CRADLE
Disclaimer, etc. as on Chapter One.
A/N: I love feedback. And because I'm nice and craving reviews (and because the reviewers here are all alive, unlike the "Farscape" peeps), I'm providing you with more. Just be glad I'd already written Chapter 2. This one's a little longer to keep you going til I finish Chapter 3. The angst begins here. Sorta… Please R&R.
Cradle
Chapter Two
Sunnydale, several days later…
In the basement of the Summers' house, it sounded as if a war was being waged. Alongside the occasional grunts and, for want of a better word, war-cries, several crashes, clangs and thuds could also be heard. Every so often, the foundations of the kitchen and lounge would judder slightly. So far, all of the pipes and brickwork were still intact, but it would only be a matter of time before they weren't.
It wasn't, in fact, a war, and the only demons being fought down there were, for once, imaginary. With the destruction of the Magic Box, Buffy's basement had become a makeshift training room until it could be re-built. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite as strong as it seemed, and it definitely wasn't soundproof. The current occupants of the house were having to live with the noise, and patience was wearing thin.
Training, luckily, was almost over…
"Ha!! Take that!" yelled a small, flailing mass of vaguely female-shaped limbs as they planted a hefty kick in the stomach of a home-made training dummy. It wobbled, then fell over from the force. The limbs stopped moving and formed into a body, the face of which grinned triumphantly. "How was that? Pretty neat, huh?"
Giles, ex-librarian and ex-Watcher, cautiously re-emerged from the pile of boxes behind which he'd chosen to take refuge, and began his mandatory cleaning-of-the-glasses. Apparently, he had got them with him after all. Putting them back on, he examined the dummy on the floor and the various broken pieces of wood scattered about the room. "Yes… uh… very good. Very… messy."
"What, I'm meant to fight things and keep the place tidy? Should I carry around a Dust-Buster to suck up all the vamp remains, too?"
"Ah… yes, I see your point."
"Anyway, what do you reckon? Do I have potential, or do I have potential?" she asked, a little rhetorically. Giles bent to pick up the felled dummy, which promptly fell over again because the stand was neatly snapped in half from the force of the last blow to hit it.
"Judging by this, I'd certainly say your strength is… admirable…"
The conversation was then cut short by the sound of the door opening, to Giles' relief. The female silhouette began to descend the stairs and came into view, a white take-out bag in one hand, and a Double Meat Palace hat in the other. "Hey, guys."
"Hello, Buffy."
The Slayer reached the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the debris. "Whoa, what happened in here? World War III?"
Her sister looked a combination of sheepish and very proud of herself. "I was just showing Giles how I helped you kill all those nasties in the crypt."
Buffy adopted her very best "mom" expression. "Dawn, I told you; you are not going to be a backup Slayer."
"Actually, Buffy, it was partly my fault," said Giles, saving the sixteen-year-old from a grilling. "When she told me about the earth-monsters I admit to being a tad curious. You should be proud of her; she has remarkable skill and strength."
"All right," said Buffy, the admonishment only partially over. "This time I'll let you off, but don't expect Giles to keep baling your ass out." Dawn didn't look very impressed, but she left the matter alone for the time being. "Now, come on. Come get dinner while it's good 'n' greasy." Dawn ran up the stairs ahead of her sister and disappeared into the kitchen. Giles stayed behind to attempt to tidy up the mess of broken wood that she'd left behind. At the top of the stairs, Buffy stopped and waited for him, then called down. "Giles, leave it."
Giles looked up from the floor. "Are you sure? I feel somewhat responsible for this mess."
"I'm sure. I'll tidy it later; if I don't, I'm sure Willow will."
Conceding defeat, Giles started up the stairs after her. "Ah, yes… how… how is Willow?"
Once in the kitchen, he closed the door behind them. Dawn was sitting at the island contemplating the DMP bag, deciding whether or not she was hungry enough to eat it for a fifth night in a row. She wasn't.
"Hey, Buffy?"
"Yeah, Dawn?"
"I'm really not that hungry… I mean, I appreciate it, but…" She trailed off, an apologetic look on her face.
"It's okay. Tomorrow we'll have real food, I promise." Dawn smiled gratefully, and headed for her room, realising she was tired from her 'training' in the basement. Buffy took her place and peered into the bag. "If she doesn't want it, I might as well eat it…" As she reached into the bag, a memory struck of the last time Dawn had refused to eat any more DMP burgers. 'It looks kinda squished…' Remembering with horrible clarity exactly why it was 'squished' caused her to scrunch the bag shut again and push it to the far edge of the counter. Off Giles' slightly confused expression, she hastily explained: "Ugh… I had this stuff for lunch. Guess I can't cope with it, either… You want?"
Giles waved off the invitation with his hand. "Thank you, but… no." After a pause, he remembered his original question. "Willow… how is she?"
Getting up, Buffy filled two glasses of water from the sink, handed one to Giles, then raked a hand through her fry-greasy hair. "She's doing okay, I guess. As okay as can be expected for someone who nearly ended the world… She just has these occasional freak-outs – I'll come home and find she's cleaned every single room. I guess it's a security thing. If it wasn't so helpful, I'd be more worried." She sipped the water gratefully, having been surviving on soft drinks all day at work. "Xander's been great, though. He's about the only one she'll talk to."
"Has Anya forgiven him for the wedding?"
"I don't know. If she has, neither of them have mentioned it. I think he's still kinda freaked out from the whole saving-the-world deal."
"Understandable…" Buffy nodded in agreement. "And what about you?"
"What about me?"
Giles examined the floor as he approached what promised to be a difficult subject. What had been hilarious in a moment of desperation was now no laughing matter. "You… a-and Spike."
Buffy suppressed a cringe. She'd spent the time since his disappearance trying very hard to forget about him, but things kept cropping up to remind her. "I wondered when we'd have this conversation for real…" She was getting tired of explanations – to herself, to her friends, and now to Giles, the one person she'd hoped she wouldn't have to explain to. Her ex-Watcher took a seat opposite her and let her take her time. "Me and Spike… was a mistake. A really, really big mistake, one which I should have fixed straight away."
"Why didn't you?"
"I don't know… Spike, he's… he's difficult to avoid. He doesn't listen. He's my sworn enemy; always has been." She wasn't even convincing herself by this point. "And he… he had this power over me. I just kept going back." She put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands, rubbing away a headache she could feel forming. "God, Giles… why did you have to go and leave?"
This took him slightly by surprise, but he suddenly understood. "You mean this… this all happened after I left? Right after?"
Buffy looked up again and nodded. "Yup. Give or take a kiss or two." Realising that sounded worse spoken than in her head, she backed up. "I was upset, so I turned to Spike again."
"Again?"
Another nod. "Right after I came back, he was the only one I could talk to. Don't ask me to explain why. I guess… because I knew he wouldn't tell everyone. He understood somehow. And he didn't expect me to be happy, glad-to-be-alive Buffy, either."
Probably unconsciously, Giles removed his glasses again and began to clean them with the ever-present handkerchief. Focussing all his attention on attending to a particularly stubborn fingerprint, and not meeting Buffy's gaze, he said, "I see… um… you'll forgive me for saying this, but that doesn't sound like a particularly, uh, conducive reason for… sleeping with him."
"I know." Irritated, she snatched the handkerchief from his grasp. "Either look me in the eye or don't talk to me at all, Giles. I'm sick of it."
Giles looked up, replacing his glasses. "Sorry…"
"All anyone ever did was avoid my gaze because they couldn't stand the fact that I wasn't happy. They didn't want to accept they'd done the wrong thing. At least Spike could look me in the eye." She frowned. "God, why do I keep defending him? The truth of the matter is, it just happened. One minute we were fighting, and the next…"
Her ex-Watcher nodded understandingly, then registered what she'd said. "You were fighting? Both of you?"
"Yeah…"
"What about his chip?" She'd forgotten that she hadn't yet told Giles about Spike's being able to hurt her. Sighing, she summarised what Tara had discovered as best she could explain it. "I… see…" he said again, slowly. This was proving rather too much to take in at once. He hadn't realised exactly how much had gone on while he was away. Suddenly, he realised he no longer knew his Slayer, and hadn't since her return; had he never left, they might not be having this conversation at all.
"Anyway," said Buffy, feeling as if she'd explained too much for one night, "now he's gone, and I should be happy about it… but I'm not. I keep expecting him to start following me at the cemetery… or come bursting through that door in the middle of the morning, half on fire…"
She trailed off, hating Spike for being the cause of so many of her problems, and hating herself even more for actually missing him. After a brief silence, during which Giles had processed all of the information he'd been given, he spoke up. "Buffy… you're not going to like me asking this, but I have to clear something up."
She knew what was coming, but said, "Shoot."
"Do you… love him?" She didn't answer, a similar conversation with Tara ringing through her mind. Giles continued to prod. "O-or are you… in love with him?"
"I-"
"It's just… I know you, Buffy. I know you wouldn't… um… do that… if you didn't love someone."
Looking sorrowfully across the kitchen table at him, she realised he was right. She knew she had to tell him about what else had happened – Spike and Anya, and the Incident in her bathroom, which was probably the cause of Spike's leaving – but she wasn't ready just yet. He seemed to be having enough trouble understanding the tip of the iceberg, and trying to tell him any more was going to take several long hours.
Without another word, Buffy got up from the table and left the kitchen. Giles watched her go, then let out a heavy sigh. He wanted to sort out everybody's problems – help Anya fund the rebuilding of the Magic Box, assist Xander in breaking through Willow's barriers, be lenient with Dawn, and, more than anything, make Buffy see sense about Spike – but he knew he should stay clear. With the exception of Dawn, they were all adults…
…Adults who had gone through Hell and come out again more times than he could remember. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to solve their problems a little. After all, between them, they'd prevented an apocalypse. That was a big enough problem for anyone to sort out alone…
To be continued…
More coming when I've finished Chapter 3. Thanks for the positive reviews. First fics in new fanbases are so nerve-wracking…
