Buffy slipped her sunglasses from her head down to her nose against the blinding glare of the California day. She'd managed to slip out of the school without Principal Snyder catching her, but she knew she'd catch hell for it later. He'd be sure to notice she'd skipped out of her classes. Unfortunately, events often lead to Snyder breathing down her back. Such was the life of a Slayer, and boy, did it suck.
If only Faith were more reliable. But with her off doing her own thing most of the time, the only thing Buffy could rely on her to do was show up to slay vampires. With everything else -- research, legwork, planning and preparation -- she was definitely fringe. She lived the stereotypical life of the Slayer. Someone pointed her to the Big Bad of the week, and she shoved something sharp and pointy into it. Repeat if necessary.
Buffy sighed. If only her life was that simple. But she had chosen to go the stay-alive route, instead of the go-out-in-a-blaze-of-glory route. And it worked for her. Most of the time. But there were days that she wished she'd fit herself into the mold of the Slayers of Christmas past.
The walk to Giles' apartment didn't take long when one was striding with a purpose. Between the mayor's big day fast approaching, her routine patrols, her issues with Angel and the everyday small crises, she relied on her Watcher to hold everything together. It might fray, it might tatter, it might even begin to split around the edges. But it held firm. It was the secret to her success. Giles meant stability. It meant planning. It meant staying alive.
But this... this was a whole new kettle of fish, she could sense it in her gut. She'd seen her Watcher shaken and afraid before. But ashen and trembling was a new look for Giles, and though she didn't want to admit it to herself, she was verging on blind panic. The only time she'd ever been this close to it was the time Giles had decided to avenge Jenny Calendar by taking on Angelus. She'd almost lost him then. She was afraid she was about to lose him now.
The apartment door loomed before her, and she raised a hand to lift the knocker on the door. It never hit the wood. She hesitated, then gently laid the knocker back down on the brass plate beneath it. Instead, she reached for the doorknob. Rarely did Giles lock his door. Today was no exception.
She cautiously peeked around the corner, unsure of what she would find. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and it appeared to be the same as it had been last night. The stack of books in the corner with the one on top opened to the section that mentioned Ascension, the teacup was still on the table.
"Giles?" she called, moving cautiously into the house and closing the door behind her.
On a closer second inspection, she noticed there were a few things out of place. The family history Giles had shown her last night was neither on the table nor was it on the bookcase. The phone was missing, as was the bottle of brandy Giles kept beside the couch for emergencies. The kitchen was slightly in disarray, as if he'd made a quick, hasty meal for himself and then neglected to clean up.
She paused beside the stack of books, and slid the top one into her arms. Diagrams and script in a language she counldn't read stared back from the page at her. She sighed, carefully replaced it and started to make her way to the kitchen.
As she was passing the stairs, she heard a faint voice, Giles' voice. It sounded less than happy. Buffy frowned and crept up the stairs silently. The voice grew more distinct with every step she took.
"...I know, Michelle, but this can't... would you listen to me for one moment? I need to talk to Randall... yes, I know he doesn't take any calls. Jesus God, Michelle, just get him on the sodding phone!"
Buffy carefully mounted the rest of the stairs, head tilted to catch as much of the one-sided conversation as she could. The frustration in her Watcher's voice was evident, and as she stepped to the beginning of the hall, she could see him at the other end through the partially open bedroom door. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed casually in blue jeans and a light sweater. One hand was over his eyes, the other held both the receiver and his glasses, and the bottle of brandy was open beside an empty glass on the nightstand. On the bed behind him were half a dozen open books and several scattered pages.
She moved slowly down the corridor, one hand against the wall, eyes focussed on Giles and her ears perked to catch the conversation.
He swiped his fingers across his forehead before propping his chin in his hands. "Michelle... I need to... no, Michelle. This isn't about Jenny. It's..." His face twisted, contorted into extreme aggravation. He abruptly stood, shouting into the phone. "They're back, you silly ignorant bint! You stupid git, they're back. Yeah, I thought that might catch your attention!"
Buffy shrank back into the shadows in the hall and watched him pace, eyes wide. This was much worse than she thought it could ever be.
He sat back down and went back to rubbing his eyes, head bowed. "Just... get Randall to sodding call me. No, we've... we've got some time yet. Two months, p'raps more. I've pressing business here -- yes, more important than this! Unless you feel that this situation supercedes a Hellmouth with a permanent opening into our world. No. No I didn't think so."
He sighed, and Buffy was shocked to find he looked old . For the first time, she realized how little she really knew about Giles. Did he have siblings? How old was he, anyway? When was his birthday? She couldn't honestly answer her own questions, and somehow felt guilty she'd never taken the time to learn those things about him.
"Yes, fine. Give Kent my love. Goodbye, Michelle." There was a moment of silence as he just sat there, holding the phone in his hands and looking old and worn. "Damn!" He slammed the receiver back to its cradle and it gave a dischordant twang. Giles buried his head in his hands, resting his elbows. "Damn," he repeated quietly, and though she wasn't certain, she thought she could hear tears in his voice.
Buffy folded her arms and backtracked down the hall, eyes never leaving him. Finally, she looked away and just as quietly as she'd crept up the stairs, she moved back down to the bottom floor. With a soft sigh, she headed for the door and silently closed it behind her after she stepped into the sunshine.
Two months, he'd said. They had two months before anything went down.
She'd give Giles his two months, but not because she wanted to. Graduation Day was just around the corner. That took precidence right now. It was a hard choice to make, but such was a Slayer's life. For the third time just that day alone, Buffy contemplated how much it royally sucked.
She just hoped that the demons wouldn't be able to step up production on their rendition of "As the World Burns".
=======
"What's she doing now?"
Willow sighed and pushed herself away from the bookcase and sat back down at the table. They had entered the library under the pretext of that "biology stuff" they had mentioned to Ms. Lyonnes and taken a table as far away from her, but still within visual range, as possible. There were plenty of biology books around them to carry the cover story through, but behind the stacks, they were deep into the demon research.
Or at least, she was. Xander was busy tracking the vice-principal's every movement, flipping pages without actually looking at them. For all she knew, he'd already gone by the section they needed, and they were wasting time when they could be out finding Buffy and filling her in on this week's Demon Flavor of the Month. Or in math class taking that trig test they were currently skipping. Or if they were going to skip, she could be spending time with Oz. All very important things, and taken together they made her an unhappy Willow.
"Xander, can you focus on what you're doing, please?" She couldn't quite stop the frustration from leaking into her voice. It brought his eyes whipping around to her, both eyebrows raised.
"Forget your Midol this morning, Will?" he half-joked, but the surprise ruined the tone.
Willow bit her bottom lip and pushed her hair back behind her ear. She hated having to raise her voice to get anything done, and especially to Xander, who'd been her best friend since they were still in diapers. "Look," she said softly. "If you're going to be helping me with this research thing, then help me. But flipping through pages while glaring at a school administrator isn't research. You could have already found the demon, but because you're not paying attention, it doubles the time this is taking. So please..." She gave him her best puppy dog look, and meant it from the bottom of iher heart. "What do you want to do, Xander? You wanna... look at that woman over there and wonder what she's up to? Or do you want to help me find this demon so we can help Buffy?"
He eyed her for a long minute, then his shoulders slumped and he turned his attention back to the text in front of him. "You're right," he admitted, flipping back to the beginning of the book and starting again. "Finding the demon is more important right now. We'll worry about Lyonnes whenever she pulls whatever it is she's planning."
She grinned and reached out to pat his hand. "That's my Xander." She gave his hand one more pat, then went back to her own book.
Snyder's voice made her jump guiltily. Willow slammed the book closed out of instinct, and slid a biology book over it, randomly opening to a page on the life cycle of a fruit fly. It took her an adrenaline-filled, terrifying moment to realize that the principal was speaking over the PA. "Ms. Lyonnes, report to the main office please."
"Whew," she said under her breath, and watched out of the corner of her eye as the vice-principal ran a hand over her hair to smooth it out, stand and head out of the library. She waited until the door had finished swinging shut, then stood, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "Okay, let's go see what demon Ms. Lyonnes was so worried about."
Xander tossed aside the book and grinned as he followed. "It was driving you nuts too, huh?"
"Oh yeah. I'm all about the finding evil and the stopping evil."
"You think she's evil?"
"She's too nice to be evil. But something might be after her."
"Right. And I'm a vampire." He peered over the top of the desk to see the demonology she'd been reading the first time they'd been in the library with Buffy and another book, open to handwritten script. He nonchalantly snatched the demonology from the counter and leaned back against the wall, scanning through the pages.
"Um... you are. In another reality, though."
Xander paused in his flipping and scanning. "Oh. Right. Well... you still got the point though."
Willow glanced down at the other text still open on the desk. Something was familiar about it. She frowned and pulled the book closer. With one thumb marking the place Lyonnes had been at, she picked it up and looked at the cover, then the spine. "This is... a Watcher's diary," she said uncertainly. "But it's not one that was in Giles' office, I don't think. This one is a different color than the others. And... and it's written in French. Giles' are all translated to English."
Xander nodded, then paused. With one eyebrow raised, he glanced to Willow. "How do you know that?"
"When Angel went to the Dark Side, I helped Giles look through the Diaries. We were reading up on him." She beamed at the memory. "He said I'd make a good Watcher, should I choose to." On seeing Xander's expression, she backtracked. "But... but that's not important right now."
"Right," Xander said dryly, and picked up the demonology book.
Willow stared down at the diary in her hands, one thumb still marking the place Lyonnes had been. She opened it back to that spot and skimmed through the text. "It's all French," she reported, glancing back up at Xander.
He half-grinned. "Good thing you're fluent, huh?"
She smiled uncertainly, and looked back to the book. "It's in old form," she said. "And the Watcher who wrote it had bad handwriting. Translating it is going to take longer than the few minutes we have standing here."
"There's an exit in the stacks," Xander said, dog-earing a page corner and slipping the compendium into his bookbag. "Don't ask me how I know. Just know that I've had to use it a few too many times." He grinned suddenly. "Sometimes to even get out of school without being seen by Snyder."
Willow nodded, forewent comment on Xander cutting class, and put the Diary with the rest of the texts in her own bag. "I'll get to work on translating this. It might take a little while, but I think I can do it."
Xander grinned proudly. "And that's why you're our resident Giles-in-training. We're going to have to get you some glasses and a British accent, Will."
They picked up the rest of the demonologies as they passed the table, and went into the stacks to replace them on the shelves before taking what Xander jokingly called the "secret exit" and skipping the rest of the day. That gave Willow a nauseous, butterfly feeling in the pit of her stomach, but with demons on the rampage and the mayor planning something big for graduation day, they all had to make sacrifices. She'd just have to cope with missing one day of her education for the greater good of mankind.
===============
Willow never did get around to translating the book. Between the box of Gavrok and Buffy's aspect of the demon, hell hounds on prom night and the sheer terror of simply graduating, let alone the Mayor's transformation into the biggest snake Willow had ever seen and the school blowing up, she clean forgot about it.
The Watcher's Diary lay on the floor amid her grimoires and books on witchcraft until a stray misplaced step from Oz finally kicked it far under the bed, where it lay gathering dust in the darkness.