Getting Off The Griefmobile
By Annakovsky
See part 1 for all relevant info and disclaimer.
***********
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
***********
Faith came back from the bathroom and settled into the seat next to Giles in the Frankfort am Main airport. They had a three hour layover before catching their flight to Tel Aviv, and Faith was restless. She crossed her legs one way, eyeing a security guard, then crossed them back, then uncrossed them and slumped down low in the chair, trying to look unconcerned. One of the airline type people glanced at her, fiddling with his walkie-talkie. She instinctively reached for her stake, just wanting to know it was there, but she had had to put everything that even remotely looked like a weapon in her checked baggage.
Even if she did have the best faked passport that Willow, with a combination of magic and technology, could get her, she was still nervous she'd be recognized as an escaped fugitive. She wondered if the guy standing by the magazine stand was looking at her suspiciously, so glared at him until he looked away. She crossed her legs again, then decided to sit cross-legged in the chair, tapping her fingers absently on the armrest as she continued to scan the area.
"Faith, for the love of God," Giles said. "You're making me nervous. Go buy a magazine."
"They're all in German," she said, still looking around at the crowd and not at him. There was more than one reason she was twitchy. Giles, exasperated, pulled out his wallet and handed her a five Euro note.
"Then go get a snack. I'll have a ginger ale." Faith rolled her eyes at him, but got up, half-relieved to have something to do. Giles opened his newspaper and watched her go over the top of it.
The night before, Giles had called Buffy from their hotel. Faith had been in his room flopped on the bed, flipping channels and trying to find something in English. Giles was sitting in the warm glow of the lamp, talking quietly and affectionately into the phone. Faith listened to them until it got to be too much. Overwhelmed, she jumped up and walked quickly to the door to her adjoining room, where she sat in the dark and stared out the window for awhile at the city below.
When she finally turned, Giles was in the doorway looking at her.
"What?" she asked, self-conscious. He just raised his eyebrows a little bit, waiting for her to talk. Faith sighed. Sometimes the new full disclosure, total honesty thing that they had going on was annoying. She looked at him helplessly, then looked away.
"Sometimes I get so fucking jealous of Buffy I think it's going to kill me," she muttered. She looked up, bit the inside of her cheek. "She really doesn't realize how good she has it."
"No," Giles said. "To Buffy the glass is usually half empty." He sighed and sat down on the bed, taking off his glasses.
Faith looked at him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's it like being a Watcher?" she asked finally. Giles looked grave and replaced his glasses.
"Terrifying."
"Worth it?"
"I don't know." He looked sad, sort of. She was the one just looking at him now, eyebrows slightly raised and waiting for him to talk. He glanced at her.
"They don't tell you anything useful, you know, in training. Not what to do when your Slayer insists on falling in love with vampires. Not how to parent her and all her friends. I never feel like I've... it's never enough. I worry."
"Sucks to be the grownup."
Giles slightly exhaled in a rueful almost-laugh. "Yes."
Faith got up and walked across the room, which was still dark except for the streetlights tossing bands of light through the window.
"You want a drink? I think there's a minibar in here. Thank God for Buenos Aires and civilization, right?"
"Scotch," said Giles. She poured him a glass, grabbed a tiny bottle for herself and walked back to the window and looked outside again. There was a cool breeze blowing. Giles came and stood next to her.
"Watching isn't all bad," he said. "I suppose with all the bumps I've taken to the head, I should be glad to be alive." She glanced at him sharply and then looked away, blinking at the city lights. The night air was cool and sharp.
"My first Watcher died," she said very quietly. He didn't respond for a while, so long that she thought he hadn't heard her.
"Kakistos," he said. "I remember."
"Yeah," she said. "She... I liked her. She was about the only adult that ever gave a shit."
Giles leaned against the window frame, seeming to deflate, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry we didn't do better by you in Sunnydale. We... I wasn't paying enough attention. I should have made sure you were all right, done more."
Faith shrugged. "'S okay. You were dealing with a lot of stuff with Buffy. I understood."
"Buffy isn't the only person who matters."
"Reeeally?" Faith said dryly, the 'you could've fooled me' strongly implied. She downed the rest of her drink as Giles ran his hand through his hair and sighed.
Faith turned slightly to half face him. His face was shadowed, softened and unreal in the darkness. The noises drifting up from the street sounded far away and made the hotel room seem even quieter, removed from the rest of the world.
She was still half buzzed from being at the bar downstairs earlier, and lonely, so lonely. The Scoobs back in the States were all being best friends, supporting each other, caring, sunshine and happiness. She was in a dark, crappy hotel room in Argentina and no one in the whole world really loved her. But here was Giles, caring.
She reached up and touched his cheek, then stood on her tiptoes and leaned in, kissing him softly. He seemed stunned, stood stock still. His lips were soft.
She pulled back after a moment, when he didn't respond. "Sorry."
"Faith, I..."
"Don't. I just... sorry. No big deal. Momentary weakness and all that." She moved away into the center of the room. He stood by the window, still looking at her. She turned on a light and flipped on the TV, trying to dispel the quiet and the dark.
"Faith."
"I think I'm going to hit the sack. We're heading out tomorrow, right? I heard about the tablet thingy when you were talking to Buffy."
"Yes."
"Cool. Gotta get some sleep first, though. See you tomorrow." She went into the bathroom and closed the door. When she came out again, he was gone. It took a long time for her to fall asleep.
And now she came by from the snack stand, handed him his ginger ale. They were both acting relentlessly normal, as if behaving that way would make it so.
Faith hated airports. You were always just putting in time, waiting to get to real places, where real things happened. And the seats were too close together, so that every time you moved your elbows brushed. You wouldn't think that with your arms touching you could feel so far apart.
******
TBC...
******
By Annakovsky
See part 1 for all relevant info and disclaimer.
***********
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
***********
Faith came back from the bathroom and settled into the seat next to Giles in the Frankfort am Main airport. They had a three hour layover before catching their flight to Tel Aviv, and Faith was restless. She crossed her legs one way, eyeing a security guard, then crossed them back, then uncrossed them and slumped down low in the chair, trying to look unconcerned. One of the airline type people glanced at her, fiddling with his walkie-talkie. She instinctively reached for her stake, just wanting to know it was there, but she had had to put everything that even remotely looked like a weapon in her checked baggage.
Even if she did have the best faked passport that Willow, with a combination of magic and technology, could get her, she was still nervous she'd be recognized as an escaped fugitive. She wondered if the guy standing by the magazine stand was looking at her suspiciously, so glared at him until he looked away. She crossed her legs again, then decided to sit cross-legged in the chair, tapping her fingers absently on the armrest as she continued to scan the area.
"Faith, for the love of God," Giles said. "You're making me nervous. Go buy a magazine."
"They're all in German," she said, still looking around at the crowd and not at him. There was more than one reason she was twitchy. Giles, exasperated, pulled out his wallet and handed her a five Euro note.
"Then go get a snack. I'll have a ginger ale." Faith rolled her eyes at him, but got up, half-relieved to have something to do. Giles opened his newspaper and watched her go over the top of it.
The night before, Giles had called Buffy from their hotel. Faith had been in his room flopped on the bed, flipping channels and trying to find something in English. Giles was sitting in the warm glow of the lamp, talking quietly and affectionately into the phone. Faith listened to them until it got to be too much. Overwhelmed, she jumped up and walked quickly to the door to her adjoining room, where she sat in the dark and stared out the window for awhile at the city below.
When she finally turned, Giles was in the doorway looking at her.
"What?" she asked, self-conscious. He just raised his eyebrows a little bit, waiting for her to talk. Faith sighed. Sometimes the new full disclosure, total honesty thing that they had going on was annoying. She looked at him helplessly, then looked away.
"Sometimes I get so fucking jealous of Buffy I think it's going to kill me," she muttered. She looked up, bit the inside of her cheek. "She really doesn't realize how good she has it."
"No," Giles said. "To Buffy the glass is usually half empty." He sighed and sat down on the bed, taking off his glasses.
Faith looked at him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's it like being a Watcher?" she asked finally. Giles looked grave and replaced his glasses.
"Terrifying."
"Worth it?"
"I don't know." He looked sad, sort of. She was the one just looking at him now, eyebrows slightly raised and waiting for him to talk. He glanced at her.
"They don't tell you anything useful, you know, in training. Not what to do when your Slayer insists on falling in love with vampires. Not how to parent her and all her friends. I never feel like I've... it's never enough. I worry."
"Sucks to be the grownup."
Giles slightly exhaled in a rueful almost-laugh. "Yes."
Faith got up and walked across the room, which was still dark except for the streetlights tossing bands of light through the window.
"You want a drink? I think there's a minibar in here. Thank God for Buenos Aires and civilization, right?"
"Scotch," said Giles. She poured him a glass, grabbed a tiny bottle for herself and walked back to the window and looked outside again. There was a cool breeze blowing. Giles came and stood next to her.
"Watching isn't all bad," he said. "I suppose with all the bumps I've taken to the head, I should be glad to be alive." She glanced at him sharply and then looked away, blinking at the city lights. The night air was cool and sharp.
"My first Watcher died," she said very quietly. He didn't respond for a while, so long that she thought he hadn't heard her.
"Kakistos," he said. "I remember."
"Yeah," she said. "She... I liked her. She was about the only adult that ever gave a shit."
Giles leaned against the window frame, seeming to deflate, his shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry we didn't do better by you in Sunnydale. We... I wasn't paying enough attention. I should have made sure you were all right, done more."
Faith shrugged. "'S okay. You were dealing with a lot of stuff with Buffy. I understood."
"Buffy isn't the only person who matters."
"Reeeally?" Faith said dryly, the 'you could've fooled me' strongly implied. She downed the rest of her drink as Giles ran his hand through his hair and sighed.
Faith turned slightly to half face him. His face was shadowed, softened and unreal in the darkness. The noises drifting up from the street sounded far away and made the hotel room seem even quieter, removed from the rest of the world.
She was still half buzzed from being at the bar downstairs earlier, and lonely, so lonely. The Scoobs back in the States were all being best friends, supporting each other, caring, sunshine and happiness. She was in a dark, crappy hotel room in Argentina and no one in the whole world really loved her. But here was Giles, caring.
She reached up and touched his cheek, then stood on her tiptoes and leaned in, kissing him softly. He seemed stunned, stood stock still. His lips were soft.
She pulled back after a moment, when he didn't respond. "Sorry."
"Faith, I..."
"Don't. I just... sorry. No big deal. Momentary weakness and all that." She moved away into the center of the room. He stood by the window, still looking at her. She turned on a light and flipped on the TV, trying to dispel the quiet and the dark.
"Faith."
"I think I'm going to hit the sack. We're heading out tomorrow, right? I heard about the tablet thingy when you were talking to Buffy."
"Yes."
"Cool. Gotta get some sleep first, though. See you tomorrow." She went into the bathroom and closed the door. When she came out again, he was gone. It took a long time for her to fall asleep.
And now she came by from the snack stand, handed him his ginger ale. They were both acting relentlessly normal, as if behaving that way would make it so.
Faith hated airports. You were always just putting in time, waiting to get to real places, where real things happened. And the seats were too close together, so that every time you moved your elbows brushed. You wouldn't think that with your arms touching you could feel so far apart.
******
TBC...
******