Spoilers: Shortly before Graduation One.

Pairing: A nice little fatherly tale

Disclaimer: Joss is a genius, and he deserves to own it all. I am a worm, and deserve only the enjoyment I derive from playing with his wonderful creations. He gets the money, but I think I get the better part of the deal.

She's late.

He has a ton of work to do—important work related to his destiny, and menial work necessary to his cover—but he can do none of it. He sits at his desk, shuffles papers from pile to pile, and counts down the minutes. She is definitely late.

When he first met her, it wouldn't have bothered him if she were late. Oh, he liked to keep track of her, wanted to make sure she was Slaying the things that needed Slaying, but it didn't bother him whenever she was late. He didn't worry, or at least not like he does now. It's a problem, of course, because the girl is never on time for anything. He doesn't tolerate tardiness in anybody else, never has, but he laughs it off when it comes to his Slayer. Most of this laughter is from the deep relief he feels when he knows that she is safe, but at least part of it come from his joy in her. Lateness is part of who she is, and he loves everything about her.

Yes, he loves his Slayer. He's not sure how this came about. When he first met her, he saw her as a tool, an instrument to work his will. Now, he loves her. It makes it awkward for him, having such a deep emotional investment in his Slayer, but he could no more cut out the love from his heart than he could personally remove his heart itself. It is part of him now, and will be until the day he dies. This love that he feels will be his undoing someday; he knows this, but he can't regret it.

She's beautiful, his Slayer, but that's not why he loves her. She is magnificence personified when she is Slaying, and he admires her for this, but it doesn't make him love her. She is gloriously alive, and that is why he loves her. Her spirit is so free, so wild, so, so original, that he can't help but be enchanted. She is so uniquely herself. She's witty, and funny, and smart, and self-reliant—all of which makes him respect her—and yet she is also unsure of herself and desperate for affection ... which makes him love her more than any other person that has ever come into his life. And she loves him. He knows that she does. She tries to hide it behind flippant comments and cheeky grins, but she does love him, and he cherishes her love.

Even though he had promised himself that he was going to stop staring at the clock, his eyes steal down to his wristwatch once again. His heart stops in his chest; she is really very late. Intellectually, he knows that she is probably fine. In all likelihood, she finished Slaying early and then went to the Bronze in order to work off her excess energy. Of course she did promise to report in with him after she completed her assignment, but she tends to forget these things. At least, he pretends that she forgets. In reality, her independent spirit chafes at his tutelage and she rebels against him by "forgetting" to check in. He doesn't like it when she does this, but he accepts it. Like her perpetual lateness, it is part of who she is.

He has a great deal of work to do, and it's time that he stop procrastinating and get on with it. It's no use. When he finds himself reading the same invoice for the third time, he realizes that he has to do something. He will send somebody out to find her while he waits by the phone.

Decision made, he quickly gets up and walks over to the door of his office. He sticks his head out the door and calls out to one of his guards. "Faith hasn't checked in yet, has she?"

The vampire straightens his spine and responds crisply. "No sir. Shall I send her in when she gets here?"

"No. I mean, yes, send her in if she gets here, but no, don't wait for her. I want you to send some of your boys out to find her as soon as possible."


"Yes sir, Mr. Mayor. I'm on it, right away." The vampire is obsequious, but that's okay. He doesn't tolerate sauciness from anyone other than Faith.

Mayor Wilkins leans back in his chair and sighs. It sure is a lot of work, taking care of a Slayer. He wonders whether those two Englishmen worry as much about their Slayer as he does about his. He wonders whether Buffy Summers is loved as much as his girl. No, that's impossible; that stodgy Mr. Giles could never love anyone as fiercely as he loves his Faith.

The End