Story Title: Tonight and the Rest of My Life
Author: La Vie Boheme96
Chapter Title: "Closing Time"
*Author's Note: For your general information (there's been some confusion!), I have the striking Pierce Brosnan in mind for Bond as I'm writing this story. ^_^ *
The bells that adorned the Magic Box door jingled merrily, signaling the arrival of Buffy and James. The drive from the forest to the local magic shop had been excruciatingly silent, and Buffy was grateful for the presence of people she could actually bear talking to for more than five minutes.
Giles sat behind the front counter, his elegant nose--as usual--trapped in a book. Anya, Xander's exceptionally blunt girlfriend, was seated next to the Watcher, manning the cash register, and had been ready to fall asleep before Buffy and James showed up. The ringing bells pried Giles away from his book and ended Anya's flirtation with slumber.
"Well hello, Buffy," the Watcher said. He looked at James. "A friend?" he inquired of the Slayer.
"Oh. Yeah. We're like this," muttered Buffy, making a wide "V" with the index and middle fingers of her right hand. "Bond James Bond, this is Rupert Giles. That's Anya. She--and I use this term loosely--works here."
"Hi! You're very pretty," Anya said, pumping James' hand vigorously.
"Ah . . . a pleasure, miss."
James and Giles also greeted each other with a handshake, and the former said, "Good to meet you, Mr. Giles."
"Likewise, Mr. Bond. I prefer just plain Giles."
James in turn welcomed Giles to call him by his Christian name.
"So why have you decided to grace the Magic Box with this man's company, Buffy?" Giles asked curiously, folding his arms across his chest.
"BJB here was attacked by a vamp," Buffy said. "I got there in the nick."
"Yes," James said, casting her a sidelong glance. "The young lady indeed assisted me in my trouble, and for that I'm very grateful, as I've already told her."
"Sure," snorted Buffy. "Nothing says 'thank you' like . . . *not*. . . saying it."
"Really? She saved you from a vampire?" said Anya, leaning forward on the counter, her head in her hands. "Did you cry?"
"Certainly not."
"Anya," scolded Giles. "Now . . . James, you're clearly not a native, so may I ask what brought you to California?"
"I'm a British government agent," James explained, "and I am on a mission to recover the Karlotte family diamond."
"Oh . . . oh, yes, I see," Giles said, nodding his head in realization.
"Yeah," Buffy chimed in. "I say we find the diamond as soon as possible and get them BOTH on a plane and out of the country. Emphasis on 'as soon as possible.'"
"Buffy, do try to be civil." Giles turned back to James and said, rather solemnly, "Are you aware that the Karlotte diamond possesses certain powers?"
"My supervisor informed me of that myth, yes."
"Sadly, it's no myth. Would you care to take a seat, James?"
"Yes, thank you very much," James said, sliding into the chair that Giles offered him. As Giles was going to close the store up for the evening, Anya leaned forward on the counter again and said, "Hey, boss? Are you locking up? Are we closed?"
"Yes, Anya. In light of the circumstances, I feel that I shouldn't carry on business for the--"
"Great! I was getting antsy to go, considering the zero customers and everything." Anya gathered up her coat and her bag and came out from behind the counter.
"Where're you going?" Buffy asked.
"Over Xander's place. He came over earlier, but I told him I had to work. ME, working! Actually having to earn a living! One of the unfortunate side effects of being a stupid mortal."
James raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Yeah, so I'm gonna go see Xander," Anya said, heading towards the door. "We'll hang out, maybe have some coffee, *definitely* have some sex--"
Giles gave Anya a gentle shove towards the door. "That'll do, Anya. Goodbye. Good night. And be careful!"
He locked the door behind her.
James let his breath out in a puzzled whoosh. "Simply delightful," he remarked.
"Yes," said Giles. "God help me."
Just then, a voice unmistakably that of a young girl rang out from the back room of the magic shop: "Hey! Who are you guys talking to?"
Buffy, surprised, looked to Giles. "Dawn's here? What is Dawn doing here?" she asked.
"Ah . . . yes, well, due to the information we've received about Glory, the Council and I thought it would be good for your sister to be under some sort of protection whenever possible. And considering that Joyce will be working until later tonight, she asked if I would be so kind as to keep an eye on her."
Another voice from the back room filled the store, this one male and very heavily British: "Keep it down, niblet, I'm tryin' t' take a kip!"
Buffy again looked to Giles. "And SPIKE is here?" she said in a sharp, accusatory tone.
"Ah . . . as I said, protection."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "So how much did you have to shell out for the Undead Babysitting Service?"
Giles cleared his throat and avoided Buffy's eyes. "I asked for his help very nicely, and therefore no money was exchanged."
The Slayer looked very carefully at Giles' face as he spoke, and her own face elongated in jubilant surprise. "Oh, my God!"
"Yes, yes, let's not discuss it, because hello, Dawn!"
Dawn Summers, Buffy's fourteen-year-old sister, came flouncing into the room wearing a curious expression.
"Hey. What's going on?" she asked.
"Oh, God," moaned James, obviously vexed at the idea of children hanging around.
"Excuse me, do you have a problem?" Buffy snapped at him.
"Actually, yes. I have a problem with my time being wasted! If we could kindly carry on, I can solve this case and be blessedly rid of you!"
Dawn curled her lip and looked at James. "Ew. What's your deal?"
"Please," Giles broke in. "James is right. Let's put all hostile feelings aside and find this wretched diamond."
"And exactly what diamond would this be?" said Spike, casually sauntering in behind the front counter, a cigarette dangling from his lips. While he waited for an answer, he took his metal lighter out of his pocket, flipped it open, and lit the cigarette.
"Spike, I asked you not to do that in here," said Giles, as though speaking to a young son.
Spike sucked the smoke down into his dead lungs and blew the excess out into the store. "Why don'tcha ask me as nicely as y'did last time, Rupert?" he growled, rubbing his throbbing jaw. Spotting James, he asked, "And who's this, all dressed up with somewhere t' go?"
Buffy obliged. "James Bond, let me introduce my sister Dawn, and Spike, a murderous vampire that I should have staked a long time ago."
Spike frowned, and James looked at him skeptically.
"Once again, with the vampires," the secret agent said, his comment directed at Buffy. "I ask you, miss, what exactly are you trying to accomplish with this charade?"
"Oh, I get it now!" Spike said in an abrasive, sarcastic tone. It was painfully clear that he did not like James at all. "Mr. Gucci Shoes 'ere doesn't b'lieve in vampires. Well, I'll tell y'what, fancy boy, if I didn't 'ave this bloody chip in me cranium, I'd show ya . . . ."
Dawn glanced at him quickly. No one saw her smile.
Giles smartly cut Spike off. "The first thing you need to realize before we go any further," he said to James, "is that Sunnydale isn't quite like any other town you've been to."
"I've been told," James interrupted, glancing at Buffy. He looked amused. "And why is that? The vampires?"
The ever-impatient Spike, already fed up with this stranger's suspicions, motivated himself to put the intruder in his proper place. He put his cigarette down in an ashtray, picked up a small compact mirror that Anya must have left behind, and went to kneel down beside the chair that James was seated in.
"All right, Jim, let's take a look at that pretty mug o' yers, eh?" Spike held the mirror up so that James' face was reflected in it. "It's a beauty, ain't it, guv? Now let's check out ol' Spike, who, mind you, is equally attractive, if not more so." Holding the mirror at arm's length, he moved it away from James and to the left, toward himself. He passed it right by his head, and all James saw were the shelves, the walls, and the wares of the back of the store.
James' brows furrowed, and the corners of mouth were pulled slowly downward by the weight of understanding. All the legends and stories he'd heard growing up about vampires flooded back to him…the evils he faced on his routine missions were unspeakable enough, but to think that these creatures of the night actually walked the earth was virtually incomprehensible. Spike was still admiring his non-existent reflection, when James looked back and forth between Giles and Buffy.
"So…it's true," he said, very quietly.
"Give the man a cookie," Buffy said sarcastically.
Instead of getting angry, James just stared at the girl.
"Who are you?" he murmured.
"I am SO confused right now," said Dawn.
Spike got to his feet and retrieved the cigarette that sat burning in the ashtray on the counter.
"Tell ya what, lit'l bit," he said to Dawn, taking what was the last puff on his cigarette. He stamped the butt out on the counter, right next to the ashtray, secretly hoping that Giles had been watching. "What say you an' I go out fer a walk about town."
Speaking for Dawn, Buffy said, "No!"
"Why not?" the younger Summers complained.
"Because I don't trust him with you," Buffy said, looking pointedly at Spike.
James just watched them argue, still thoroughly overwhelmed by the information he had just received.
"Christ, Goldilocks, what in bloody hell d'you think I'm gonna do to 'er?" bickered Spike. He tapped his platinum hair as if to remind her. "I'm still all fish 'n' chips up 'ere, remember?"
"Buffy, you probably don't want to hear this," Giles put in, "but I do believe it would be for the best. After all, we have rather urgent business to attend to."
"Uh-huh. Business as usual," Dawn said corrosively. "Whatever! They NEVER want me around, Spike." She stomped off to the back room to fetch her coat.
"I know th' feelin', Dawnie," Spike said, partly to Buffy.
She glared hard at the demon. "You'd better protect her with your pathetic, worthless life," she snarled, "because if anyone lays a finger on her I'll kill you a hundred and fifty times before you hit the ground."
Spike looked back at her. His delicate features were devoid of expression; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
"We'll go out th' back door," he said. He sounded almost offended. With that, he stalked off and headed to where Dawn was waiting for him.
"I just don't understand," James said as if apologizing, when Giles and Buffy had at last taken their seats.
"There's a LOT you don't understand," said Buffy, at once both malicious and sympathetic.
"Well, ah, l-let's get started then, shall we?" Giles offered. He opened a book and pushed his glasses further up onto the bridge of his nose.
"Please," said James.
!~!~!-- to be continued... --!~!~!
Author: La Vie Boheme96
Chapter Title: "Closing Time"
*Author's Note: For your general information (there's been some confusion!), I have the striking Pierce Brosnan in mind for Bond as I'm writing this story. ^_^ *
The bells that adorned the Magic Box door jingled merrily, signaling the arrival of Buffy and James. The drive from the forest to the local magic shop had been excruciatingly silent, and Buffy was grateful for the presence of people she could actually bear talking to for more than five minutes.
Giles sat behind the front counter, his elegant nose--as usual--trapped in a book. Anya, Xander's exceptionally blunt girlfriend, was seated next to the Watcher, manning the cash register, and had been ready to fall asleep before Buffy and James showed up. The ringing bells pried Giles away from his book and ended Anya's flirtation with slumber.
"Well hello, Buffy," the Watcher said. He looked at James. "A friend?" he inquired of the Slayer.
"Oh. Yeah. We're like this," muttered Buffy, making a wide "V" with the index and middle fingers of her right hand. "Bond James Bond, this is Rupert Giles. That's Anya. She--and I use this term loosely--works here."
"Hi! You're very pretty," Anya said, pumping James' hand vigorously.
"Ah . . . a pleasure, miss."
James and Giles also greeted each other with a handshake, and the former said, "Good to meet you, Mr. Giles."
"Likewise, Mr. Bond. I prefer just plain Giles."
James in turn welcomed Giles to call him by his Christian name.
"So why have you decided to grace the Magic Box with this man's company, Buffy?" Giles asked curiously, folding his arms across his chest.
"BJB here was attacked by a vamp," Buffy said. "I got there in the nick."
"Yes," James said, casting her a sidelong glance. "The young lady indeed assisted me in my trouble, and for that I'm very grateful, as I've already told her."
"Sure," snorted Buffy. "Nothing says 'thank you' like . . . *not*. . . saying it."
"Really? She saved you from a vampire?" said Anya, leaning forward on the counter, her head in her hands. "Did you cry?"
"Certainly not."
"Anya," scolded Giles. "Now . . . James, you're clearly not a native, so may I ask what brought you to California?"
"I'm a British government agent," James explained, "and I am on a mission to recover the Karlotte family diamond."
"Oh . . . oh, yes, I see," Giles said, nodding his head in realization.
"Yeah," Buffy chimed in. "I say we find the diamond as soon as possible and get them BOTH on a plane and out of the country. Emphasis on 'as soon as possible.'"
"Buffy, do try to be civil." Giles turned back to James and said, rather solemnly, "Are you aware that the Karlotte diamond possesses certain powers?"
"My supervisor informed me of that myth, yes."
"Sadly, it's no myth. Would you care to take a seat, James?"
"Yes, thank you very much," James said, sliding into the chair that Giles offered him. As Giles was going to close the store up for the evening, Anya leaned forward on the counter again and said, "Hey, boss? Are you locking up? Are we closed?"
"Yes, Anya. In light of the circumstances, I feel that I shouldn't carry on business for the--"
"Great! I was getting antsy to go, considering the zero customers and everything." Anya gathered up her coat and her bag and came out from behind the counter.
"Where're you going?" Buffy asked.
"Over Xander's place. He came over earlier, but I told him I had to work. ME, working! Actually having to earn a living! One of the unfortunate side effects of being a stupid mortal."
James raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"Yeah, so I'm gonna go see Xander," Anya said, heading towards the door. "We'll hang out, maybe have some coffee, *definitely* have some sex--"
Giles gave Anya a gentle shove towards the door. "That'll do, Anya. Goodbye. Good night. And be careful!"
He locked the door behind her.
James let his breath out in a puzzled whoosh. "Simply delightful," he remarked.
"Yes," said Giles. "God help me."
Just then, a voice unmistakably that of a young girl rang out from the back room of the magic shop: "Hey! Who are you guys talking to?"
Buffy, surprised, looked to Giles. "Dawn's here? What is Dawn doing here?" she asked.
"Ah . . . yes, well, due to the information we've received about Glory, the Council and I thought it would be good for your sister to be under some sort of protection whenever possible. And considering that Joyce will be working until later tonight, she asked if I would be so kind as to keep an eye on her."
Another voice from the back room filled the store, this one male and very heavily British: "Keep it down, niblet, I'm tryin' t' take a kip!"
Buffy again looked to Giles. "And SPIKE is here?" she said in a sharp, accusatory tone.
"Ah . . . as I said, protection."
Buffy rolled her eyes. "So how much did you have to shell out for the Undead Babysitting Service?"
Giles cleared his throat and avoided Buffy's eyes. "I asked for his help very nicely, and therefore no money was exchanged."
The Slayer looked very carefully at Giles' face as he spoke, and her own face elongated in jubilant surprise. "Oh, my God!"
"Yes, yes, let's not discuss it, because hello, Dawn!"
Dawn Summers, Buffy's fourteen-year-old sister, came flouncing into the room wearing a curious expression.
"Hey. What's going on?" she asked.
"Oh, God," moaned James, obviously vexed at the idea of children hanging around.
"Excuse me, do you have a problem?" Buffy snapped at him.
"Actually, yes. I have a problem with my time being wasted! If we could kindly carry on, I can solve this case and be blessedly rid of you!"
Dawn curled her lip and looked at James. "Ew. What's your deal?"
"Please," Giles broke in. "James is right. Let's put all hostile feelings aside and find this wretched diamond."
"And exactly what diamond would this be?" said Spike, casually sauntering in behind the front counter, a cigarette dangling from his lips. While he waited for an answer, he took his metal lighter out of his pocket, flipped it open, and lit the cigarette.
"Spike, I asked you not to do that in here," said Giles, as though speaking to a young son.
Spike sucked the smoke down into his dead lungs and blew the excess out into the store. "Why don'tcha ask me as nicely as y'did last time, Rupert?" he growled, rubbing his throbbing jaw. Spotting James, he asked, "And who's this, all dressed up with somewhere t' go?"
Buffy obliged. "James Bond, let me introduce my sister Dawn, and Spike, a murderous vampire that I should have staked a long time ago."
Spike frowned, and James looked at him skeptically.
"Once again, with the vampires," the secret agent said, his comment directed at Buffy. "I ask you, miss, what exactly are you trying to accomplish with this charade?"
"Oh, I get it now!" Spike said in an abrasive, sarcastic tone. It was painfully clear that he did not like James at all. "Mr. Gucci Shoes 'ere doesn't b'lieve in vampires. Well, I'll tell y'what, fancy boy, if I didn't 'ave this bloody chip in me cranium, I'd show ya . . . ."
Dawn glanced at him quickly. No one saw her smile.
Giles smartly cut Spike off. "The first thing you need to realize before we go any further," he said to James, "is that Sunnydale isn't quite like any other town you've been to."
"I've been told," James interrupted, glancing at Buffy. He looked amused. "And why is that? The vampires?"
The ever-impatient Spike, already fed up with this stranger's suspicions, motivated himself to put the intruder in his proper place. He put his cigarette down in an ashtray, picked up a small compact mirror that Anya must have left behind, and went to kneel down beside the chair that James was seated in.
"All right, Jim, let's take a look at that pretty mug o' yers, eh?" Spike held the mirror up so that James' face was reflected in it. "It's a beauty, ain't it, guv? Now let's check out ol' Spike, who, mind you, is equally attractive, if not more so." Holding the mirror at arm's length, he moved it away from James and to the left, toward himself. He passed it right by his head, and all James saw were the shelves, the walls, and the wares of the back of the store.
James' brows furrowed, and the corners of mouth were pulled slowly downward by the weight of understanding. All the legends and stories he'd heard growing up about vampires flooded back to him…the evils he faced on his routine missions were unspeakable enough, but to think that these creatures of the night actually walked the earth was virtually incomprehensible. Spike was still admiring his non-existent reflection, when James looked back and forth between Giles and Buffy.
"So…it's true," he said, very quietly.
"Give the man a cookie," Buffy said sarcastically.
Instead of getting angry, James just stared at the girl.
"Who are you?" he murmured.
"I am SO confused right now," said Dawn.
Spike got to his feet and retrieved the cigarette that sat burning in the ashtray on the counter.
"Tell ya what, lit'l bit," he said to Dawn, taking what was the last puff on his cigarette. He stamped the butt out on the counter, right next to the ashtray, secretly hoping that Giles had been watching. "What say you an' I go out fer a walk about town."
Speaking for Dawn, Buffy said, "No!"
"Why not?" the younger Summers complained.
"Because I don't trust him with you," Buffy said, looking pointedly at Spike.
James just watched them argue, still thoroughly overwhelmed by the information he had just received.
"Christ, Goldilocks, what in bloody hell d'you think I'm gonna do to 'er?" bickered Spike. He tapped his platinum hair as if to remind her. "I'm still all fish 'n' chips up 'ere, remember?"
"Buffy, you probably don't want to hear this," Giles put in, "but I do believe it would be for the best. After all, we have rather urgent business to attend to."
"Uh-huh. Business as usual," Dawn said corrosively. "Whatever! They NEVER want me around, Spike." She stomped off to the back room to fetch her coat.
"I know th' feelin', Dawnie," Spike said, partly to Buffy.
She glared hard at the demon. "You'd better protect her with your pathetic, worthless life," she snarled, "because if anyone lays a finger on her I'll kill you a hundred and fifty times before you hit the ground."
Spike looked back at her. His delicate features were devoid of expression; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
"We'll go out th' back door," he said. He sounded almost offended. With that, he stalked off and headed to where Dawn was waiting for him.
"I just don't understand," James said as if apologizing, when Giles and Buffy had at last taken their seats.
"There's a LOT you don't understand," said Buffy, at once both malicious and sympathetic.
"Well, ah, l-let's get started then, shall we?" Giles offered. He opened a book and pushed his glasses further up onto the bridge of his nose.
"Please," said James.
!~!~!-- to be continued... --!~!~!