A Birthday Gift for Giles
Chapter 2
"Hello?"
Giles' face fell, but he quickly readjusted his expression so she wouldn't see. He hadn't thought it was possible to feel worse than he already did.
"Um, yes, hello, she's right here." He placed the receiver on his desk and walked toward the hallway. "Riley," was all he said, believing it was sufficient.
Buffy wasn't any more pleased that Giles, but she didn't show it either. She looked at Giles, who had his eyes fixed on a point down the hall, and mumbled, "Oh...I told him I'd be here and to call when he was free, so we could do something."
"Hello?" she said with a tentative tone that didn't fit since she knew who it was and what he wanted.
Giles continued walking down the hallway toward the bathroom, anyplace to get out of hearing range. He didn't want to listen to her talk to the current man in her life.
"Oh.sure. I suppose so. I'm kind of in the middle of something though.No, everything's okay, just talking to Giles."
As much as Giles didn't want to, he could hear.
Buffy listened for another moment and said, "Okay, I'll see you then," and hung up.
Giles turned and retraced his steps until he was again in the living room.
"You don't have to stay, Buffy. Clearly you have plans. Go, have fun with your friends. I suspect you and I have probably hit our own limit of fun for the day, anyway."
"But Giles, I want to..."
"Riley's waiting, isn't he?"
She gave him a look that indicated she was unsure of what to do next. He decided to help her and walked to the front door, opened it and waited.
She got the message, although her mind was racing trying to find some reason to stay.
She exited the door saying she'd talk to him later. He just nodded.
He waited a few minutes to be sure she was out of hearing range before he let loose a curse that had been building inside. Then, for good measure, he kicked his desk chair sending it flying into the stools by the counter.
Feeling frustrated and defeated, he pulled the bottle of Scotch down from the bookshelves and found his way into the kitchen for a glass, but he thought better of it before he poured out his solace. "No, not this again." He put it away and began searching for another outlet.
After a quick search through his record collection he stopped at his favorite Traffic LP, put it on the turntable and turned it up, loud.
Waiting for the music to soothe him, he paced, stopping at every window on the ground floor where he would stand a moment, looking out at nothing, lost in thought.
'What does she see in him? Christ, she has the worst tastes in men. First Angel and now this toy soldier. Doesn't she see he's just overcompensation for Angel and a dull one at that? One of Maggie Walsh's drones. How did Anya describe him once?' '.A corn fed Iowa farm boy.' He laughed out loud but it faded quickly as he remembered the rest of her comment 'He may not be particularly exciting but he sure is built.'
Leaning against the wall, head tilted back with his eyes toward heaven, he tried to let go of his anger, but his mind wouldn't budge. He thought back on their years together. The many trials, successes, mistakes, close calls, missed chances, and the pain. He loved her as he had loved no other. He found it ironic that a Watcher should come to love his Slayer like this. He wished in some ways that he did love her as a daughter, but it had never been like that. He couldn't pinpoint when it happened but he knew it was real. She didn't have to love him the same way; he never expected that. As long as they could continue their work, he'd be content, but this year things had changed. He felt bloody useless. No job and now his Slayer didn't need him. He'd been banished to the back of the closet, brought out only in times of dire trouble and, even then, rarely. Olivia had been a diversion, a mistake. He'd watched himself become sullen and sulky. Sarcasm was his major means of communication and he drank too much. Getting pissed in a bar with Ethan was blatant evidence of that. He didn't know how much longer he could live with these circumstances. It might be better for both of them if he left. She could manage with Willow and Xander assisting her, as they always had, and now she also had Riley and the Initiative. It was time to take control of his life again.
Chapter 2
"Hello?"
Giles' face fell, but he quickly readjusted his expression so she wouldn't see. He hadn't thought it was possible to feel worse than he already did.
"Um, yes, hello, she's right here." He placed the receiver on his desk and walked toward the hallway. "Riley," was all he said, believing it was sufficient.
Buffy wasn't any more pleased that Giles, but she didn't show it either. She looked at Giles, who had his eyes fixed on a point down the hall, and mumbled, "Oh...I told him I'd be here and to call when he was free, so we could do something."
"Hello?" she said with a tentative tone that didn't fit since she knew who it was and what he wanted.
Giles continued walking down the hallway toward the bathroom, anyplace to get out of hearing range. He didn't want to listen to her talk to the current man in her life.
"Oh.sure. I suppose so. I'm kind of in the middle of something though.No, everything's okay, just talking to Giles."
As much as Giles didn't want to, he could hear.
Buffy listened for another moment and said, "Okay, I'll see you then," and hung up.
Giles turned and retraced his steps until he was again in the living room.
"You don't have to stay, Buffy. Clearly you have plans. Go, have fun with your friends. I suspect you and I have probably hit our own limit of fun for the day, anyway."
"But Giles, I want to..."
"Riley's waiting, isn't he?"
She gave him a look that indicated she was unsure of what to do next. He decided to help her and walked to the front door, opened it and waited.
She got the message, although her mind was racing trying to find some reason to stay.
She exited the door saying she'd talk to him later. He just nodded.
He waited a few minutes to be sure she was out of hearing range before he let loose a curse that had been building inside. Then, for good measure, he kicked his desk chair sending it flying into the stools by the counter.
Feeling frustrated and defeated, he pulled the bottle of Scotch down from the bookshelves and found his way into the kitchen for a glass, but he thought better of it before he poured out his solace. "No, not this again." He put it away and began searching for another outlet.
After a quick search through his record collection he stopped at his favorite Traffic LP, put it on the turntable and turned it up, loud.
Waiting for the music to soothe him, he paced, stopping at every window on the ground floor where he would stand a moment, looking out at nothing, lost in thought.
'What does she see in him? Christ, she has the worst tastes in men. First Angel and now this toy soldier. Doesn't she see he's just overcompensation for Angel and a dull one at that? One of Maggie Walsh's drones. How did Anya describe him once?' '.A corn fed Iowa farm boy.' He laughed out loud but it faded quickly as he remembered the rest of her comment 'He may not be particularly exciting but he sure is built.'
Leaning against the wall, head tilted back with his eyes toward heaven, he tried to let go of his anger, but his mind wouldn't budge. He thought back on their years together. The many trials, successes, mistakes, close calls, missed chances, and the pain. He loved her as he had loved no other. He found it ironic that a Watcher should come to love his Slayer like this. He wished in some ways that he did love her as a daughter, but it had never been like that. He couldn't pinpoint when it happened but he knew it was real. She didn't have to love him the same way; he never expected that. As long as they could continue their work, he'd be content, but this year things had changed. He felt bloody useless. No job and now his Slayer didn't need him. He'd been banished to the back of the closet, brought out only in times of dire trouble and, even then, rarely. Olivia had been a diversion, a mistake. He'd watched himself become sullen and sulky. Sarcasm was his major means of communication and he drank too much. Getting pissed in a bar with Ethan was blatant evidence of that. He didn't know how much longer he could live with these circumstances. It might be better for both of them if he left. She could manage with Willow and Xander assisting her, as they always had, and now she also had Riley and the Initiative. It was time to take control of his life again.