Chapter 14: What Happened to Us?

With luxuriant hair that's pulled to one side and bubblegum pink lips curved into a smile, Buffy stands in front of her full-length mirror wearing a low-cut, off-shoulder tube top and a cheetah-print skirt. She swipes a blonde curl behind her ear, revealing a gold hoop that completes the fashion ensemble.

Yup. Still got it.

"Wow, you look slutty," Dawn says as she bursts through Buffy's bedroom door. She flumps down in a fold-up chair across from Buffy while texting on her blue, bedazzled flip phone.

"Nice to see you too, sis. What happened to studying for finals?"

"I needed a lunch break," Dawn grumbles. "Why are you all dressed up? Are we celebrating something?" The insolent teenager pulls a turkey sandwich out of a plastic bag and begins chowing down like a wild hyena; Buffy frowns in mild disgust.

"Well, we did just win a war with -"

"So, Spike is alive. 'Sup with that?" Dawn rudely interrupts with food in her mouth. Buffy groans at her sister.

"You have been here all of three seconds and you're already making me wish I was an only child," she complains, sitting down on her bed and bouncing a few times. Dawn watches her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Ouch. You're touchy today. Something happen during the patrol … that I wasn't invited to?"

"No," Buffy lies, throwing her back down on the mattress pathetically. "And can you stop chewing with your mouth open?"

"First of all, if you tell me my eating habits annoy you, I'm just gonna keep doing 'em." A glob of saliva and turkey splatters across the bed as she squawks. "And second, I can always tell when you're lying." Dawn's voice shifts into genuine concern for her sister. "What's going on, Buffy?"

Buffy sits up on the mattress and leans toward Dawn's chair, smiling faintly while she speaks.

"Nothing you need to worry about," she replies, stroking her fingers through Dawn's hair affectionately. Buffy feels this is as good a time as any to bring up something that's been on her mind for days. "So … why did you meet us in Cleveland … actually? I thought you liked Rome. The independence and everything."

"No reason. Just missed hangin' with the gang," says Dawn, her eyes focused on the almost non-existent sandwich in her hands. Buffy narrows her eyes. Who's lying now?

"Dawn," she says authoritatively, prodding her sister to look at her directly.

"Okay, fine," she instantly gives up. "I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want to do with the rest of my life -"

"Mhm."

"... and how I haven't really been much of a help to you guys over the years."

"That's okay, Dawn. Really. I want you to have as normal of a life as possible."

"But that's just it, Buffy. I'm never gonna have a normal life. Not when my big sister … is you. Here me out." Dawn proceeds with caution. "For the first time in history, the amount of Slayers outnumber the amount of Watchers."

Buffy is taken aback by the self-assured shift in her little sister's voice.

"What's your point?" she asks with impatient eyes.

"Well, we're at a disadvantage. Slayers were awakened all over the world. Almost two thousand of them. And they're all pretty much Watcher-less," she tells her. "C-Can you just imagine if you didn't have Giles when you were 15?"

"Not really. He did, of course, teach me how to read and write and always look both ways before crossing the street," Buffy jokes, prompting an eye roll from Dawn.

"Buffy, I'm being serious," she whines.

"Okay, okay. Yes. I would've been a wreck without Giles," she says with a twinge of sadness that escapes Dawn's notice. "Go on."

"I want to be that for someone."

"Huh?"

"I want to be a Watcher."

Buffy can't help her face from scrunching up from Dawn's reveal.

"You want to be a what now? "

"I thought I could learn from Robin, since he's Head Watcher guy here," Dawn points out as she rises from her chair and starts pacing. "Plus, Giles already started training Xander and Andrew. I figured he could just … add me to the list. Plus, there are officially no female Watchers in existence and I think that's unacceptable," she circles back to Buffy and speaks earnestly. "I want in, Buffy."

"Dawn, why would you want to be a Watcher?"

"Why not?" she says with a shrug.

"So, this isn't a lunch break from finals, this is a permanent break from finals."

Dawn sighs and catches herself in the full-length mirror. Her cinnamon brown hair rests in a high pony-tail with a few sneaky wisps hanging down the back of her neck. Aside from a miniscule amount of cheap mascara on her eyelashes and some strawberry-scented chapstick on her lips, Dawn's face is bare. She wears a pair of navy blue, skin-tight flare jeans and a casual, green top - an outfit she's bound to change before weaseling her way into tonight's outing. She's 5 feet, 7 inches of pure angst - and she knows it.

"I'm never gonna be a superhero, Buffy," Dawn mutters without turning away from her reflection. "But I can't be, like, some lawyer while my sister is off saving the world. This way, I can at least be helpful to you guys."

Buffy stands up at some point during Dawn's little speech. Although she'd never say it to her face, she wonders if this is just one of Dawn's stunts for attention or an endeavor she'll get bored of and quit.

I mean … a Watcher?

"Dawn, being a Watcher … is not what you think. It's a lot of … you know, reading. And … you know, watching." Buffy places her hands on her hips and struggles to find more reasons to steer Dawn away from this new career path. "I'm sorry, it just sounds so unbelievably boring. Like I feel like I'm actually falling asleep just talking about i-"

Buffy realizes that Giles has stepped into the room at the exact wrong moment. Her eyes widen as she sees the well-dressed Watcher. "Oh, hi Giles."

"Oh, don't let me interrupt," he says snarkily. "Do finish that sentence." Giles leans against the door frame with one hand in the pocket of his grey, pleated pants as he watches Buffy's face turn a bright red color. She presses her lips together in an attempt to conceal nervous laughter.

"Buffy was just saying how much she loves the idea of me training with you and Robin," Dawn steps in.

Buffy whips her head around to her sister.

"Oh, so you two already had this discussion?" Buffy scoffs. "It's nice to feel so included."

"You've been really busy since I got here. Almost too busy," Dawn says suggestively. Buffy's brain is flooded with memories of Spike, which is exactly what Dawn wants; the nights she spent with him instead of checking in with her sister. Buffy feels a pang of guilt surge in her chest; she thought her days of neglecting Dawn because of her own drama were long over.

Wearing a pained smile, Buffy takes a step towards her sister. All her judgment over Dawn's decision to become a Watcher washes away. She places her hands on Dawn's forearms and shakes them softly.

"Dawnie, if this is what you want … I support you."

"Really?"

"Really."

Dawn casts a smile in Giles' direction. Buffy can see it in her eyes - she's found her purpose.

Or at least she thinks she has.

Okay, officially done judging.

"Buffy, a word?" Giles questions after the dust has settled. Buffy gives him a thumbs-up before turning to face Dawn.

"Dawn, talk some more later?"

The petite, dark-haired 18-year-old nods eagerly a couple of times before her sister leaves the room with Giles.

"I understand you're taking the girls out tonight," he mentions on their way out.

"I think it would be more accurate to say they're taking me out," Buffy replies in a huff. "Once Faith gets an idea in her head, she -"

"It's a good idea. You've been doing good work, Buffy. You deserve a break."

What sixteen-year-old me would've done to hear those words from him.

"You okay, Giles? You didn't happen to like, hit your head on the door and suffer major brain damage, didja?" Buffy says with a furrowed brow.

"Is it so appalling that I would advocate for you taking a night off from all this?"

Giles gestures to the lobby full of stone-faced Slayer soldiers speeding to their destinations. Undoubtedly, the room feels tense and absent of the carefree spirit Buffy tried desperately to hold on to.

"A little, yeah," she finally says, following Giles into his temporary office. Her brain starts concocting worrisome scenarios that she can't help but share. "W-What if we leave and this place is attacked, huh? It's happened before. And then - boom - a whole lotta dead people that I could've saved if I wasn't doing the limbo in some sleazy nightclub with my former enemy."

"Buffy, that's very unlikely," Giles reassures her, flicking the lightswitch on to a terribly uninteresting workroom. He slumps down in a desk chair across from Buffy, whose nerves tell her to remain standing. "From what Robin tells me, Cleveland has been fairly quiet. Well … as quiet as a city on top of a Hellmouth can be." Giles waves to a wooden chair on the other side of his desk in an attempt to persuade Buffy to sit down. She reluctantly listens. "Besides, not all the Slayers are leaving. There will be other fighters here. We'll hold down the fort," Giles concludes.

"But -"

"I think it's time you give yourself a break. Socialize. Have fun."

"Socialize?" "Have fun?" He must be possessed.

"You're not alone in this anymore," Giles continues as he searches Buffy's face for any clue as to what she might be thinking. "You know that, don't you?"

This is ... the longest conversation we've had in months.

Buffy can feel herself wanting to open up about her new high-stakes leadership role and subsequent isolation from the rest of the group - but she's forgotten what even that feels like. Confiding in Giles; running to him when things get bad or messy or confusing. She's gotten pretty used to keeping it all inside. Although they refuse to talk about it, their relationship has suffered greatly over the past few years. From their disagreement about Spike (which seems to be ongoing) to the unavoidable fact that Buffy no longer needs a Watcher - they now behave like estranged relatives. Sometimes strangers. Buffy doesn't remember the exact moment their relationship was different; one day, it just was.

"Yeah. I know that," she lies, her voice soft but distant. To avoid Giles' fatherly glare, Buffy looks down at her boots and, as a result, has second thoughts about her choice of footwear for tonight. Giles watches Buffy fidget with her shoes, readjust her jewelry, rub the back of her neck nervously and do everything but tell him what she's actually feeling behind those hardened eyes.

"Good," Giles surrenders, his thumb lightly grazing his temple. As much as he wants to address the bizarre energy between them, he knows it's not the time or place to get into it. Unfortunately, the time and place to talk was a long time ago - in Sunnydale. "Well, let me know if you need anything," he says with a sting in his smile.

On her impassioned walk back to her chambers, Buffy opens up to Giles - in her head.

Being the Chosen One was hard.

But being the Chosen One in charge of a bunch of other Chosen Ones is no joyride either.

Giles, I've forgotten what it feels like to feel … comfortable. I'm afraid if I make a mistake, you'll all turn on me again.

I … wouldn't be able to take it if that happened. Not now. Not ever.

God, Giles. I can't even sit in a chair without feeling tense. Like I'm gonna get a girl killed. Just by sitting in a chair.

The only time I ever feel safe is when … he's around. When he's with us.

That … can't be good, right?

What do you think, Giles?