CHAPTER FIFTEEN: WILLOW
Saturday: 11am10th January 1998
California: Sunnydale
Beth hadn't told Giles about her encounter with Xander, and she had no intention of telling her Watcher that she had slayed a vampire in front of someone. She hadn't seen him since, though that could have been because she was avoiding the Bronze and sticking to the cemeteries for her patrols. She sometimes patrolled the outside of the Bronze, waiting for vampires to lure victims outside.
Two weeks later, she was walking down the main street once more. She saw him walking towards her and quickly ducked into the nearest open building that she passed by. She watched subtly as he walked past the store. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to see where she had ended up.
It looked like some sort of a museum. She smiled and walked inside. Her studies at the Council had made her appreciate older items of historical value a lot more than most teenagers her age. She walked around taking in the ancient artefacts, surprised that she actually recognised some of them.
She heard a voice from behind her and whirled around.
"They're pretty amazing aren't they?" a redheaded girl said, pointing towards an old jousting set. Beth smiled at her and nodded.
Beth noticed the nametag adorning the girl's collar. Willow.
"Were you looking for anything in particular?" Willow asked her.
"Uh, no not really. Just browsing," she replied.
Willow nodded and gave the blonde girl a smile. "I can't blame you. I'm in here for work all the time, but I still love just looking around. It's just so amazing."
Beth grinned and turned back to the display.
"You know, the knights had to have about three people to help them onto their horses cos their army was too heavy for them," Beth said with a grin. She had always loved the image that the fact had conjured.
"Can you imagine having to wear something like that in the sun?" Willow added with a small giggle.
"I just can't get over that these guys used to fight for sport," Beth said. "Why bother if you're gonna wear tons of armour? It's so…pointless."
Willow smiled at the unintentional pun. "I think that's why they wore the armour…to make sure the points weren't anywhere near their skin," she joked.
Beth smiled and looked at the red-headed girl. She was slightly taller, which wasn't a hard feat, seeing as Beth was still only around 5'2".
"Willow, huh?" Beth said. "I'm Beth."
Willow held out her hand for Beth to shake, which she promptly did. "Nice to meet you Beth. Are you new to Sunnydale?"
Beth nodded. "Yeah, I just moved here."
"Are you at school or college?"
"Neither actually. Home schooled," she replied.
Willow's eyes went wide. "You're not one of those scary religious types are you?" she asked. She took in the elegant Celtic cross that adorned Beth's neck and wondered whether she had inadvertently said the wrong thing.
"No," Beth replied with a laugh. "My uncle just doesn't trust the American schooling system."
"Oh? Where's your uncle from?"
"England," Beth replied. "I grew up there. Well, I travelled around a lot for the last year and a bit, but, I moved to England when I was about five."
"But you're from the US originally, aren't you? You've still got a hint of American accent in you," Willow said.
"Yeah. From LA I think," Beth replied. "I can't really remember."
Willow nodded. "So, why do you live with your uncle?"
Beth looked away and Willow felt a pang of guilt run through her.
"You'll uh…you'll have to forgive me. I tend to speak without thinking first. You don't hafta answer, I'm just…I ramble when I get nervous, and then badness happens. See, usually my boyfriend's here to stop me, but seeing as he's not here, I'm just keeping on going. And…stopping now."
Beth couldn't help but laugh.
"It's okay Willow," she said. "My parents died when I was little, and Uncle Giles got custody."
Willow nodded, her face still slightly red from the embarrassment of her outburst. Willow looked at her watch and let out a small 'eep'. Beth looked at her curiously.
"I gotta run. My break just finished, and Mrs Stanton is a slave driver," Willow said. "It was nice meeting you."
Beth went to return the sentiment, but Willow had already taken off at a run towards the offices. Beth grinned and shook her head as Willow went into one of the offices. Beth went to a different display and looked down at the two carefully polished broadswords displayed there. Giles would have a field day in this museum. She grinned a little at that thought and went to leave when she was stopped by a kind voice.
"Did you need any help?"
Beth turned to see who had spoken. She smiled politely and shook her head. "Just looking," she said.
"Well, if you need any help, just give us a yell. I'm Joyce Stanton, the curator here," she said.
"Nice to meet you Mrs Stanton," Beth said politely. Her Council training had certainly come in handy. Her manners were impeccable, as Giles always told her.
"Oh, please, it's just Joyce," she replied.
"Joyce," Beth repeated. "Now that I think about it, I wanted to ask you about a painting you had displayed in the front hall."
"The Bradley?" Joyce asked.
Beth nodded.
"I need a gift for my uncle," she explained. "It's his birthday soon, and…he insists that he doesn't want anything, but…"
Joyce smiled and led the girl towards the front of the store. They stood in front of the painting.
"It's lovely isn't it?" Joyce said, staring at it. "It's of-"
"Northern England, yes, I know. He grew up there, you see, and now we're in California, I'd like to be able to give him a small piece of home," she explained. "He loves Bradley's work. Not as much as Lenard's, of course, but that's a given."
Joyce looked at the young girl in amazement.
"You really know your artwork, don't you?" she asked.
Beth smiled humbly. "I spent a lot of time around art when I was growing up. At first it was just…there, you know. But then it became something of a hobby for me."
Joyce hesitated a moment before making an executive decision. "There's a position vacant here, and I need someone who knows about art to work here. Would you be interested?"
Beth's face lit up, but the went down just as quickly. "I don't know how long my uncle and I are in Sunnydale for."
Joyce shrugged. "That's alright. If you had to leave, I could find someone else. I just really need another staff member right now."
Beth nodded hesitantly. "I couldn't work on Saturdays though. Sundays and weekdays are fine."
"Oh, you don't go to school?" Joyce asked.
"No, not really. I completed my studies in England," Beth explained.
Joyce nodded and shook Beth's hand. "Well then. I could use someone for Sundays, Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Welcome to the staff of the Stanton gallery."
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Beth approached her Watcher cautiously. She knew that he would chuck a fit when she told him that she had got a job working in an art gallery. Although, he might think that it was a good idea so that she could keep an eye out for any books that the Council might wish to purchase.
She sat beside him, casting glances towards him every few seconds. She was unable to catch his eye though, and she didn't know whether that was good or bad. Several minutes passed before Giles sighed and asked her what she wanted, not bothering to look up from his paper.
"Giles, I…I kinda accepted a job," she admitted.
He looked up sharply, his paper forgotten. "A job?"
She nodded guiltily.
"Good heavens, why?" he asked. "No Slayer has ever wanted a job before."
She shrugged. "I'm going crazy not doing anything. I was actually gonna ask you if I could go back to school," she said.
"But you never had any problems in Russia or Ireland when you weren't doing anything," he said.
"Yeah, and there's only so much of it that I can take. And it wasn't like I had a choice when we were in Russia and Romania. I couldn't speak the language so it was hard for me to do anything. But, I can actually understand people now," she explained.
He thought for a moment and gave a small sigh. It was true that she was going crazy in the house. He had had to send her out earlier that day because she had been driving him insane as well.
"What exactly is this job?" he asked.
"It's at an art gallery. I went in there this morning, and…well, I met the curator, and we got to talking about the merits of Bradley versus Lenard, and…it kinda snowballed from there," she admitted.
"A gallery, you say," he said thoughtfully. "Well, I don't see why there should be a problem with that. As long as they know that you may not be here permanently. The Council can call at any time."
"I told that to Joyce," she said. "Well, not the part about the Council of course, but the part about us not being here very long. She said she didn't mind."
"Well, I don't mind you working there."
Beth grinned and stood up, a bounce in her step. She finally had something more in her life than the Slaying.
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Joyce lay in bed beside her husband Tim, drifting peacefully to sleep. She gasped at the sudden thought that popped randomly into her mind. She hadn't asked the young woman what her name was before hiring her. With a small laugh at her own forgetfulness, Joyce Summers-Stanton drifted back to sleep with thoughts of her husband and her ten-year-old daughter Dawn filling her mind. Behind the surface happiness though, a part of her still mourned for her missing daughter Buffy. She sighed and snuggled closer to Tim, hoping that he could ease the hurt that still plagued her.