Chapter Eleven
Sneaking Out

Rushing into what had become her bedroom, Buffy pushed at her tears and threw herself onto her bed—sending all of today's shopping bags to the floor. She'd made a complete idiot of herself by hugging that Rupert man. He was not her Giles, despite the fact that he looked nearly identical to him. Exactly identical, was more like it! From his conservative tweed clothing and wire-rimmed glasses to the crease across his forhead and befuddled fatherly expression, he looked just like her Giles! Enough that, if she didn't know better, it would have been impossible to tell them apart.

Confused and frustrated, she started to cry in earnest—which only served to frustrate her more. In general, she wasn't the weepy type, but throw in time-travel and the absence of anything familiar, then throw in a man that is—but isn't—her Watcher, and she turned into ultra-weepy girl.

After several minutes of intense sobbing, she rolled to her back and hiccupped—then sniffled and wiped the wetness from her face.

"Pathetic much?" she mumbled to herself.

"Ahh. Don't tell me it's that bad," came a voice from the doorway.

Glancing over, Buffy glared at the youngest Giles. "It really is," she responded. "You have no idea."

Sitting up, Buffy assessed the other teenager. He was leaning against the doorframe and appeared older than she was, by just a bit—though it was hard to tell, because of the clothing he was wearing. He looked like a stuffy old man to her in that get-up—except cute.

Oh my God, this is Giles' father! she suddenly realized as she stared at him. Not cute! Not cute at all! Definitely not cute!

"I'm sorry about...up there," she said, giving a nod toward the ceiling. "I totally flipped out, huh? I so had to get gone."

Edmund smiled at her. "Mother said that you're American," he said, "but it's almost as if you're speaking a foreign language."

Buffy snorted. "Not the first time I've heard that here and...what you're speaking is offage to me too, buddy," she said.

Pushing off the door jam, he took just one step into the room—causing Buffy to slide off the opposite side of the bed to be further away from him. He was, after all, a stranger. A Giles, yes, but...still a stranger!

"Did Mother also tell you that I'm stubborn and rude?"

"She might have done. Though I'd say...cheeky."

Buffy eyed him. "I'm going to put your assessment on hold for the moment. Your mother...she's cringeworthy!"

Edmund chuckled at this. "Mother can be...intense."

"I'll say," Buffy said with a roll of her eyes.

"And my father?" he asked, wanting to know more about the girl's strong reaction to him.

Buffy blushed. "I'd rather not go there for now, thanks."

He shrugged. "All right. We can put that on hold as well."

"What else did dear mom tell you?" Buffy asked as she slowly moved around the bed. Her focus was definitely on Edna Giles at this point. The other two interested her—quite a bit, actually—but it was Edna who seemed to be the one who wanted the control. Buffy did not give up control easily—if ever!

He eyed her as she approached. Her eyes were still a little red from crying—making her irises exceedingly green—but all the embarrassment from the incident upstairs was gone. She looked confident now, as a Slayer should look.

"Mother said you're a Slayer," he said, as strongly as he could, though he felt a little nervous.

"Hmm. I didn't think she would."

"She wouldn't have brought me here if she hadn't told me," he countered.

Buffy nodded. "Fair point."

"I am in training," he said, knowing that she knew what that meant.

"I'm not surprised. It's the family business."

He frowned. "Not hugely so," he said. "I mean, mum and dad, yes. And me as well...someday. But that's it. The rest of the Giles are bakers."

"Hmph! More so than you think," she grumbled under her breath. "We stopped at the bakery today...Me and Vin and Soph."

Edmund nodded. "We were informed. Any time Auntie Vin or Auntie Sophie visit one of the shops, whoever is there let's us know."

"Creepy much?" she asked, grimacing. "Like, how is that newsworthy?"

He shrugged. "Mum and dad just want to know?"

"Pfft! You mean they just want to meddle?"

Edmund frowned. My aunties are a bit...eccentric. Mum finds that worrying."

Buffy snorted. "Like hell she does! What she wants to do is take me out of here and away from them. Which, by the way, is not happenin'!"

Edmund shook his head. "You're a Slayer. You need a Watcher."

Buffy shook her head. "I have a Watcher!" she snapped.

"Where is he?" he asked—then added, "Or she?"

Buffy frowned. "Not here," she said quietly, her eyes burning again. When she realized she might actually start crying again, she turned away from the boy. No more tears! she ordered herself.

Edmund frowned at Buffy's back. There was so much emotion in the girl that he had no clue how to handle. He'd been told that the Slayer was a fierce soldier, but he hadn't factored in that she was also just a girl.

"I apologize if I've upset you, Buffy," he said. "I truly did not intend to."

"It's not...you," Buffy said, turning back to face him. "You're not helping, but...I'm not upset because of you or anything you've said."

"Well, that's good." He paused. "Would you like to tell me what is upsetting you?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not really."

They just stared at each other—then Buffy sighed and said, "I need to get out of here."

Edmund looked confused. "I thought you said you weren't leaving."

Reaching up, Buffy began to unbutton her blouse. "Turn around."

Edmund's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to change. Turn around," she repeated.

Edmund blinked, but turned his back on her. "This is... highly inappropriate, Buffy."

"Well, unless you're going to march back upstairs and not mention that I'm going out, then..." She stopped talking and struggled herself out of her top.

"Going out? You can't just go out at night, in Soho, by yourself. It's dangerous out there, Buffy."

Buffy scoffed. "I'm the Slayer, remember?" she said, rummaging through the bag she knew contained a top that was more conducive to slayage and put it on. It was white and button up as well, but short-sleeved and relatively attractive as 40s garb went. Not that attractive mattered in her slaying world.

Edmund huffed. "And you should have your Watcher with you."

"I go out sans Watcher regularly," she informed him. "Gi...man trusts me." She nodded to herself, then looked up at Edmund. "Keep your back turned," she said as she slipped out of her skirt. "Besides, my Watcher's not here, so..."

"I wouldn't dream of looking," Edmund grumbled, insulted that she'd even suggest such a thing. "I still think you shouldn't go out."

Buffy chuckled at his tone as she pulled on some knee-length pants. "Jeez, these look silly!" She shook her head and removed the pants. They looked like old-time knickerbockers! Maybe next time she told herself as she reached into one of her bags and pulled out a pair of longer pants with slightly flared legs. Shrugging, she put them on and nodded.

"What do you think?" she asked the boy in her room.

"Is it safe to look now?" he asked reluctantly.

"Obviously," was her only response.

Turning, he looked her up and down. "I think you look...odd? Is that the fashion in America?"

Buffy laughed. "Nope!" she said, popping the p. "Not at all. God, I'd kill for a t-shirt, some jeans, and comfy pair of sneakers. But no, I've just got all this nonsense." She gestured about.

Then he noticed the shopping bags and clothing scattered on the floor and all over the bed. "What's all this?" he gestured. "It looks like you've robbed a clothing store."

"We sort of did...in the sense that we brought a lot home. I can assure you that nothing was stolen," she said as she sat down to put on her shoes. They weren't pretty, but they'd have to work...as there wasn't much else available. Maybe Vin or Sophie could magic her up a better pair later. "Your aunts took me shopping. They are...very generous."

"Yes, they are," he agreed, remembering the gifts they'd given him in the past while watching Buffy. She tied up her shoes and got to her feet, then went over to her bedside table, where she picked up a necklace that had a very large silver cross hanging from it and put it on. After that she retrieved a stake from under her pillow and stuffed it in her belt, then threw on a black leather jacket.

"All set," she said.

"That's it?" he questioned, his brow creasing deeply. "That's all the protection you're going to take out with you?"

Buffy shrugged. "Unless you have a crossbow you can lend me?" she asked hopefully.

Edmund shook his head. "No. Sorry."

"Well then, this'll have to do!" She gave him one last look, then started for the door—and the ladder that would lead her up and out onto D'arblay Street.

"Wait!" he called out when he realized she was just going to... go. "You're not even planning to tell them?"

Stopping, Buffy looked back at him. "No, I wasn't. They'll figure it out when they discover me gone. Or...I know, you can tell them," she quipped with a grin.

Edmund's eyes widened as he watched her flip off the light, then turn and go out the door. For a second, he stood in the almost darkness, staring after her, his gaze catching her as she bounced past the first window. Frowning, he drew the curtain closed, then he started after her.

Buffy was already high above him, pushing open the grate, when he reached the ladder.

"Buffy!" he hissed up at her.

"What?!" she hissed back, her silhouette reappearing.

Starting to climb the ladder, he said, "You cannot go alone."

Knowing the adults were just inside, Buffy glanced at the windows in front—they were only a couple feet in front of her—then looked at the boy who was coming up the ladder. "Shhh! Do you want your dear old mom to hear you?"

Edmund didn't bother to respond as he stepped out onto the pavement, but watched her close first the grate and then gate—taking care to do it silently—then turn down the street. They got about a block before he spoke.

"Mother will murder me for this."

Buffy just laughed. "My mom is in denial or something. She never notices my absences."

"Mine will notice," he said grimly—but followed her anyway. "So where are you dragging me off to?"

Buffy shook her head. "There's no draggage here. Come or don't. I don't care, Edmund."

"You're not giving me much of a choice," he argued.

"You have plenty choice. Go back if you want. I'm all good out here alone. Besides, you don't even have a weapon," she said. "Just go back."

He grinned at this. "Of course I've weapons," he said, opening the left-hand side of his coat to reveal a short but pointy wooden stake tucked into a loop. When she smiled, he opened the right side to show he had a second one. "Plus, I have this," he said, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling out a intricately carved cross.

Buffy's eyes widened. "Nice!"

"Mother says to always be prepared."

"Hmph! Well then, let's go!"

~oOo~

What Buffy didn't know was that Tom had sneaked out of Wools and made his way up to Soho. He was almost at the sisters' house on D'Arblay Street—he'd planned to throw rocks at her window to get back at her—when Buffy and a boy he didn't know popped up onto the street from below.

Frowning, Tom slid into the shadows of the buildings and watched, confused by what he saw. Buffy was wearing another silly looking outfit, some sort of trousers that made her look more like a boy and a dark jacket. The boy, on the other hand, was dressed much nicer than she was, making Tom wonder if what he was seeing was a date.

Buffy is mine! he thought angrily. Who is this boy and why is Buffy with him?! He wanted to rush over there and demand answers! He also wanted to storm off back to Wools and brood over this. He managed to resist both, however, because he needed to see what they were up to.

When the two started away, Tom followed them. He couldn't get close enough to hear their conversation—he'd have been caught for sure if he did—but it sounded like they were bickering. That, at least, made him smirk.

After about twenty minutes of walking, Tom realized that they were on their way to Hyde Park.

"She's hunting," he hissed under his breath—then glanced around to make sure no one had overheard him. It was dark now and no one was about.

Once they'd entered the park, it was harder to stay out of sight, so Tom had to drop back—making it difficult to see them and impossible to hear anything. Twice he thought he'd been caught, but they never turned in his direction.

And then sudden movement between them had him drawing his wand and hiding behind a tree. He wouldn't use his wand unless he must, of course! He couldn't afford the Ministry's censure.

~oOo~

They'd been strolling through the park when Buffy turned her head, looked up at Edmund, and said, "Okay. So. Don't change positions or anything, but—"

"But what?" Edmund asks, looking alarmed.

"I'm getting to that. Relax, would you!"

"How can I relax when I know you're about to tell me something bad?"

Buffy chuckled, then leaned in close. "I just don't want you to turn around and give anything away," she said quietly. "We're being followed...by more than one someone. Or something. I'm not sure."

Edmund's eyes rounded. "You're not sure? Shouldn't you be sure?"

She shrugged. "Could be anything. Could be your mother."

"Scary," he said.

"Right?!"

"All right," he said, trying to focus.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked her new friend.

He shrugged. "I have had very little in the way of field training," he admitted.

She smiled. "That's okay. I've had loads."

For a moment, she just stood there staring at him, but recognized his look immediately. "It's standing behind me, isn't it?"

He gave her a clipped nod. "About thirty feet, directly behind."

Buffy waited a few seconds, then turned around. "Hi!" she chirped cheerfully. "You interested in a copy of The Watchtower?" She paused. "It's a lovely illustrated magazine dedicated to your soul-saving pleasure. Oh! But you don't have one of those, do you?"

The vampire stared at her for a moment, then growled and rushed her.

Edmund stepped aside as a fight ensued, amazed by the girl battling the creature. Clearly drawing it out, as if she enjoyed the fight, she punched the vampire in the face and kneed him in the groin, then flipped him over onto his back.

Roaring with fury, the vampire rolled over and got to its feet, then came at Buffy again. Another punch found him on the ground once more.

"You guys never learn, do you?" she asked when it got up and advanced on her again. This time it managed to get a hit in, knocking Buffy down. Shaking off the blow, she jumped to her feet and threw another punch, sending the vampire sliding across the damp grass—then she noticed that someone else had creeped up on them.

"Buffy?" came Edmund's nervous voice. "There's another one."

Buffy noticed that he'd pulled out his stake and appeared ready to fight. It had taken him a bit to get into it, but he was ready now. Sometimes it took real fear in order to be ready. It was a good first encounter.

"Naw. That one's...not one," she corrected her new friend. "Hi, Tom!"

Buffy grinned at her friend and gave a little friendly wave, then turned her attention back to the vampire. As it got up off the grass and came for her, she sighed and focused—and kicked him in the chest. The blow sent him flying toward a tree, where he was impaled upon a dead branch and exploded into a cloud of ash.

"That set zero world speed records for closure! I am not impressed," she grumbled.