TITLE: Haunting Revenge

AUTHOR: Erin Giles

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters from Btvs belong to me. They are the property of Joss Whedon, UPN, ME, etc etc. I do however own Joanne So :P

DISTRIBUTION: Fanfiction.net and HeadQuarters, other than that please have the courtesy to ask before taking!

SUMMARY: England, 2001. The past has a habit of creeping up on Rupert Giles. But this time it turns up on his doorstep, and it's out for revenge.

NOTES: Set after Tabula Rasa. I know he said he had a small flat in Bath but we'll just ignore that minor detail shall we?

FEEDBACK: Do you want me to get on my knees and beg? Okay then… *gets down on knees and begs* Please, please, please, please, PLEASE give me feedback!

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*~*~*~*~* Chapter 1 *~*~*~*~*

Rupert Giles pulled his jacket around him as he walked down the darkening streets of the little village that he had lived in for all those years ago as a child. He had been to the only small pub in the village and was now making his way home through the wet, cold and lonely streets back to his family house.

There had been a power cut in the village earlier in the night and everyone had seemed to congregate in the small pub, with only candles and the fireplace for light as people sat in huddled groups, whispering to each other as if conspiring.

Giles as usual had kept himself to himself, preferring his own company and misery, only bothered once by one of the patrons looking for a spare chair. As usual he was debating whether leaving Sunnydale had been a wise decision and as usual he was left divided. On the outside it appeared that he had made the right decision; he could convince himself Buffy was coping just fine without him, yet deep down he knew otherwise. He knew that it would be hard for her to stand on her own two feet without stumbling and falling but she had to learn. Leaving her didn't ease the pain of knowing she was this way but it was the only way things would ever change.

He speeded up his pace and reached the gate at the bottom of the drive. His family's house was on the edge of the village and by far the biggest there. He lifted the latch on the gate and opened it. It squeaked loudly straining against the effort, it had after all been out of use for over thirty years at least. He was surprised that not one person had shown any interest in the house; it was after all a beautiful house. Yet there seemed to be something about it that every time someone entered the house they looked about nervously. Giles didn't have a problem with the house at all though. It was home to him and always would be.

He walked across the gardens to the house and up the steps to the old front door. He pulled the keys out his pocket and opened the door as the rain bounced harder off the porch roof. He was glad to be getting inside away from the cold and the rain. The heating was on but it still took a lot to heat such an old large house.

Giles pulled his soaking wet jacket from round his shoulders and hung it over the coat rack. He ran his fingers through his sodden hair and went into the study at the back of the house. It was already fairly warm in there compared to the rest of the house, but Giles lit a fire in the fireplace there to heat up the room more. He planned on staying up a bit longer, he had no reason to get up early tomorrow and he had no desire of going to bed at the moment. He knelt down beside the fire once he had lit it, and rubbed his hands warming them as steam rose off his soaking wet clothes. He pulled his jumper off and hung it over the clothes rack beside the fire to dry off and kicked his shoes off putting them beside the fire too. He pulled his socks off that stuck to his feet and hung them over the clothes rack too.

With his clothes steaming nicely beside the fire he went over to his father's desk and picked up a book he had been reading since he had got home from America last week. The rest of the study was piled with boxes full of books he had brought back from the states. It seemed odd to be bringing them home. Most of them he had left at the Magic Box to be used by Buffy and everyone for research purposes, but there were a few he had brought home. The boxes lying about and the clothes hanging by the fire reminded him of the day the watcher's council had relocated due to the flooding of the old headquarters. His father had been sent home with a large amount of books, and now most of them lined the wall of the study.

*~*~*~*~*


13th September 1961



"No, you're going to smash it…"

"Smash what? There's nothing to smash… just these bloody books." The box dropped on the gravel drive with a thud,

"See, nothing to smash!"

"No, but Mr. Travers won't be happy if his books are all wet." The young man picked up the box rather hastily but the bottom was already soaking,

"What difference is it going to make, it's raining!" The young watcher's had been sent from the council to transport the books into the Giles residence.

The weather was miserable and Rupert had been sent outside by his father to get him out of the way of transporting the books. He had come round from the back of the house and watched the men drop the box, he then cast his eyes over the front of the house and caught his grandmother standing at her window and dashed round the back of the house and into the woods there.

Rupert ran in amongst the trees for at least an hour digging in the ground and doing what every little boy did when they were young. The rain still lashed down but it didn't bother Rupert.

It started to grow dark and Rupert went to the back of the house to be let in, he was bothered by the weather now. He stood there shivering from head to toe on the back step, he was drenched and had been for the past three hours. No one came to the door to let him so he continued to stand there, not daring to go round to the front of the house.

After half an hour and still no answer, he went round to the front of the house and as he passed the dining room he saw candles and the fire burning bright inside. Mr. Travers car was out the front of the house and Rupert hoped that he hadn't brought that mean boy of his, who was seven years Rupert's senior. Mr. Travers boy had always been mean to him and no one believed what Rupert said the day Quentin had thrown his fire truck in the river down the back of the house. Rupert had been punished for losing it, especially after he had been told not to take it outside.

As he was looking in the window on tiptoes his grandmother came to the window and stopped, standing there. Rupert gasped and pulled back from the window, he was in trouble now.

He turned from the window and ran round the back of the house and into the woods as a maid came to the back door calling his name,

"Master Giles!" Then he heard his mother's voice,

"Rupert?" he waited for his father's voice but it never came, and he kept running. He ran into the woods and hid behind his special tree as the rain continued to pour down soaking him, and he continued to shiver madly. His eyes closed as he continued to shiver, he was alone, and cold, and scared.

It was one of the maids who eventually found him, almost unconscious behind the tree. He was ill for over a week with hypothermia and his mother had blamed his father for it. They had rowed about the council, although then Rupert had no idea what the council was. He had heard them while he sat in the study wrapped up in blankets with the boxes pilled around him and his clothes hung over the rail steaming.

*~*~*~*~*

Just like they did now, he remembered being ill and he had never understood why he had run away; he wasn't scared of his mother or the maid, or even his father. He had never seen eye to eye with the man but that was no reason to be scared of him. Giles pulled the rug from the back of the couch that sat in the study and sat himself down on the sofa. He opened the book from where he had stopped last time and continued to read. About half way down the page there was a knock at the door, not the front door but the door to the study. Giles listened for a moment and then shook it off thinking he was hearing things, but then a second knock came followed by a voice,

"Mr. Giles?"

He pulled himself from the couch silently and went towards the door pulling it open, but the hall was empty. Puzzled, Giles went out into the hall and looked about. It was deserted apart from the flicker of the fire coming form the study. He turned back to go into the study and the door slammed too with a force that could have brought it off its hinges; but the door stayed intact. Giles tried to pry the door open again, but it was locked,

"He's ill; you know he's ill, and yet you still go out."

Giles whirled on the spot as he heard his mother's voice. The hall was dark now that the study door had closed, but then there was a light flickering at the top of the stairs and he could see shadows dancing on the landing above. Giles stepped on the bottom step as the voices continued to talk,

"He'll be fine. He's a strong lad. And I will be back by Friday. This is important."

"Everything's important with you,"

The voices were coming nearer but Giles could still not see anything,

"Everything except your son."

"Polly, take my bags out to the car."

Giles turned on the second stair as the door blew open. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet even though he did not move. Giles was becoming scared. He had heard this conversation before,

"Go then! Your mother and I will look after your son…"

The last few words echoed off the walls as the wind blew in the door and extinguished the candle that had been lit at the top of the stairs he heard a car drive off, and he raced for the door, slamming it shut.

Giles heart was pounding in his chest, as his knees gave way and he sank to the floor, leaning against the door. That was the last time he had heard his father's voice, before… Giles didn't want to finish that thought. He knew where it led. His heart continued to pound as there was a pounding on the door and Giles almost jumped six feet in the air. He stopped breathing for a moment before he realized how silly he was being, and pulled himself to his feet, still breathing heavily and his legs shaking under him. He tried to compose himself slightly, as the pounding sounded again. He unlocked the large bolted door and pulled it open slowly. He expected to see Mr. Travers Senior there with the grave news, but it wasn't. A young girl stood in the porch, drenched to the skin,

"Joanne?" he said looking at her, rather shocked. Joanne had been a resident at the council almost since she was born. The girl looked up at Giles teeth chattering,

"Hi!" she said hugging herself, as Giles stood there staring at her for a moment,

"Can I come in? It's a bit wet." She said looking back at the weather she had just come through, her soft London accent coming through. Giles suddenly came to and stepped back,

"Of course." He took Joanne by the arm and helped her into the hall, then stuck his head out the door looking about, expecting to see that black Austin thirteen with Mr. Travers and son sat in front, but there was nothing in the drive, and the gate wasn't even open. He closed the door over and turned back into the hall the study door was open again, just as he had left it, before -

"Giles? Are you okay?" Giles was brought back from where he was standing, staring at the study door,

"Yes -" his eyes turned up the stairs; the candle at the top of the stairs was alight again. He turned to Joanne,

"Let's get you dry and you can tell me why you're all the way over here." Giles led Joanne into the study and sat her down on the couch. He looked at her bag, which she placed down on the floor and opened up. She took out what looked to be a jumper, but it wasn't exactly clear. All her clothes and belongings in the bag were soaked through. She looked up at him apologetically,

"I'll go get you some dry clothes." Giles turned out the room still very shaken, and padded up the stairs with his bare feet. He reached the landing and turned into the first room on the left. It had been his mother's room, and he had chosen to sleep in it since it was the closest to the stairs and the one that he had always liked most. Giles went into the wardrobe and pulled out his bathrobe, a pair of pyjamas and a jumper for himself. He closed the wardrobe and went to the window to pull the curtains over, and then he heard crying, a loud sobbing coming from downstairs. He finished closing the curtains and pulled the jumper over his head as he came back downstairs. He went into the study again,

"Joanne? What's the matter? Why are you crying?" Joanne looked up at Giles from where she had sat herself beside the fire and already stripped herself of her shoes, socks, wet jacket and jumper,

"I wasn't crying." Joanne said looking at Giles oddly,

"Giles are you sure you're okay?" Giles handed her the clothes,

"Yes, quite sure thank you." He looked round the room and nothing looked out of place,

"Tea? Or coffee? I might be out of coffee at the moment though -" Joanne looked up at him with her striking green eyes,

"Tea's fine!" she smiled at him, her teeth still chattering and turned back to the fire. Giles left the room again and went into the kitchen switching the light on. He pulled mugs from the cupboard and put the kettle on the stove to boil.

Giles had spent the time he had in the last week tiding up the rooms that he planned to use. It mainly consisted of four rooms, a bathroom, the study, kitchen, and his mother's bedroom. It hadn't taken Giles that long to make the house habitable in those four rooms. But already he had started work on other rooms in the house clearing them out, and finding memories of the forgotten past. He had been into his room and found forgotten treasures. He had never taken the time to clear out the rooms in the house when it was given to him and his mother had always lived in a few rooms of the house until she too sadly passed when he was forty-two. He had never wanted to touch the house, to change it, for fear of forgetting what had been. And so the house had stayed in this state for several years. Giles hadn't put it up on the market until he had been stationed in America. Several people had seemed interested in the house at first but as soon as they went to view it they quickly decided against the idea of moving in.

Giles searched for the teabags in the cupboard and poured himself a cup of Earl Grey to go with Joanne's, and picked them up. He flicked the light switch with his elbow and then made his way back to the study very carefully, and quietly. He didn't go straight in, but stood outside, his eyes searching for something, as he spoke,

"Joanne? Are you decent?" Giles had his back to the door as he spoke and jumped when the door opened behind him, almost spilling the tea all over himself and the floor. Joanne stood there, hair tied back now, still soaking wet,

"Giles?"

"Tea!" Giles said handing her a deep red cup with the writing 'His lordship' on the side, before he dropped it. His hands were shaking badly. Joanne took the cup from him, not even bothering to make a joke about the writing and Giles came into the study shutting the door behind him and sitting himself down on the couch before he fell over. He put his cup on the table and left it there, staring at it for a while,

"Giles, are you positive you're okay? I mean, you don't look so good -" Joanne sat down next to the man and looked at him concerned, as a friend should be. Joanne watched the features of a man she had come to know and care for all those years ago. Everyone at the Watcher's council had taken care of her since she was small, but she had grown fond of Giles', more than the other watcher's. She had become close to him growing up and when she had been told at the age of ten that Giles had become the watcher to the new slayer and had to move to America, she hadn't taken the news too well,

"Giles, you look as though you've seen a ghost.' she said joking, but immediately Giles' head flipped round to look at her. His face was white and his eyes looked as though they might pop out his head any minute. His face changed from a look of horror to that of a warm comforting smile, that she knew so well,

"So what brings you to see me after all these years?" Giles hadn't seen the girl in nearly seven years, but somehow she hadn't changed at all. She hadn't become stuffy or snobby as so many people from the Watcher's council did. Even Giles himself had been that way at one point, but Sunnydale and Buffy had changed everything. Joanne's face turned down at that point, she curled her feet underneath herself and hugged her mug close to her,

"Well I did originally come just to visit you, but then the council sent me on business." Giles looked slightly taken aback,

"You're already working for the council?" Joanne nodded,

"But you're only -" Giles tried to work out the numbers in his tired head,

"Sixteen." she filled in for him, "They started me working as soon as they could. You know the council, all work and no play!" she sighed heavyhearted.

Giles and Joanne continued to talk about the council for what remained of the night and it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Giles managed to lay his head down on a pillow. He had given Joanne his room as a child. It was still pretty cluttered with boxes, but it was habitable. Now after hearing what Joanne had been up to since he had last seen her nearly seven years ago he got back thinking about what had happened before Joanne had appeared at the door. The voices he had heard, the things he had seen and remembered now that had been said and done long ago. It was like a feeling of déjà vu and he didn't like it. He didn't have long to remain fixed on his thoughts before he drifted off to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

So what do you think? I you want we to right more please give me incentive to, and ideas would also be good!

Thanks. *Kiwi*