Chapter Three

Olivia

21 December.

Rupert sat in his car outside Mitching's tiny station and listened to the rain drumming on on the roof. Typically dreadful December weather. He watched the water run down the windscreen as he waited for Olivia's train to arrive.

The last time he had seen her she'd been saying goodbye and hurrying for the cab, eager to get away from Sunnydale and it's frightful habits. He'd entertained such high hopes for a happy few days with her, and The Gentlemen had ruined it all with their thievery. They'd stolen her voice and her peace; taken away her comfortable belief in the natural order of how things must be and left her spinning helplessly in the uncaring light of how things really are.

Although Rupert had talked to her in the past about the supernatural and the paranormal, she'd not believed him. Sunnydale had given her an uncomfortable awakening. She'd not been prepared for his peculiar lifestyle; for the things that he, by default, spent his time fighting. They'd talked about it later, and he had told her everything: Buffy, the Watcher's Council, himself; he'd held nothing back. This time, of course, Olivia had believed him; after the things she had seen she would have been a fool not to. Then she'd kissed him and told him she loved him...and promised never to come to Sunnydale again.

Rupert was determined that this time she would not be upset or dismayed in any way. She would not even feel a draught. His house was ready, in truly record time, and he'd spent the last two days putting barrier spells around it. The gargoyle by the chimney had a wide mouth so stuffed with protective charms that he'd had to cement them in place to prevent them falling out. Nothing. Was going. To go wrong. This time.

Taking him by surprise, Olivia appeared at the top of the station steps struggling with a large suitcase. Hunched against the rain with a broken umbrella flapping uselessly from her hand, she stopped and looked around for his car.

Rupert swore. He hadn't even noticed the train pulling in and he'd wanted to meet her on the platform. Hurriedly, he got out of the car and met her at the bottom of the steps. The rain pelted them as he pulled her into a hug, and she laughed. "You'll get soaked!"

"Never mind!" He kissed her hard. "God, it's good to see you!"

They ran for the car.

*

Rupert woke early and saw rain hitting the leaded glass of his bedroom window. He turned over carefully and watched Olivia sleeping. Her hair was spread on the pillow and he saw how it shone even in the dull light of the cloudy morning. She seemed smaller, somehow. She'd lost weight since he'd seen her last, he could see it in her face.

He lay propped up on one elbow, remembering the previous evening with a smile. He'd shown her around his lovely house and she had adored it, laughing loudly when he told her how the Council had paid for everything. She'd gaped at his over-the-top Christmas decorations and the enormous tree ablaze with lights in the lounge. They'd talked for a long time after dinner and eventually he'd lead her upstairs to make love in his enormous bed. Afterwards, she'd held onto him tightly and he'd fallen into the best sleep he'd had in a long time.

A sudden darkening of the room made him look at the window again. Blacker clouds had come up and he heard a rumble of thunder. Olivia stirred and opened her eyes.

"Breakfast," Rupert stated.

Olivia stretched. "Make it a big one and I might decide to stay."

"Eggs, tomatos, sausage - "

"Stop. Go now. Feed your guest."

Rupert grinned and left the bed. "I have to buy some things from town sometime today, if this bloody rain lets up." He headed for the en-suite bathroom.

"Rupert Giles, afraid of rain?"

"Well, I thought we could have lunch. There's a nice little restaurant I've found."

"Okay. As long as we don't have to walk far - I'm not as fit as I used to be." Olivia joined him in the bathroom.

"You seemed fit enough last night."

"I was lying down and you did most of the work."

Rupert grinned. "It's just to the supermarket. You know, last minute bits. And I want to get something for you." Olivia cocked an eyebrow at him and he added defensively: "I have a present for you already. I just want to get something additional. Anything you want?"

"I'll have to think."

"How about perfume? Do you still wear your old favourite?"

"Yes, I've run out. Good idea - I'll wear it Christmas night, remind you of all the times we've been together."

"Right then. A large bottle of, um, Chanel - "

"No."

"Yves St. - "

"If you think I'm going to make this easy for you, think again."

*

On the twenty-third a large crate with USA markings arrived at Rupert's door. Written in thick black letters on all four sides: GILES! DO NOT OPEN UNTIL 25th!!

"Must be from Buffy," said Rupert delightedly as he signed for it.

With some effort, the delivery man deposited it in the hallway. Rupert bent to lift it and staggered, surprised at the weight. He wrestled it into his lounge and stood back, staring at it. "Good grief. What on earth's in there?"

Olivia looked it over. "They wouldn't send you a demon, would they?"

"Well, Spike might." Uncertain now, Rupert walked around the crate and frowned. "Perhaps I should put a caging spell - "

"Rupert," Olivia said firmly. "It's a Christmas crate from your friends in America. Put it under the tree and leave it alone."

"It won't fit under the tree."

"Open it now, then."

"No. Willow's probably put a spell on it. Give me blisters or something."

"Then do nothing and come over here. I need a cuddle."

*

The local pub was a splash of light on a dark tree-lined road off Mitching's main street. Olivia and Rupert arrived there early on Christmas Eve and found the quaint old place quite quiet. The landlord's two siamese cats sat regally beside the pumps on the bar and gave Rupert and Olivia a blue-eyed stare as they came in.

While Rupert ordered their drinks at the bar, Olivia sat at a table beside the huge sweet-smelling log fire and gave the pub dog a pat as it wandered past on it's continuous quest for snacks. She looked around.

A woman sat down at a table on the other side of the fire and smiled at her, wishing her a happy Christmas. Olivia replied in kind and noticed that the woman had placed what looked to be a very old book on her table. The gold lettering on the dark spine was easy to read: "The Vampyre: to bind and control a natural creature."

When Rupert arrived with their drinks Olivia pointed at the book and smiled at him. "Just can't get away from them, can you?"

Rupert looked at the book and his mouth fell open. "Good lord! No, it can't be. It must be a fake."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, good heavens, that book is believed to be a myth. No-one's ever seen it - no-one in the Council, at least. It's supposed to be a translation of a much older book, reputedly containing a whole series of spells for the containment and control of vampires, but god - " he shook his head. "If it's original it's over four hundred years old and virtually one of a kind. No-one really believes it exists."

"Oh, it exists," said the woman with a smile. "I'm sorry, but it's quiet in here - I didn't mean to eavesdrop."

"No," said Rupert. "That's all right. Would you mind if - could I take a look at that book?"

The woman obligingly brought the book to their table and Rupert carefully leafed through the pages.

"It looks genuine," said Olivia.

"Yes. It's hard to fake old books convincingly." Rupert frowned as he looked closely at the red and black lettering. "It has been done though, in the past."

"Oh yes," said the woman. "But this one happens to be real." She looked at Rupert. "You're interested in old books? Or just the supernatural?"

"Well, both really." Rupert reluctantly handed the book back to her. "That's fascinating - so many spells. How did you come by it? That's a book worth studying."

"Oh, they don't work, you know."

"The spells?" Rupert looked closely at her.

"Yes. The writer was assuming the vampire is natural, connected to the world. That's a load of rubbish to base anything on, don't you think?" The woman held out her hand. "Mera."

"Rupert. This is Olivia," Rupert frowned slightly. "I've seen you before, I think"

"Perhaps. I've just moved here."

"Oh, so have I." Rupert nodded at the book. "Assuming spells really work, how do you know that those don't?"

Mera laughed. "I've tried them. Ages ago. I'm only reading it now for a laugh, the naivety is amusing. A lot of hogwash. I wasted a lot of time trying to get those spells to work."

"Well, you'd need to get hold of a vampire first," said Rupert with a laugh, making it sound as if the idea was ridiculous.

Mera waved a hand. "Oh, that's no problem - we're virtually falling over the little buggers in the street."

Rupert blinked.

"No, it's the spells," she continued. "The idiot writer didn't know what he was talking about. You can borrow it if you like."

"What?" Rupert was suprised by the sudden offer. "I mean - you'd trust this book to a complete stranger?"

"If you live in this village you won't be a stranger for long. Anyway, I'm a good judge of character. Where's your house?"

"Right up at the north end where the road turns into the track that runs up to the hills. Little Eden."

"Little Eden! Oh, that's a beautiful place. I'm down the other end - the miniscule thatched hiccup between the church and the farm." She laughed. "Corpses on one side, pig-swill on the other. If it'll make you feel better, I could bring it round tomorr - no, that's Christmas. Boxing Day, how about that? If you're not busy, that is. That way you'll know that I'll know you're genuine."

"Well, thank you very much," Rupert smiled at her. "Even if it is rubbish, as you say, I'd still like a close look at it."

"Boxing day, then." Mera smiled at them. "Well, I've intruded long enough, and I have to go anyway. Nice to meet you both."

They watched her leave the pub. Olivia turned to Rupert. "Middle-aged Wicca wannabe looney?"

"Well, if I was him," Rupert indicated a man at the bar, "I'd be inclined to say yes. But I'm not him, so I'm going to say - who knows?"

"She was quite matter-of-fact about vampires."

"Yes." Rupert sipped his drink thoughtfully. "I wonder where she got that book from?"

*

Christmas Day.

"Oh, Rupert! Perfume! And my old favourite, too. How sweet of you!"

"Thank god. You put me through hell over that, you know."

"That was the plan. When are you going to open that crate?"

"Right now."

Among the bottles of whiskey - hidden by Willow from prying officials - magical paraphernalia, framed photographs, jumpers and, to his suprise, a small glass box of Sunnydale earth, Rupert found something that made his heart ache.

"Hi Giles!" Smiling broadly, Buffy waved at him from the television screen. "Happy Christmas!" She rolled her eyes. "Oh god, I had a whole speech planned and now it's gone totally out of my head. I'm just having a hard time looking at a little piece of black plastic with a lens and pretending it's you." She looked down at the top she was wearing. "Thank you so much for the top. It's beautiful - I love real lace. But you already know that, because you bought it for me, so - oh god, I'm rambling." She straightened up. "We all really miss you, you know. I still can't believe you're not here. Sunnydale's really quiet at the moment. Nothing much has happened since you left, a little slayage here and there, no big." She smiled. "Anyway, hope you're okay - and happy. I want my Watcher to be happy, you hear? I'll see you. I mean it." She blew a kiss at the camera. "Bye." The screen faded on her smile.

Willow and Tara were next. Watching Tara's shy smile and Willow's bright face and typically enthusiastic wave, Rupert felt his eyes prickling and wondered if he was going to make it to the end of the video without having to leave the room. Anya gave him a lengthy description of life in the Magic Box and Xander made a point of calling him 'G-Man' many times, giving Rupert a broad 'what are you gonna do?' smile. Rupert laughed. When Dawn came on he sat forward, unable to believe how much older she looked. She was wearing makeup and even sounded older as she told him about the small events in her life. The film ended on a still of them all sitting together. Several humorous and downright vulgar credits rolled up the screen.

"That was really nice," said Olivia. "You miss them, don't you?"

"Oh god," Rupert closed his eyes. "You have no idea. We went through so much together." He winced as if someone had nudged him in the stomach.

Olivia squeezed his hand. "Then you'd better not watch that again for a while."

He sighed and looked at the bottles of clandestine scotch that had come out of the crate. "Willow could make a fortune as a smuggler. Do you think they think I'm an alcoholic?"

Olivia laughed. "Looks like it. The clothes are nice, though. And this magical stuff is fascinating." She held up a dubious-looking statuette. "What's this?"

"It's from Anya. I-I think you need to be drunk before I tell you what it's for. That woman has a mind like a - well, let's just say Xander must be very happy."

"Are you feeling easier about being back here?" Olivia asked suddenly. "More than you were when you first arrived?"

He thought about that. "I haven't been here long enough to feel as though I belong." He looked at her. "It's easier with you here. You're the link that joins it all."

Olivia gave him a little smile. "There's a card you haven't opened." She pointed to the pile of wrapping debris from the crate.

Rupert opened it. "Good lord. It's from Spike."

"Spike? What's he doing sending Christmas cards?"

"It's a New Year card - god forbid he has anything to do with religion." Rupert picked up a piece of paper that had fallen out. "Rupes," he read aloud. "Just to let you know that Buffy and Dawn are okay. They have their ups and downs but get through them. Nothing lasting. That's all. Spike." He raised his eyebrows. "First time I've received mail from a vampire. What an elegant hand."

"He wasn't in the video."

"Probably thinks it's too, er, 'un-cool'." Rupert read the letter again. "Hm. He's letting me know he'll tell me if anything bad happens. He knows Buffy won't want to worry me." He looked at the back of the envelope. "SWAKITM. Cheeky bugger."

"What's that?"

"Sealed With A Kick In The Mouth." Despite himself, Rupert laughed.

Olivia smiled. "It's strange he's so protective."

"He takes his promise to Buffy very seriously."

"A vampire." She shook her head. "It's just weird."

"I thought about it a lot while I was writing that report on him for Quentin and I'm beginning to think it's not so strange after all." Rupert hung Spike's card with the others over the fireplace and turned back to Olivia. "You're looking tired this morning, are you feeling all right?"

"No. Yes - I mean, I'm just sleepy. I might have a quick nap."

"You do that." Rupert looked at his watch. "I have to throw the bird in the oven now. I'll wake you in time for lunch, all right?"

Olivia kissed him and went upstairs.

*

On the morning of the ninth of January, the day before Olivia was due to go home, Rupert broached the subject that had been on his mind ever since he had arrived back in England. They were in his kitchen and winter sunlight shone through the window, falling on Olivia and highlighting the planes of her face.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked. "It's something I - I've been thinking about a lot since I got here. We've so much history - "

He watched in confusion as her face fell. She seemed horrified at his suggestion. Feeling a stab of deep pain, he watched her rise abruptly from the table and move to the window.

She took a deep breath. "Rupert - "

"There's someone else isn't there?" His voice was dull with disappointment.

Olivia turned quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. "Oh god, no. No, Rupert, honestly - there's nothing I'd like better than to live with you."

Now he was confused. "Then why so horrified, Olivia?" he asked quietly. "What's so bad? What's wrong?"

Olivia rubbed her hands over her face. "Oh god. Rupert, I'm so sorry. So sorry." She felt something tighten up inside her.

Alarmed, Rupert moved quickly to her side. "Tell me." He placed his hands on her shoulders and she looked at him, her face dull now.

"I wanted to tell you - I wanted to tell you here, not at my house. The first night here was so nice, I put it off for a day. Then another day. By the time Christmas came it was too late to say anything, you were so relaxed, I just couldn't tell you." Her voice was shaking now. "And now you're looking at the future, and - and there isn't any. Not with me." The tightness inside her was so strong now that she could hardly draw breath. "I'm dying," she forced out. "It's cancer. In my blood. All over me. It's untreatable."

Then the dam burst.

*

Rupert stood with Olivia on the platform at Mitching station and knew that he had to at least try to get her to stay.

"Stay another day. One more day."

"I want to, but I can't. I have to be at the hospital tomorrow."

"I'll come to you, then." Rupert was determined not to be separated from her for long. "As soon as I can get a week away from Quentin."

Olivia nodded. She felt light now that he knew. "I've had time to get used to it. You haven't." She laughed harshly. "Oh, yes. Used to it. Ha. I really wish I'd told you when you first phoned." "Don't worry about it. I know - I mean I understand how hard it can be to tell someone about this, harder than it is for the person hearing it." Olivia kissed him. "I'd live with you. If it wasn't for this, I would. No hesitation." She looked around."Here's the train."



*

Giles!!

Just a quick word to let you know we're all still alive.

Have you used Anya's statue on Olivia yet??!!!!! Haha!! Sorry. Bad me. Haha!

Well, HAVE you???

The only thing that's happened around here, apart from a group of demons, is Dawn had a blazing row with Spike the other night over her staying out late. Later than seven o'clock, that is. He's behaving like a prison guard and Buffy's had to have a word with him. It's all okay now and Dawn's boyfriend is getting over his terror.

Everyone says hello.

Miss you.

Willow.

*

Rupert turned to the window and stared out at the night.