Giles cocked his head at an angle as the name struck a familiar note in his mind. "Of the Collinsport Collinses?" he asked, "Joshua's son?"
Barnabas rested his hands on his cane. A slight, enigmatic parting of his lips that might have been a smile was his only acknowledgment of Giles' second question. "You have heard of our little village, I see."
Giles nodded. "Your father's name was greatly honored by the Watchers who trained me. They considered him the greatest of our American brethren of that or any other era. His journals were required reading."
Barnabas smiled openly. "Thank you. You will, I hope, forgive my...insistence, but at my advanced age I have found patience to be a precious and nonrenewable resource. Is Alexander here? His life is in great danger and I have traveled far to warn him."
"He is training in the back room. Would you care for some tea or...other beverage while I get him?"
"Tea will be fine, Mister Giles. It has been decades since Julia, my dear, late wife freed me from the need for that...other liquid."
Giles walked back to the nook where the hot plate was kept, poured a cup of hot tea and brought it back to Barnabas, who had seated himself at the showroom table.
"Thank you."
"You're quite welcome."
Giles walked over to the training room door. He watched as Xander finished shucking off the soft sumo suit he wore when Buffy needed a living punching bag. 'My children,' Giles thought as he watched Xander and Buffy share a warm smile.
"Ah, Xander. There's a gentleman here to see you. It's quite important."
"We'll be right there, G-Man. Gotta towel off the exhaustion," Xander called back.
"Did Willow and Tara get here yet?" Buffy asked.
At that moment, a chime tinkled as the front door opened. "I do believe they've arrived," Giles answered with a smile.
"Giles, we're--Oh! I'm sorry, didn't mean to disturb you. Can I help you? Oh! Are you here to see Giles? And I'm being completely rude, aren't I? Asking all these questions and--oh--I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Willow. Rosenberg. This is my girlfriend Tara, uh, MacLay."
Giles resisted the urge to grin like a doting father as he turned to face the showroom. 'Yes,' he thought, 'not of my blood but my children nonetheless. I must find a way, before the next crisis, to let them know how I love them.'
He watched as Barnabas, leaning on that distinctive cane, stood. Taking Willow's proffered hand, the former vampire kissed it in a courtly manner. 'Cured,' Giles thought. 'Is it truly possible? What will this bode for...him if the process can be repeated?' Ever since that horrible winter and spring of nearly three years past, thinking of Angel by name had been difficult at best for him. 'Time for that internal debate later, Ripper,' he told himself. One of his children was in danger. There lay the priority.
"Xander and Buffy will be out momentarily, Mister Collins. I see you've already met Willow and Tara. They are the most delightful and intelligent young women this nation has produced in quite some time as well as being members of the Wiccan religion. Willow in particular is also Xander's oldest friend."
Barnabas nodded his acknowledgment of the information. He had known at first glance that the young women were quite strong. Perhaps stronger even than Angelique had been at the height of her power. Limited as his knowledge of the Wiccan faith was, it yet reassured him that they would not be so capricious with their power as she had been. Looking past Giles, he saw the Slayer walk through the doorway and enter the room. 'I'd expected her to be taller,' he thought. Weariness, he also noted, was easily evident in her body language. The young man who followed her was dishevelled from his training, yet his ready smile showed that the exhaustion touched not his spirit. 'Most definitely his mother's son.'
"Alexander," Barnabas said, "it has been such a very long time."
"I know you, don't I? How do I know you?"
"The Harrises, did they tell you of your adoption?" A scowl flitted across Xander's face in reply. "I am Barnabas Collins, and your true parents were very dear friends of mine. Their names were Peter and Victoria Bradford."
Barnabas rested his hands on his cane. A slight, enigmatic parting of his lips that might have been a smile was his only acknowledgment of Giles' second question. "You have heard of our little village, I see."
Giles nodded. "Your father's name was greatly honored by the Watchers who trained me. They considered him the greatest of our American brethren of that or any other era. His journals were required reading."
Barnabas smiled openly. "Thank you. You will, I hope, forgive my...insistence, but at my advanced age I have found patience to be a precious and nonrenewable resource. Is Alexander here? His life is in great danger and I have traveled far to warn him."
"He is training in the back room. Would you care for some tea or...other beverage while I get him?"
"Tea will be fine, Mister Giles. It has been decades since Julia, my dear, late wife freed me from the need for that...other liquid."
Giles walked back to the nook where the hot plate was kept, poured a cup of hot tea and brought it back to Barnabas, who had seated himself at the showroom table.
"Thank you."
"You're quite welcome."
Giles walked over to the training room door. He watched as Xander finished shucking off the soft sumo suit he wore when Buffy needed a living punching bag. 'My children,' Giles thought as he watched Xander and Buffy share a warm smile.
"Ah, Xander. There's a gentleman here to see you. It's quite important."
"We'll be right there, G-Man. Gotta towel off the exhaustion," Xander called back.
"Did Willow and Tara get here yet?" Buffy asked.
At that moment, a chime tinkled as the front door opened. "I do believe they've arrived," Giles answered with a smile.
"Giles, we're--Oh! I'm sorry, didn't mean to disturb you. Can I help you? Oh! Are you here to see Giles? And I'm being completely rude, aren't I? Asking all these questions and--oh--I didn't even introduce myself. I'm Willow. Rosenberg. This is my girlfriend Tara, uh, MacLay."
Giles resisted the urge to grin like a doting father as he turned to face the showroom. 'Yes,' he thought, 'not of my blood but my children nonetheless. I must find a way, before the next crisis, to let them know how I love them.'
He watched as Barnabas, leaning on that distinctive cane, stood. Taking Willow's proffered hand, the former vampire kissed it in a courtly manner. 'Cured,' Giles thought. 'Is it truly possible? What will this bode for...him if the process can be repeated?' Ever since that horrible winter and spring of nearly three years past, thinking of Angel by name had been difficult at best for him. 'Time for that internal debate later, Ripper,' he told himself. One of his children was in danger. There lay the priority.
"Xander and Buffy will be out momentarily, Mister Collins. I see you've already met Willow and Tara. They are the most delightful and intelligent young women this nation has produced in quite some time as well as being members of the Wiccan religion. Willow in particular is also Xander's oldest friend."
Barnabas nodded his acknowledgment of the information. He had known at first glance that the young women were quite strong. Perhaps stronger even than Angelique had been at the height of her power. Limited as his knowledge of the Wiccan faith was, it yet reassured him that they would not be so capricious with their power as she had been. Looking past Giles, he saw the Slayer walk through the doorway and enter the room. 'I'd expected her to be taller,' he thought. Weariness, he also noted, was easily evident in her body language. The young man who followed her was dishevelled from his training, yet his ready smile showed that the exhaustion touched not his spirit. 'Most definitely his mother's son.'
"Alexander," Barnabas said, "it has been such a very long time."
"I know you, don't I? How do I know you?"
"The Harrises, did they tell you of your adoption?" A scowl flitted across Xander's face in reply. "I am Barnabas Collins, and your true parents were very dear friends of mine. Their names were Peter and Victoria Bradford."