Title: A Family Way 2/?
Author: Hayley
E-Mail: hayleylamb2000@yahoo.com
Summary: Sequel to 'Spellbound'.
Rating: Nothing too shocking, but just for grins I'll give it an overall "R" (Better Safe Than Sorry)
Disclaimer: The bad news is they aren't mine. The good news is what Joss don't know won't hurt him.
Feedback: Would make me do a happy little Snoopy Dance all over my study
. . . .
Distribution: Ooh! Just as likely as feedback to make me Snoopy Dance!! Just let me know where and it's yours. . . .
Spoilers: None really. . . .
*~*~*~*~*
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Sunnydale Museum
"Fascinating set up you've got here Rupert." Trevor remarked idly looking through some of Giles' weapons.
"Not much here though."
"No. We keep several armories all over the city." Giles replied. "Never so much in one place that it could all be destroyed should something happen. The largest is at home."
"Are we going to have the honor of being introduced to your Slayer?" Neville's question was less of a request, than a demand.
"Actually, Buffy is no longer anyone's Slayer." Giles responded. "She has no contact with the Council." It was better to begin with his father as he meant to go on. He wouldn't allow the old man to bully Buffy into anything.
"A result of your advice no doubt." Neville returned. "Not once in all the years of the Council has a Slayer ever turned her back on her calling."
"It's not her calling that Buffy's turned her back on. It's the Council." Giles pointed out. "She still goes out every night and stakes vampires. She still works to keep the Hellmouth under some semblance of control. She is one of the most effective Slayers in history without *any* assistance from the Council. What does that tell you about the value of a Council of Watchers?"
Devon let out a low appreciative whistle. That was a low blow he hadn't thought his brother capable of delivering, but Rupert did not disappoint, it was quick, clean and would hit their father right where he lived.
"You never did understand the value of tradition, the place for a voice of reason." Neville puffed up. "The Council of Watchers existed before you did boy. It will exist long after you and your rogue Slayer are gone. If it weren't for the very council you have so great a contempt for you would have *nothing*. You'd still be in London dabbling in the occult, killing innocents and wasting away your life as a drunk. The Council gave you a purpose greater than yourself an opportunity to prove me wrong about your character to carry on a tradition from both sides of your family tree. And instead of gratitude what is your typical response? Scorn and derision. Perhaps in the future you might consider the empty hell your life would have been without the calling you've thrown aside."
"Whoa. . . . time out here guys." Buffy walked into the basement of the museum to find her watcher, and a man who could only be Giles' father standing toe to toe. "You must be Mr. Giles."
"You're the Slayer?" Neville asked in surprise. The girl wasn't even tall enough to see over his shoulder. She looked too delicate to be the chosen one.
"That's what they tell me." Buffy held out her hand. "Buffy Summers."
"Neville Giles."
"Buffy, what brings you here? Don't you have class this morning?"
"Took my chemistry quiz. Soon as we were finished we could leave." She gestured to the office. "I realized that I was running low on stakes, and came by to fill up for patrol tonight."
"I don't suppose that sparring is anywhere on your list of things to do today?"
"Hmm. . .that's a tough one. Get my butt kicked by my ticked off Watcher, or go on a picnic with my boyfriend. . . ." Buffy balanced her two hands like a scale. "Sorry Giles. . . .a girl's got to have priorities."
"Your priority should be honing your skills young lady." Neville interjected.
Buffy turned to face Neville, blinked, and turned back to Giles. "Anyway, as I was saying, we can make it up tomorrow if you're free."
"Are you going to allow this child to be so disrespectful towards a member of the council Rupert?" Neville's tone implied that Giles had better do something about Buffy.
"No sir." Giles replied. "I'm going to encourage her to be more vocal in her disrespect."
Buffy's blue eyes widened. Oooh. Giles was more pissed than she could remember seeing him in a long time. "Okay. I always listen to my Watcher." She turned back to Neville. "Sunnydale is *my* town Mr. Giles. You know why I stick around for this little gig?" She dug into her purse and produced a wallet size picture of the Scooby gang. "This is why. Because everyone I love in this whole world is right here on the Hellmouth. They're why I stay, they're why I fight, and most of the time they are why I win. So if I want to spend an afternoon in a park and feel like a normal human being, then that's what I'll do. If you're so hot to tell me or my watcher how to do our duties, *YOU* can spar with him." She whirled on her heel and stalked towards the office to get some stakes, but tossed over her shoulder. "But I'd watch his left hook."
"Fiesty little thing isn't she?" Devon chuckled. He'd seen his father apoplectic before, but never such a nasty shade of purple.
"Yes, well. I had planned on giving her a copy of the Slayer Handbook. . . .but ten minutes after meeting her, I came to the conclusion that the Handbook was utterly useless."
Trevor watched as Buffy emerged from the office with a backpack stuffed with stakes, and stormed out of the basement. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't most Slayers solitary? Friends and boyfriends are not the norm. . . ."
"I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to meet the rest of the 'Scooby Gang' during your visit they're a very remarkable group of young people." Giles ignored his father's derisive snort, and continued to lead his brothers on a tour of the museum.
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Angel's Mansion
"Angel? Are you down here?" Cordelia descended the stairs of the mansion to the basement where her boss and friend had taken to brooding lately. She knew that moving back to Sunnydale, so close to Buffy and Riley hadn't been easy for the vampire, but most days he seemed okay with it.
Angel set aside the book of poems he'd been reading with a sigh. "Yes Cordelia."
"Good." Crossing the massive basement, Cordelia settled herself in the wingback chair next to Angel's with a contented sigh.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. It's just. . . ."
"Just what? You haven't even lectured me about brooding once today." Angel teased gently.
"Giles' family is here."
"And you're hiding out here. . . ."
"His brothers are really nice. I just feel like I've known them forever. But his *father*. . . .it's so strange Angel. It's like I'm looking at Giles' face. Not Giles' face *NOW* but maybe Giles 20 years from now, and lemme tell you, he still looks good, but that's not the point. . . .he's COLD. It's like he's not looking at you. . .he's looking through you. I know he's Giles' dad and everything, and I SHOULD be nice to him. But I just want to run the other way when I see him."
"From what I've heard about Neville Giles from Wesley, that's not an uncommon reaction. The man is considered one of the most respected members of the Council. I'm sure that Giles' 'methods' make him more than a little uncomfortable."
"See? Right there! That's what I don't get! What is the Council's major malfunction with the way Giles does his job? Let's see. . . world saved, evil doers undone, Slay-Girl still alive and kicking. I don't see the problem!"
"That cinches it Cordelia. You'll never be a Watcher." Angel smiled. "You see, the Council is like one big ivory tower. They've got the intellectual information. They *know* what's out there. They even might *know* how to deal with it, but when it comes time to APPLY it, the Council fails miserably. They're so caught up in their own rules and regulations they don't know that sometimes on a Hellmouth you just have to wing it and hope for the best."
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Later that Night:
"Father and brothers tucked safely away?"
"Yes."
"End of the world avoided?"
"I believe so."
"All of humanity saved?"
"For the moment."
"Bad ass disposed of?"
"Dispatched in a great many small oozing pieces."
"Good guys safe and accounted for?"
"Every last, cranky, hormonally driven, angst ridden, calf-eye making, brooding, whining one of them."
"Sacred duties performed for the night?"
"Yes."
"Then job well done lover of mine." Cordelia rolled to her side and propped her chin on her hands. She really hadn't been sleeping anyway. She never slept until Giles was home and the doors locked for the evening. It didn't matter whether he was stuck at the museum, or out of town, or saving the world from brassed off demons. "You look tired. How about a bath?"
"Luv, that sounds heavenly."
"You run the water, and I'll bring you a drink."
Cupping her beloved face in his hands Giles planted a quick kiss on her lips. "My own angel of mercy."
"Well, when my man saves the world, I like to pamper him a little." Cordelia placed her fingertips in the corners of her mouth and twisted them sweetly. Climbing as nimbly as possible from their bed, she tugged on a robe and headed down the stairs.
She quickly poured Giles a scotch and soda and returned up the stairs to find her husband in the bathtub, eyes closed submerged to the waist in bubbles.
Leaning against the doorway she enjoyed the view. Things had been so busy on the Hellmouth lately that it was almost impossible to have any time alone with him.
"Are you going to stare at me, or join me?" Giles asked wryly without opening his eyes. He could feel her in the room, her essence radiant and overpowering. "And either way, I could use that drink." He added, not certain if his words would reward him with scotch and soda being poured over his head. One of the joys of life with a pregnant woman.
He loathed scotch and soda, it being a terrible waste of good soda, and even better scotch, but he accepted the watered down drinks gratefully knowing that it was one of the many small ways in which Cordelia cared for him.
"I thought I'd scrub your back." Cordelia pressed the cool glass into his hands and picked up a soft body puff. She poured a small dollop of Body Shop Nautilis body gel on the puff and began to ease it over Giles' scarred, aching back.
Sighing, Giles allowed himself to slump forward, giving in to her tender touch. "That's wonderful Cordelia." He murmured appreciatively. "How was business today?"
"Snagged some new clients. Angel and Wesley are going to be busy."
"Angel and Wesley were a good deal of help tonight. I don't know that we could have defeated the demon as quickly as we did without them. And I know that there would have been a good many more casualties."
Giles took a prolonged sip of his drink, waiting for her interruption before continuing. She of course did not disappoint.
"See?? I tell you and I tell you and I tell you again that Wesley *is* a good Watcher and addition to the Scooby Gang."
"*Good* is such a strong word. How about we say he's climbing steadily towards acceptable?" Giles chuckled as Cordelia brought her palm down flat and slapped the surface of the water, splashing him. "You know, I'm not sure I want to discuss another man while you're touching me." He mused, his breath catching slightly in his throat.
"You mean I should stop doing that?" Cordelia paused in her ministrations.
"Erhmm. . .no."
"Then it's *this* you want me to stop?" Cordelia cocked her head to one side.
"Definately NOT!" Giles captured her by the forearms and gently pulled his alluring lover over the rim of the tub, landing her in the warm soapy water. "I want you to be quiet and love me."
Soapy hands running through his hair, Cordelia laughed softly. "As you wish."
hr
"I don't like this."
"Agreed. It's not the ideal solution Neville. But we both know that there is hardly ever an 'ideal' situation. We need the upper hand with your son, and frankly this may be the only way to get it." Quentin Travers' lifted his glass to his lips. "And really in the grand scope of things, this is rather mild. Surely Rupert will see the reasoning?"
Neville Giles snorted in derision. "You ridiculous little man. You've obviously never met my son."
hr
Author: Hayley
E-Mail: hayleylamb2000@yahoo.com
Summary: Sequel to 'Spellbound'.
Rating: Nothing too shocking, but just for grins I'll give it an overall "R" (Better Safe Than Sorry)
Disclaimer: The bad news is they aren't mine. The good news is what Joss don't know won't hurt him.
Feedback: Would make me do a happy little Snoopy Dance all over my study
. . . .
Distribution: Ooh! Just as likely as feedback to make me Snoopy Dance!! Just let me know where and it's yours. . . .
Spoilers: None really. . . .
*~*~*~*~*
hr
Sunnydale Museum
"Fascinating set up you've got here Rupert." Trevor remarked idly looking through some of Giles' weapons.
"Not much here though."
"No. We keep several armories all over the city." Giles replied. "Never so much in one place that it could all be destroyed should something happen. The largest is at home."
"Are we going to have the honor of being introduced to your Slayer?" Neville's question was less of a request, than a demand.
"Actually, Buffy is no longer anyone's Slayer." Giles responded. "She has no contact with the Council." It was better to begin with his father as he meant to go on. He wouldn't allow the old man to bully Buffy into anything.
"A result of your advice no doubt." Neville returned. "Not once in all the years of the Council has a Slayer ever turned her back on her calling."
"It's not her calling that Buffy's turned her back on. It's the Council." Giles pointed out. "She still goes out every night and stakes vampires. She still works to keep the Hellmouth under some semblance of control. She is one of the most effective Slayers in history without *any* assistance from the Council. What does that tell you about the value of a Council of Watchers?"
Devon let out a low appreciative whistle. That was a low blow he hadn't thought his brother capable of delivering, but Rupert did not disappoint, it was quick, clean and would hit their father right where he lived.
"You never did understand the value of tradition, the place for a voice of reason." Neville puffed up. "The Council of Watchers existed before you did boy. It will exist long after you and your rogue Slayer are gone. If it weren't for the very council you have so great a contempt for you would have *nothing*. You'd still be in London dabbling in the occult, killing innocents and wasting away your life as a drunk. The Council gave you a purpose greater than yourself an opportunity to prove me wrong about your character to carry on a tradition from both sides of your family tree. And instead of gratitude what is your typical response? Scorn and derision. Perhaps in the future you might consider the empty hell your life would have been without the calling you've thrown aside."
"Whoa. . . . time out here guys." Buffy walked into the basement of the museum to find her watcher, and a man who could only be Giles' father standing toe to toe. "You must be Mr. Giles."
"You're the Slayer?" Neville asked in surprise. The girl wasn't even tall enough to see over his shoulder. She looked too delicate to be the chosen one.
"That's what they tell me." Buffy held out her hand. "Buffy Summers."
"Neville Giles."
"Buffy, what brings you here? Don't you have class this morning?"
"Took my chemistry quiz. Soon as we were finished we could leave." She gestured to the office. "I realized that I was running low on stakes, and came by to fill up for patrol tonight."
"I don't suppose that sparring is anywhere on your list of things to do today?"
"Hmm. . .that's a tough one. Get my butt kicked by my ticked off Watcher, or go on a picnic with my boyfriend. . . ." Buffy balanced her two hands like a scale. "Sorry Giles. . . .a girl's got to have priorities."
"Your priority should be honing your skills young lady." Neville interjected.
Buffy turned to face Neville, blinked, and turned back to Giles. "Anyway, as I was saying, we can make it up tomorrow if you're free."
"Are you going to allow this child to be so disrespectful towards a member of the council Rupert?" Neville's tone implied that Giles had better do something about Buffy.
"No sir." Giles replied. "I'm going to encourage her to be more vocal in her disrespect."
Buffy's blue eyes widened. Oooh. Giles was more pissed than she could remember seeing him in a long time. "Okay. I always listen to my Watcher." She turned back to Neville. "Sunnydale is *my* town Mr. Giles. You know why I stick around for this little gig?" She dug into her purse and produced a wallet size picture of the Scooby gang. "This is why. Because everyone I love in this whole world is right here on the Hellmouth. They're why I stay, they're why I fight, and most of the time they are why I win. So if I want to spend an afternoon in a park and feel like a normal human being, then that's what I'll do. If you're so hot to tell me or my watcher how to do our duties, *YOU* can spar with him." She whirled on her heel and stalked towards the office to get some stakes, but tossed over her shoulder. "But I'd watch his left hook."
"Fiesty little thing isn't she?" Devon chuckled. He'd seen his father apoplectic before, but never such a nasty shade of purple.
"Yes, well. I had planned on giving her a copy of the Slayer Handbook. . . .but ten minutes after meeting her, I came to the conclusion that the Handbook was utterly useless."
Trevor watched as Buffy emerged from the office with a backpack stuffed with stakes, and stormed out of the basement. "And correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't most Slayers solitary? Friends and boyfriends are not the norm. . . ."
"I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to meet the rest of the 'Scooby Gang' during your visit they're a very remarkable group of young people." Giles ignored his father's derisive snort, and continued to lead his brothers on a tour of the museum.
hr
Angel's Mansion
"Angel? Are you down here?" Cordelia descended the stairs of the mansion to the basement where her boss and friend had taken to brooding lately. She knew that moving back to Sunnydale, so close to Buffy and Riley hadn't been easy for the vampire, but most days he seemed okay with it.
Angel set aside the book of poems he'd been reading with a sigh. "Yes Cordelia."
"Good." Crossing the massive basement, Cordelia settled herself in the wingback chair next to Angel's with a contented sigh.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. It's just. . . ."
"Just what? You haven't even lectured me about brooding once today." Angel teased gently.
"Giles' family is here."
"And you're hiding out here. . . ."
"His brothers are really nice. I just feel like I've known them forever. But his *father*. . . .it's so strange Angel. It's like I'm looking at Giles' face. Not Giles' face *NOW* but maybe Giles 20 years from now, and lemme tell you, he still looks good, but that's not the point. . . .he's COLD. It's like he's not looking at you. . .he's looking through you. I know he's Giles' dad and everything, and I SHOULD be nice to him. But I just want to run the other way when I see him."
"From what I've heard about Neville Giles from Wesley, that's not an uncommon reaction. The man is considered one of the most respected members of the Council. I'm sure that Giles' 'methods' make him more than a little uncomfortable."
"See? Right there! That's what I don't get! What is the Council's major malfunction with the way Giles does his job? Let's see. . . world saved, evil doers undone, Slay-Girl still alive and kicking. I don't see the problem!"
"That cinches it Cordelia. You'll never be a Watcher." Angel smiled. "You see, the Council is like one big ivory tower. They've got the intellectual information. They *know* what's out there. They even might *know* how to deal with it, but when it comes time to APPLY it, the Council fails miserably. They're so caught up in their own rules and regulations they don't know that sometimes on a Hellmouth you just have to wing it and hope for the best."
hr
Later that Night:
"Father and brothers tucked safely away?"
"Yes."
"End of the world avoided?"
"I believe so."
"All of humanity saved?"
"For the moment."
"Bad ass disposed of?"
"Dispatched in a great many small oozing pieces."
"Good guys safe and accounted for?"
"Every last, cranky, hormonally driven, angst ridden, calf-eye making, brooding, whining one of them."
"Sacred duties performed for the night?"
"Yes."
"Then job well done lover of mine." Cordelia rolled to her side and propped her chin on her hands. She really hadn't been sleeping anyway. She never slept until Giles was home and the doors locked for the evening. It didn't matter whether he was stuck at the museum, or out of town, or saving the world from brassed off demons. "You look tired. How about a bath?"
"Luv, that sounds heavenly."
"You run the water, and I'll bring you a drink."
Cupping her beloved face in his hands Giles planted a quick kiss on her lips. "My own angel of mercy."
"Well, when my man saves the world, I like to pamper him a little." Cordelia placed her fingertips in the corners of her mouth and twisted them sweetly. Climbing as nimbly as possible from their bed, she tugged on a robe and headed down the stairs.
She quickly poured Giles a scotch and soda and returned up the stairs to find her husband in the bathtub, eyes closed submerged to the waist in bubbles.
Leaning against the doorway she enjoyed the view. Things had been so busy on the Hellmouth lately that it was almost impossible to have any time alone with him.
"Are you going to stare at me, or join me?" Giles asked wryly without opening his eyes. He could feel her in the room, her essence radiant and overpowering. "And either way, I could use that drink." He added, not certain if his words would reward him with scotch and soda being poured over his head. One of the joys of life with a pregnant woman.
He loathed scotch and soda, it being a terrible waste of good soda, and even better scotch, but he accepted the watered down drinks gratefully knowing that it was one of the many small ways in which Cordelia cared for him.
"I thought I'd scrub your back." Cordelia pressed the cool glass into his hands and picked up a soft body puff. She poured a small dollop of Body Shop Nautilis body gel on the puff and began to ease it over Giles' scarred, aching back.
Sighing, Giles allowed himself to slump forward, giving in to her tender touch. "That's wonderful Cordelia." He murmured appreciatively. "How was business today?"
"Snagged some new clients. Angel and Wesley are going to be busy."
"Angel and Wesley were a good deal of help tonight. I don't know that we could have defeated the demon as quickly as we did without them. And I know that there would have been a good many more casualties."
Giles took a prolonged sip of his drink, waiting for her interruption before continuing. She of course did not disappoint.
"See?? I tell you and I tell you and I tell you again that Wesley *is* a good Watcher and addition to the Scooby Gang."
"*Good* is such a strong word. How about we say he's climbing steadily towards acceptable?" Giles chuckled as Cordelia brought her palm down flat and slapped the surface of the water, splashing him. "You know, I'm not sure I want to discuss another man while you're touching me." He mused, his breath catching slightly in his throat.
"You mean I should stop doing that?" Cordelia paused in her ministrations.
"Erhmm. . .no."
"Then it's *this* you want me to stop?" Cordelia cocked her head to one side.
"Definately NOT!" Giles captured her by the forearms and gently pulled his alluring lover over the rim of the tub, landing her in the warm soapy water. "I want you to be quiet and love me."
Soapy hands running through his hair, Cordelia laughed softly. "As you wish."
hr
"I don't like this."
"Agreed. It's not the ideal solution Neville. But we both know that there is hardly ever an 'ideal' situation. We need the upper hand with your son, and frankly this may be the only way to get it." Quentin Travers' lifted his glass to his lips. "And really in the grand scope of things, this is rather mild. Surely Rupert will see the reasoning?"
Neville Giles snorted in derision. "You ridiculous little man. You've obviously never met my son."
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