4. Five Years

"No, I will *not* put him on the phone. Not until you give me a good reason
why I should. And 'Because I'm the Slayer' doesn't come close."

Giles paused at the bottom of the staircase, and wondered
why Faith was calling instead of Xander. Was he hurt, perhaps? Or merely
busy? Being the active Watcher to the Slayer was never a simple job, even
without occasional side-lines in private investigation and construction. He
leaned against the iron railing, debating whether to interrupt. Anya could
certainly handle any simple request; possibly Faith was just being difficult
as a way to get under her skin. Their mutual pasts with Xander would forever
keep them from becoming friends, it seemed.

"You haven't wanted to talk to him for five years. Why should I let you
now?"

Buffy?

He was at the top of the staircase before he even realized he was hurrying,
adrenaline spiking through his system. "Anya."

She spun around, her dark eyes surprised, but her mouth still set in its
most stubborn line as she spoke into the receiver. "Yes, it's him. No! You
still haven't told me why!"

"Anya, give me the phone."

She grimaced horribly, ignoring the squawking from the phone, then rolled
her eyes and slapped it into his hand. He folded his arms and looked at her,
waiting; as she finally stomped up the staircase to their office, he put
put the receiver to his ear.

"--swear I'll find a way to make you sorry, Anya, even if I have to track
down one of your old vengeance buddies and make up a story for them--"

"Buffy, it's me."

He immediately regretted speaking when she stopped talking. In the dead
silence, he had time to remember why he hadn't made this phone call before.
Perhaps they should have attempted this through an easier medium prior
trying to talk to each other again. Postcards, maybe. Short, detached,
limited contact. So much less space to hurt each other in on the back of a
public piece of stamped cardboard.

"Giles?"

"Anya seemed to think you wanted to speak to me." His voice hadn't sounded
that rigid and distant since his last meeting with the Council, before
everything went to hell. Giles took a slow breath, forcing himself to think
past the hurt and guilt. "I assume this must be quite important, or you'd be
calling Wesley for help."

"Um, yeah." He could hear her breathing, then a very audible gulp. "I mean,
we're all okay. No world-save-age going on. I just-- it's something that Wes
can't help with."

"Ah. A translation, perhaps?" No, of course not. If that had been the case,
Wesley would have been the better, closer choice. But the inanities gave him
something to say, a way not to say the defensive phrases that had been
trapped inside him for five years.

"Not exactly. Um...." A frustrated sound, and he could almost see Buffy
pacing, making faces at the phone as she tried to get her thoughts in order,
and it made him smile in spite of the ache. "I don't know if you can help.
Or if you want to. But I thought I'd better check. It's... Giles, it's about
Dawn."

That caught him in the chest like her side kicks used to. He sat down on the
stairs and took off his glasses, fiddling with the frames while he waiting
for his emotions to quiet enough to think past them.

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you." He closed his eyes. "What about Dawn, precisely?"

"I think, maybe -- and I'm not crazy, Giles, it's Faith too, she had the
same dream, it's not just me and wishful thinking -- I think we can get her
back. As her, I mean. Not just as a blob of glowy energy."

"Oh." Relief. Joy. Pain. He laughed, then made himself be calm. Do not rush.
Do not assume. "The dreams you had hinted that there was a way to restore
her to her human state? Without the use of dark magics, I would hope."

"Of course." Buffy sounded insulted, then hesitant. "The thing is... I mean,
it's tricky, and Wes found something that might work, a talisman-thingy, and
a ritual, some kind of portal. I just... I wanted to be sure, and I
thought-- no, I knew, that you'd want to know. And, maybe, double-check it?
The more heads the better, the bigger the brains the more likely it is to
work, and you've still got the biggest brain I've ever met, and--"

She was babbling as she used to when she was excited and insecure, and he
immediately responded as he had a hundred times before. "Of course. Have Wes
send me a copy of the ritual, and I'll research it at once."

"Um, okay." Another awkward lull, which gave him enough time to think on
what she'd said. Wesley had already done all the research; she and Faith had
shared a Slayer dream; there was no possible reason she needed his help....

"It's just, I was hoping you could be here."

"You what?"

His question must have sounded more angry than shocked, because Buffy's next
stream of chatter was both rapid-fire and high-pitched, a sure sign of
distress. "I want you here. I want Dawn to see you when she comes back. I
know I said a lot of stuff that was pretty unforgivable right after Willow
saved us and we thought Dawn was gone forever; Spike's told me and told me,
and even Xander admitted that I was out of line when he was over the worst
of it, and... I know you don't have to do what I want any more, and well,
it's not like being my Watcher ever guaranteed that anyway. But... I..." She
was crying, he realized, and felt his own throat tightening reflexively. "I
know you did the best you could. I'm sorry I was such a heinous bitch,
Giles."

"Buffy." He was laughing silently, from relief, from surprise, from sheer
delight, and very close to tears. Just when he'd thought himself adjusted to
the outcome of that terrible night, to the loss of Willow and Dawn, to
Buffy's anger, to the isolation in England.... Just when his life was in a
semblance of order, it was broken again-- but in such a way that he couldn't
help but be glad.

"And, and, it's not because we might get Dawn back, I've been sorry for
years, I just didn't think you'd listen--"

"And why would you? You weren't the only one that said unforgivable things."
He sighed. "How is that tosser you're living with, anyway?"

"Spike's fine," she said, her voice wobbling. "He's making a peace sign at
the phone. Wait. Xander says that's--- um, never mind."

He did laugh then. "Good to know he hasn't changed."

"Yeah." She sniffed, then said softly, "So, you'll come?"

"Yes."

"When?"

Same Buffy. Impatient, demanding, needy... The litany didn't end there,
nor do a thing to stop the next words out of his mouth. "As soon as
possible. Tomorrow, hopefully."

Sweet, bright, grateful, jubilant.... "Really? You mean it?"

"Yes, really, I mean it."

"Giles...." Another long breath, suppressing tears, if he remembered it
right. "Thank you. Even if this doesn't work. Even if nothing changes. I'm
just glad you're talking to me."

He had to swallow and clear his throat at that. "Um, yes, well... You're not
the only one who could have picked up the phone. Or sent a card. I should
have done this years ago."

"Hey, one of us had to be the mature one."

Which startled more laughter out of him, as well as teasing. "I must check
my books. This may be a sign of an apocalypse after all."

She giggled. "Can't be. You just said you were going to check your books.
Ergo, it can't be the end of the world. Q.E.D."

"Q.E.D.?"

"Blame Spike. He quotes stuff when he wants to win arguments with me."

"A sure sign of desperation." He didn't want to hang up, to let her go, but
he had to if he was going to make the necessary arrangements. "Right, then.
I'll call you as soon as I have a flight."

"Yay." Buffy hesitated. "Are we okay now?"

Giles put his glasses back on, and took a deep breath. "I hope so. Too soon
to say, really... I think, most importantly, that we can be okay now. Which
I never would have believed possible fifteen minutes ago." He slowly got to
his feet. "Thank you for calling me, Buffy. We'll talk more when I get
there. All right?"

"Okay. Good. Yeah. Thanks, Giles."

"It's not a problem. Truly."

"Be careful flying, and... oh, just get here, okay?"

He restrained another laugh of relief. "As you wish. I'll see you soon,
Buffy." He heard her hang up, and was about to disconnect when he heard a
second click. Thoughtfully, he depressed the 'talk' button on the phone,
before he slowly climbed back up the stairs, then up the second staircase to
the office level of his flat.

Anya was industriously typing something on the computer, and he leaned
against the doorjamb a moment, watching her in silence. After three minutes
of this, her typing had gone past frenetic and into frenzied. She finally
banged her fingers down on the keyboard and directed a sharp, "What?" in his
direction.

"Do you think I shouldn't go?"

"Go? Go where? Where are you going?"

"Anya." He shook his head, and she finally gave up and just glared at him.

"Fine, I was listening in! I only did it because I was concerned. You were
still an emotional wreck two years ago, a long time after they died. I put a
lot of work into helping you be functional again, Giles, and a lot of work
into this business. If you were going to want to start drinking or sleeping
all day, I deserved some warning!"

"All you had to do was ask," he said mildly, "and I would have told you what
we discussed. We are partners, after all."

"It's not the same. There's always subtext when between you and Buffy. I
would have missed half the important stuff if I had to ask you what you
said."

"Subtext?" he asked, perplexed.

"'As you wish'? I saw that movie, Giles."

"What movie?"

"*The Princess Bride.* It's what the hero tells the heroine instead of
saying he loves her, even though I know you think of Buffy as your daughter,
and she'd make a rotten princess anyway." He stared at her in bemusement,
and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't tell me you haven't seen it!"

"I haven't. Xander always recommended it, but I don't believe I ever did see
it."

"Oh." She frowned, and he took a moment to notice the way her whole face got
into the enterprise of being frustrated. "Too bad. It's a great movie. But
never mind then." He nodded, and she shot him a sharp glance. "And you
better make that two tickets. Don't think you're leaving me behind, buster.
I want to see Dawnie again as much as you do."

"I was going to ask if you wanted to accompany me, but you didn't give me a
chance. And you didn't answer my first question. Do you think I should go?"

Anya stared at him as if he were insane. "As if you wouldn't drop everything
the second Buffy asked you to? Like this hasn't been eating at you for
years? That's not even a real question, Giles."

"Perhaps not." He rubbed his eyes, and removed his glasses. "But I still
wanted your opinion."

She bit her lip, glancing away. "I know how much it's hurt you, not talking
to her. I know you miss them." She glared at him then, crossing her arms. "I
just don't want to see you be hurt. It makes me feel nauseous when I think
about it. But if Dawn is going to be a person again, I think you should be
there."

"Ah. I see." He smiled, closing his eyes. "Thank you, Anya."

"And if Buffy starts yelling at you again, I'm going to slap her, Slayer or
no Slayer. Even if Spike and Xander gang up on me, and Faith tries to help.
I'm not letting her hurt you like that again."

He put his glasses back on, wondering if his imagination were running away
with him, if he'd had some kind of breakdown and dreamed up the idea of Dawn
returned to them, the conversation with Buffy, and the twists of emotion
underneath the confrontation he was having now. Did she even know what her
words hinted at?

Of course she did. This was Anya, who never said anything that wasn't
exactly and precisely what she meant. From the expression on her face, she
was just waiting for him to realize it.

"Oh," he said softly, overwhelmed.

She nodded briskly, turning back to the computer. "Go pack. I'm buying the
tickets now. With any luck, we'll be in Sunnydale within twenty-four hours,
buying Dawn ice cream and making up with Buffy and Xander."

He paused, then smiled at her very deliberately. "As you wish."

She smiled back while keeping her eyes on the computer screen. "Stop saying
that. It's distracting. Go! Pack!"

"Going." He turned away from her, humming under his breath. And after a
moment, he realized what it was: "Brand New Day."

~Turn the clock to zero honey, we'll sell all the stock we'll spend all the
money, we're startin' up a brand new day...~

*****

Christina
kikimariposa@prodigy.net