read it in her diary," she growled in a voice so full of anger he started to worry.

"I, I never thought it was something you needed to be aware of." He stuttered. Apparently, this wasn't what she wanted to hear, as she lunged forward suddenly and pushed him so hard he stumbled backwards and tripped over the bottom step of the stairwell.

"Now Buffy, be reasonable!" He pleaded, holding his hands infront of him as if for defence.

"Reasonable?" she asked in an outraged voice. "How'd you expect me to be reasonable? Nineteen years Giles! How could you! I trusted you! And you let me live a lie!" A confused look crossed over the man's face.

"Buffy, am I missing something here?" But as she started to walk towards him, a look of sheer loathing plastered to her face, he forgot speech and bolted towards the kitchen.

Meanwhile, less than a mile away, Joyce Summers had just pulled her car into the driveway of her home. Unlocking the front door, she called:

"Buffy! I brought some chocolate powder!" She walked through to the kitchen and started to unpack. "Buffy? Sweetie where are you?" When no reply came, her body stiffened suddenly. "Buffy?" Dropping the bags she was carrying, she ran towards and up the stairs to the first floor.

She saw that the door to her bedroom was open. A feeling of dread fell over her body as she walked slowly through the door. The covers were off her bed, her diary was lying on the floor, and it looked as though someone had pulled every drawer out of her dresser looking for something. And as her eyes swept the floor, she knew what. Sinking to her knees, she took the old photograph of Giles into her arms and held it to her body. A hot tear fell down her cheek, as she realised that her daughter must know what she had tried so hard to keep from her all of her life. But where was she? Letting the photograph of Giles fall from her arms, her heart dropped a little further. Giles. That must be where Buffy had gone...But, with all the conclusions that Buffy must have leapt to, and Giles without a clue...She jumped to her feet and ran back down and out to her car.

Glancing in the mirror every few seconds to check she wasn't being followed by anyone likely to pull her over for speeding, Joyce pushed her foot to the acceleration pedal and prayed she would be able to stop her headstrong daughter from doing anything stupid.

Pulling to a stop outside Giles's house, she jumped from the car, and ran to the front of the house, to find the door unlocked. Running into the house, she could hear her daughter screaming...following her cries of "How could you?" she found Buffy throwing herself heavily at a locked door in an attempt to open it.

"Buffy!" she cried. "Darling, what're you doing?"

"Mum?" Buffy whirled around, shocked. "How did you know I was here?"

"You're not the only one that can jump to conclusions," she smiled weakly. "Come on, calm down."

"Calm down? After finding out this? Why didn't you tell me?" Joyce looked to the floor and shook her head sadly.

"I know I should have done Buffy...but it was so hard! I always meant to tell you some day, but when all this slaying buisness started and you were spending every spare moment with him...I just couldn't!" She swallowed hard, and blinked rapidly. "Please darling, please, try and forgive me."

Buffy stood and stared. Stared as her mum's shoulders started to shake. Stared as her head bowed down and tears coarsed down her cheeks. And then she moved forward. She wrapped her arms tightly around her mothers shoulders, and whispered hoarsely:

"It's not your fault. I don't blame you. It's "'him "'I'm mad at."

"But Buffy, it's not his fault-"

"Not his fault? How is this not his fault?"

"Darling, please, just calm down!" Removing her daughters arms from her shoulders, she walked slowly to the locked door. She tapped on it lightly, and called: "Rupert? Rupert, it's okay, you can open the door now."

The sound of several locks being prised open could be heard, and, gingerly, Giles entered the room. He stared blankly at Joyce for several moments, before he asked:

"Will somebody please explain to me what's going on?" Before Buffy could start to scream again, Joyce looked him straight in the eyes, and whispered:

"She's yours Rupert. Buffy's yours."