FIC: Moving
Oct. 14th, 2005 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sam_gamgeeTitle: "Moving"
Author: Adrian
Disclaimer: What you recognize belongs to Joss & Co. The rest is mine.
Distribution: my site, here, list archives, any others - just ask (I'll say yes, I just want to know where it's going)
Rating: Heavy R
Spoilers: "Chosen"
Summary: Xander helps Giles move - in more ways than one.
Feedback: Please?
Notes: ****** = flashback, *** = change in pov
"Do you own anything that came out after 1975?" Xander practically shouted as he entered the apartment with a bag of groceries and was greeted by a wall of music. They'd only been in London for a little over 24 hours, but he was sure he'd learned more about Giles' taste in music in that time than in all the years they'd know each other previously.
"If I'm not mistaken," Giles replied, turning down the volume on his stereo with a remote but otherwise not pausing from sorting out some papers, "this album came out after you were born. Not every Queen album was done in the 1970s."
Setting the bag down on the table in the tiny kitchen and beginning to unpack it, Xander replied, "I never quite took you for a Queen fan."
"You've heard me sing 'Freebird' by The Who," Giles replied, distracted. "Queen's not much of a jump."
"True." After letting the conversation lag as he put the groceries away, Xander settled on the couch and asked, "Making any headway?"
"I think so. Maybe." Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. I keep thinking that I'll need these papers when I really don't. They're mostly notes from classes at the Academy - things that were drilled into me from a young age."
"Then throw them out," Xander replied. "It'll be easier getting back to the States if we have less stuff to lug around."
Giles leaned back fully against the couch, rested his head on the seat cushion and sighed heavily. "I know I should. And, yet, I can't seem to bring myself to do so. I'm always worried that I just *might* need those notes on the Master from my history class, even though we've completely defeated him."
"I could always do it for you when you're not looking," Xander replied with a smile. He felt something stirring inside of him, as if some long-sleeping feelings were being awakened.
"Might not be a bad idea," Giles agreed. "I think I'll let you finish taking care of this room while I start in the bedroom."
Surveying the papers that were spread out haphazardly in the living room, Xander asked, "How did you accumulate so much? You were only here, what, a year and half before the potentials?"
Giles sighed and gave a small shrug. "What can I say? I'm a packrat. I know that most of this should've gone a long time ago, but it's hard letting go. I guess when you learn from a young age how transient everything is, you want to hold on as tightly as possible."
"Yeah, I know how that is," Xander replied softly.
Giles heaved himself up into a standing position. "Time to move on, I suppose," he said before heading into the master bedroom.
Xander watched him go before grabbing a trash bag out of the box on the table and began throwing papers in it. He rifled through the stacks with an objective eye, just in case, before discarding them. Some drawings and a few pages of notes that looked like they could be helpful were kept, but by the time Xander was done, about 99% of the papers had wound up in the bag. As Xander was finishing straightening up, Giles appeared from the bedroom, looking even more exasperated than when he had entered it.
"What do you feel like for supper?" Giles asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Doesn't matter," Xander replied with a shrug as he stood. "We could go out if you want. Or I bought a few things since we are going to be here at least some of the time."
Giles went into the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. "Well, it looks like we have enough to make chicken stir-fry. Would you mind staying in?"
"Not at all. It'll be a nice change of pace from the whirl-wind of the past few days."
"That it would." Giles retrieved the necessary items from the refrigerator as Xander retrieved the things they would need from the cupboards and the two men began preparing the meal in a comfortable silence.
In short order, Xander was leaning against the counter and watching as Giles browned the chicken, the chopped vegetables sitting to the side waiting to be added, and the rice cooked in the microwave. A million things ran through his mind, none of which he was sure how to verbalize or put into action. After licking his lips, Xander began, "When, you know... when you stayed with me in the hospital did that - did it...mean anything?"
******
Xander groaned and slowly opened his eye. The initial pain from when Caleb had stuck his finger into Xander's eye was still persisting, but was more of a dull ache now that the painkillers had taken effect. Hearing a rustling of pages, he turned his head to see Giles closing a book.
"How're you feeling?" Giles asked gently.
"Like I've just had my eye poked out," Xander replied with a weak smile. Somehow, having Giles there made him feel better. Safer. "What'd the doctor say?"
"That you're very lucky. They're going to keep you here for a couple of days for observation to make sure that an infection doesn't set in and to see how your body reacts to the trauma."
"How're the girls?" Xander asked.
"They're doing well. I think Buffy's taking what happened a little too personally, but you know how she is. The others are recovering."
"Good." Looking at the papers and books spread about, he asked, "What're you working on?"
Giles sighed and Xander thought that for the first time he could actually see the weight the other man was shouldering. "I'm just trying to find anything we might've missed on the First or the Torak-Han - or Caleb even, but so far having no such luck."
"You should take a break. How're we going to be able to kick their asses if you're out of commission?" Giles smiled tiredly at that, but put the book he was still holding aside. After a few quiet moments, in which Giles wondered if Xander had fallen back asleep, Xander quietly asked, "Tell me something about when you were younger."
"Well, there was a sweets shop down the street from where I went to school in Oxford – they had everything you could imagine. It was like something out of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Whenever I got money from home or for a special occasion, the first thing I would do would be to go down there and buy a few things. For us, sweets were worth more than gold." He smiled fondly. "I remember trading Charlie Tucker some lollies for a jawbreaker that lasted me over a week and each of us thinking we had gotten the better deal."
"Did you like going there?"
Giles half-shrugged. "I suppose. It wasn't like I had any actual experience anywhere else to compare it to." His look stopped Xander from commenting. "And, no, Sunnydale High doesn't count. By the time I arrived there to be Buffy's Watcher, I was mature enough to be able to realize how petty the whole school social scene was – even back at the Academy."
Xander shifted. "Did you ever keep in touch with anyone?"
"Not really. Every once in a while I might get a letter or a phone call from someone in my class wanting to check up and we'd usually exchange news then of who was alive, who wasn't, whose Potential was still alive, whose wasn't – things like that. I assume it's the same for most high schoolers – no matter how good their intentions." To prove his point, he asked, "Outside of our little group, who do you still keep in touch with?"
"No one, really," Xander admitted. "Most left after graduation. The rest…with the First, who knows what'll happen to everyone else."
A nurse came in and asked, "How're you feeling, Mr. Harris?" as she began to check him over.
"Okay," he replied. "A little tired, maybe."
"Then maybe you shouldn't wear yourself out with visitors," she responded with a smile, although clearly inferring that Giles should probably go, as she tried to take Xander's temperature.
"Giles is fine."
"Are you sure?" Giles asked Xander.
"Absolutely."
"Please keep your mouth shut, Mr. Harris," the nurse ordered.
"Yes, ma'am." And Xander clamped his mouth shut.
******
"When, you know... when you stayed with me in the hospital did that - did it...mean anything?"
Giles considered Xander's question carefully, not wanting to get his hopes up, before answering, "Did you want it to mean anything?"
"Maybe."
Giles looked at the young man and saw the same lost and confused expression that Xander had worn numerous times in the early days of their relationship when he wasn't sure what was going on, or where his place was in it. After quickly adding the vegetables and some water and covering the whole thing, Giles turned and closed a small portion of the distance between them. He surveyed the younger man and how mature he had become and how he didn't flinch under Giles' gaze. The teenager had definitely become a man. "What if I said maybe it did?" he asked quietly.
Xander visibly swallowed and nodded, not looking at Giles – instead focusing on a spot slightly to Giles' right and near the floor. Giles was almost certain he could actually *see* Xander pulling his thoughts together. "Yeah, me too," he finally responded with another nod.
Giles fought the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him, but instead he broke the moment and turned to check on their supper. He knew that it was a dangerous thing to want, to hope, to desire; but, nevertheless, a spark had been lit and, if he wasn't careful, history just might repeat itself. The microwave dinged and Xander went to retrieve the rice. Turning off the stove, Giles added the sauce and mixed everything together as Xander divided the rice between the two plates. Once Giles had added the vegetables and chicken to the rice, Xander handed him a fork and a napkin and they both took a plate over to the small table that had been tucked into the corner. Before sitting down, Xander grabbed both of them a beer out of the fridge.
They ate quietly – Xander obviously lost in his own thoughts, and Giles trying to figure out his own. The time he had spent with Xander in the hospital and in the following days up to the fight with the First had inadvertently awoken his slumbering emotions. The proximity had forced him to realize that the teenager he had met so many years ago had truly matured and was a force to be reckoned with in his own right. And it had shocked Giles to realize that it was enough of a force that, out of all of them, the embodiment of the First had physically attacked Xander first and without provocation. And the attack had awoken a protective streak in Giles that he hadn't realized was there. It had nothing to do with the fact that Xander couldn't protect himself – obviously, he didn't have the abilities that Buffy, Faith, the potentials or even Willow had, but he knew how to handle himself in a fight. No, the desire to inflict pain that Giles had felt was something else entirely than what he would've felt for one of the girls.
And now that the issue had been brought out into the open, he couldn't deny that the feelings he had hadn't gone away in the month since they had defeated the First. They were still there – lurking at the edges of his mind and just past the walls he had placed around his heart.
After they had finished eating and had just set their dishes in the sink, Giles acted without a thought to what he was doing or the possible consequences and, gently cupping Xander's cheek, kissed him.
***
Xander froze for the tiniest fraction of a second, before yielding to the kiss. It was hot and hungry and demanding and, oh, God…Anya had never kissed him like this and Giles' assault on his mouth was turning Xander on quicker than it should've been able to. He kissed Giles back with equal fervor, his timidity wiped away by the fact that Giles didn't pull away from the kiss and even stepped in a little closer, becoming more demanding. He gripped the combined edge of counter and sink closest to him to steady himself with one hand and reflexively brought his other arm up and wrapped it around Giles' waist as Giles brought his other hand up to rest on Xander's shoulder as his other hand drifted down to cup the back of Xander's neck. Giles broke the kiss, but his lips lingered a breath away from Xander's and Xander closed the gap for another, shorter, and slightly less intense kiss. When they finally did pull apart, Xander saw that Giles' eyes were dilated, his lips looked slightly swollen, he was slightly flushed, and he was panting ever so slightly through his mouth.
"Wow," Xander said, breaking the silence first.
"I would have to agree," Giles replied. "I'm sorry if I startled you."
"Don't worry about it." Xander smiled. "Unexpected? Yes. Unwanted? No, definitely not."
"I’m glad to hear that." Giles smiled as well and gently stroked the back of Xander's neck with his hand once. "Well…"
"Yeah, we should do these dishes."
That night in bed – well, the couch – Xander replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. It had definitely been unexpected. Even though neither of them could deny that they had gotten closer over the three days that Xander had been made to stay in the hospital and then in the week after that leading up to the fight with the First, once the fight was over and the dust had literally settled, Xander could almost physically feel Giles pulling away from him. He couldn't figure out if it was because Giles had thought he needed time and space to grieve over Anya's death or if it was because now that they had all survived, the level of danger simply wasn't there and therefore, Giles felt that the relationship could go back to the way it had always been. But Xander hadn't wanted it to go back to the way it had always been.
After he had left Anya at the altar and they had broken up, Xander had, obviously, done a lot of thinking and some, at first unsettling, things came to the forefront. While he had truly loved Anya and would always be attracted to her and to other women, he could honestly say that he was also attracted to men and Giles in particular. Somewhere deep down, he had always known it, even if he hadn't wanted to admit it in any way, shape, or form. The appreciation he had felt in the beginning for Giles making him feel like he was actually worth something, even if Giles seemed to be suffering his presence because he was Buffy's friend more than anything else, had changed and grown over the years as their relationship had changed and grown. And now – now he wanted more.
***
The next morning, Giles awoke early and slipped out of bed. The flat was still cool, so he pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers before heading out into the kitchen to start the coffee. They had a lot to do that day and would need to get an early start. After the pot was made, he poured himself a cup and added a liberal dose of sugar, before padding over to the window to stare out across the city and blatantly ignore the still sleeping form not far from him. This was usually his favorite time of day – everything was still and quiet and he was able to get his thoughts in order before the busyness of the day pulled him in a thousand different directions.
The events of the previous evening, while not completely undesired, had been quite unexpected. Giles had been proud of the way that Xander had grown and matured since he had first met him so many years before. When the first inklings of attraction had started to stir in him about two years before, Giles had clamped down tight on them for so many reasons – age difference, propriety, Anya, and many more. But then, in the hospital, they had naturally grown closer than they had ever previously been and Giles thought he was getting the same vibe from Xander that he was trying his best to not send to the other man. It had both surprised and thrilled him that he may actually have a chance. And then, when Xander didn't pull back once they had gotten home, Giles was encouraged that after they were finished with the First, and if they both survived, that they would have a chance to do something. After he had found out that Anya had died, Giles unconsciously withdrew from Xander, wanting to give him a chance to grieve for his former fiancée and hated himself for it, knowing that Xander would have probably rather had the comfort of a friend who had known her instead of empty space.
When it had been decided that going to London to take stock of the Watchers Council and see if it was salvageable in any way, shape, or form was a necessary task to help the Slayers, Giles had felt a pang of guilt for inwardly sighing in relief when both Buffy and Faith opted out of going because of wanting to stay with the new Slayers and Willow had passed on going because of the memories she had of the last time she had been in the country. And even though Xander seemed resigned to going because he was the only other logical choice, Giles had – and still did – hoped that he could show Xander that he hadn't made the wrong decision in coming and he also hoped that they would have a chance to lay everything out and figure out what they wanted out of their relationship.
Xander stirred, breaking Giles out of his reverie. "Good morning," he said as he stretched.
"Good morning," Giles replied with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.
Xander turned on his side towards Giles and, partially curling up, asked, "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
"We need to go down to the makeshift Council headquarters and basically take over."
Xander looked surprised. "Do what? You're kidding, right?"
"No at all. From what I've gathered, what's left of the Council is made up of a mixture of antiquated Watchers whose methods are horrendously outdated and young idealists not even out of the Academy who don't know any better. I think it's high time the Council moved out of the sixth century."
"And you're just the man to do it?"
"You bet." Giles drained what was left in his coffee mug. "And you're going to help." He stood up straight. "Come on, we've got a lot of work to do."
***
As Xander brushed his teeth, he couldn't help but think of the shiver that had gone down his spine when Giles told him what they were going to do that day. It was like he had changed – or had at least started to – into another person and it was hotter than what Xander remembered from the last time Giles had acted like that. As his mind went back to the other times Giles had acted like this, he started to wonder if Ethan was around since he seemed to be the common denominator. After he had dressed and eaten a bowl of cereal, they were on their way across the city, weaving their way through the Underground, Xander following Giles from one train to another and extremely happy that it wasn't rush hour, since he was having a hard enough time following him as it was.
They paused just inside a modest office building and Xander watched as Giles made some tiny adjustments to his appearance and Xander could almost feel a shift in Giles' personality. Something was definitely different, even if he couldn't put a finger on it. Then they continued on – up a flight of steps and past a secretary who called for them to stop before Giles pushed open a set of double doors into a conference room. Two dozen heads of various ages turned as one in their direction at the unwelcome interruption and Xander had to force himself not to shrink back under the weight of their stares. But Giles kept going until he reached the foot of the table and leaned over it, hands balled into fists supported his weight.
"I've come to take over the Council," he said levelly and with more authority than Xander had ever heard him use.
"You can't do that, Rupert," said the old man who was sitting at the other end of the table.
"I can and I am, Christian," he replied. "I have had an active slayer for longer than any of you, I have helped avert more apocalypses, my Slayer was one of the few who survived the Cruciamentum, and we defeated the First. You will listen to me and do as I say or you will find yourselves out of a job."
Xander watched the faces of the other Watchers as Giles spoke. Most looked shocked and surprised. A couple, like Christian, wore expressions of barely concealed anger. And one or two actually looked hopeful.
Giles stood and began slowly walking counterclockwise around the table. "Now, we have a situation on our hands. Because of our battle with the First, all the potentials on earth are now full-fledged Slayers and they need our help." He stopped and leaned into Christian's personal space. "*All* of our help."
"T-th-they *WHAT*?" Christian sputtered. "That's not even possible."
Giles straightened and started moving again. "Actually, yes, it is. Especially when you have the Scythe."
Christian's eyes, as well as the eyes of the other older men in the room, grew huge and Xander found that he was enjoying their discomfort. "You have the *Scythe*?"
"Well, not on me, obviously, but, yes, we do. Take that and a highly powerful witch who knows what she'd doing…" Giles turned towards Christian and shrugged nonchalantly.
"Willow Rosenberg is practicing magic again?!? I thought we forbade her from doing so."
"The *Council* may have done so, but Willow owes you no allegiance past what she feels for Buffy."
"Quentin Travers never should have rehired you," Christian muttered under his breath.
Giles resumed his place at the foot of the table. "Ah, but I would still be here, regardless of whether or not I was still an employee of the Council. At least this way I have a legitimate claim of succession to the head of the Council, and I intent to fulfill that position."
"You? How dare you assume that *you* could have any legitimate reasons for taking over the Council?"
"I assume because, according to the Council's bylaws, I'm completely and rightfully allowed. When the position of the head of Council becomes available, the Watcher who had most recently had an active Slayer killed in action was the first one given the option of running the Council, in the desire of wanting to keep current with the times. And considering the fact that none of you *careerists*," Giles practically spat the word out, "have ever had an active Slayer, the rest of you are too young, all the other things I mentioned before, *and* the fact that Buffy has died three times, I think it's fair to assume that I'm the best candidate for the job. Now, whether you like it or not, I am taking over. If you wish to join me, I would be more than happy to allow you do to so. But, if you can't, feel free to find employment elsewhere or, as in some of your cases, retire early. My associate and I will be waiting at the park next door for your answer."
Giles turned sharply and walked briskly towards the exit, giving a curt nod to the receptionist on his way out. Xander hesitated for a second, still blown away by what he had seen, before he quickly turned and headed after Giles. As they neared the steps at the other end of the hallway, they heard a rustle of clothing and a hurried step and turned to see one of the younger Watchers running after them.
When he reached them, he grinned and extended his hand. "Mr. Giles, it's *so* amazing to finally get a chance to meet you," he said excitedly and slightly out of breath.
"Thank you," Giles replied modestly as he shook the newcomer's hand. "And you are…?"
"Anthony Miller, sir. I decided to write my thesis about you – which, obviously, didn't endear me to my professors."
"Interesting. I hadn't realized that I'd live long enough to merit such a thing. What can I do for you, Anthony?"
"I just wanted to let you know that I want to join you and what you're planning on doing."
"Good to know." Giles smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Anthony."
Anthony blushed. "I should get back in there and help persuade some more of them. I'm sure you don't want the crotchety old birds to get the good ones, do you?"
"Not in the least. We'll be downstairs waiting." Anthony nodded as they began their descent.
"That was *amazing*," Xander said when they were out of earshot. "It's like you became a whole other person."
Giles laughed. "A little awe-struck, are we?" he asked.
"Maybe a little," Xander replied with an amused smile. After exiting the building and sitting down on one of the benches, he asked, "So, do you have a grand plan for how you're going to run this place?"
"Well," Giles responded thoughtfully, "we're obviously going to need to replenish our numbers – especially with all the new Slayers. And the curriculum at the Academy sorely needs updating. And I think that we need to change some of the rules and bylaws about the Watchers – partly because of the fact that instead of having numerous Watcher/Potential pairs and one active Watcher/Slayer pair, there will now be dozens – if not hundreds – of the latter."
"And the whole succession thing could get a little bloody next time if you're not careful," Xander said with a laugh. "But what's this whole 'we' thing? Do you honestly expect me to help you with this thing?"
"I would definitely like for you to do so, if you want," Giles replied seriously. "But I’m certainly not going to force you to."
"Well, we both know I don't have a very high regard for the Council, but since it's going to be under new management…" Xander flashed Giles a smile. "I think I might be able to handle it. Could we maybe rename it as well?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know. Just something that's not quite so…stuffy."
Giles laughed. "Just be glad that you don't know what its full title is."
Before Xander could respond, Anthony and what looked to be most of the other Watchers came out and joined them. "We've decided that we want to join you," he said. "And the others are probably trying to figure out how to slip out the back."
"That's great," Giles responded as both he and Xander stood. Glancing at his watch, he said, "How about this – the younger men and Xander find something to fill the rest of the morning with, while the rest of us go attempt to change the minds of the remaining few. And then we'll meet in the pub down the street for lunch?" After a buzz of agreement, he asked Xander quietly, "You don't mind, do you?"
Xander shook his head. "Besides, I should get to know them if I'm going to be working with them." A light bulb went off. "If I do agree to help you out, does that mean I'll be their boss?"
"More than likely," Giles responded without apparently thinking about it. "Why?"
Xander laughed. "That's just weird. Cool, but weird." After the groups split up, introductions were made and Xander asked, "So, how long have you guys been Watchers?"
"We're not officially Watchers yet," Anthony replied as the group started walking. "We've got about two more years to go – or we did before most of the Watchers were taken out. What do you think Mr. Giles will have us do?"
Xander shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure *he's* even thought that far ahead yet. I'm sure he'll have you finish it in one way or another. But it'll probably mean not having any theses to write." There were several sighs of relief as they entered a used book and music shop.
When they came out – a few of the guys with purchases, Anthony asked, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what happened to your eye?"
"I lost it fighting the First," Xander replied. "Its minion thought it was the best way to get me permanently out of commission, when all it did was lay me up for a few days."
"Can you still fight?" asked one of the other guys who Xander was pretty sure was named Mitchell.
"I can," Xander replied. "But it took me a while and a bunch of one-on-one training with Giles to get back into it."
******
"Good, now again," Giles said and Xander went through the forms again, careful of how he held the sword. Once he had finished and relaxed, Giles patted him on the shoulder. "You're doing very well, Xander. Feel up to a little sparring?"
"Sure," Xander said a little nervously. "Gotta get into it sometime, right?"
Giles' voice was laced with concern, when he replied, "If you're not ready, we can work on some other things some more."
"No, no. I want to do this." Xander let out a short breath. "That's the whole point, right? Me getting back into the saddle and all that?"
"Exactly." Giles picked up a sword. "And I think you're doing remarkably well."
"Yeah, just like riding a bike," Xander muttered under his breath right before they clashed swords. He had done quite well and they ended up in a draw – which pleased both of them, since Giles had attacked him pretty heavily on his left side and out of his range of vision.
After Giles was satisfied that Xander had mastered the sword, they moved onto the quarterstaff and target practice – which Xander also showed an aptitude for. They also worked on some hand-to-hand, which Xander wasn't quite as good at, but he was able to do well enough to know that he wouldn't get beaten into a senseless bloody pulp unless the other guy was *really* really big and/or a black belt in every known Chinese and Japanese fighting style. As they trained, Giles was all business. Any warmth or closeness that had been forged between them from the time spent in the hospital to their arrival in Cleveland was now gone. Xander tried to figure out what had happened and, short of actually asking Giles point blank what was going on, he tried to drop hints and subtly reach out to Giles, but nothing seemed to work, and after a while, he resigned himself to what their relationship now was.
******
Giles drummed his fingers against the table, thinking he had never been this bored or this frustrated ever in his life – not in any of his classes at the Academy and not even with Buffy. The older Watchers who had sided with Giles were currently in a heated debate with the ones who were against it and Giles was beginning to suspect that banging his head against a brick wall would get more results.
"Look," he finally said, cutting in, "we could very well be here until the next apocalypse debating this situation, but here's how it's going to be." He looked pointedly at the three who were holding out. "Considering the number of active Slayers that are now running around the globe, we need as many trained – or almost trained – Watchers as we can get. If I have to do it with only twenty-one, I will, but I honestly would like to have you three onboard – even you, Christian. If any of you can't fulfill the duty you swore to uphold and help these Slayers just because of a difference or two with *me*, I think you need to find something else to occupy your time." He jotted down something on a piece of paper and stood, leaving the paper on the table. "There's my cell phone number. I want each of you to personally think it over and once each of you has made a decision for himself, call me. Gentlemen?" he said to the other men in the room. They stood and as a unified body left, with Giles at their head.
"That was bloody brilliant," Carlton said once they had exited. "I'd always hoped you'd become the head of the Council. Not like this, obviously, but…"
"I think this is the only way I could be," Giles replied, looking at his watch.
"So, what's first on the agenda?"
"Lunch. Then we start getting our hands wet."
"You're not pulling any punches, are you?"
"Not if I can help it. Things need to be done for these girls and soon – I'd hate to think what would happen if we didn't find a way to help them and things got out of hand." They entered the pub to find Xander and the younger Watchers already there. After ordering at the bar, Giles took his pint of beer and sat beside Xander and said, "Having a good time?"
"Better than you, from the looks of it," he replied with a smile as he picked at some of the fries that he and a few of the younger Watchers were sharing. "These guys aren't too bad."
"Well, they haven't finished their schooling yet," Giles replied as he swiped a fry. "The personality removal and stick up the ass don't come until right before graduation." At the horrified looks of the younger men, he said, "I'm just kidding – that practice was abolished in the 1730s. Didn't they tell you that in History?" There were a few quick shakes of a dozen heads. Before taking a sip of his beer, he said, "Well, believe me, you're safe," but he knew Xander caught the hint of a smile as he raised the glass to his lips.
That afternoon, they had a meeting to discuss what their options were to help the Slayers with the Watchers they had. Giles could tell that as they bantered, Xander was becoming increasingly bored and, in fact, so was he – having been out in the field for so long, it had been easy to forget what exactly went on behind the scenes.
When Xander raised his hand, Giles choked back a laugh thinking how no one else in the Council ever did that before speaking, and signaled for him to speak. "You guys do have some sort of information network in place, right?" Xander asked. There were some nods as he continued, "Because, otherwise, how would you find out about the potentials in the first place? Anyway, can't you let them know what the situation is and have them get the word out for all the Slayers in that area to meet at one location and then we send one or two Watchers there to work with them for a while and at least get them some sort of training?"
"It's worth a shot," Carlton mused, after they had thought it over for a minute or two. "It's a better plan than anything else we could probably come up with – especially since we definitely don’t have the manpower at this time to make permanent pairs or teams or what-have-you, depending on the volume of Slayers in any given area. Where did you say you found this young man, Rupert?"
"Skateboarding at a high school in California," Giles replied.
Christian's face turned beet red. "This is one of the Slayer's friends?" he sputtered.
Go here for part 2
Author: Adrian
Disclaimer: What you recognize belongs to Joss & Co. The rest is mine.
Distribution: my site, here, list archives, any others - just ask (I'll say yes, I just want to know where it's going)
Rating: Heavy R
Spoilers: "Chosen"
Summary: Xander helps Giles move - in more ways than one.
Feedback: Please?
Notes: ****** = flashback, *** = change in pov
"Do you own anything that came out after 1975?" Xander practically shouted as he entered the apartment with a bag of groceries and was greeted by a wall of music. They'd only been in London for a little over 24 hours, but he was sure he'd learned more about Giles' taste in music in that time than in all the years they'd know each other previously.
"If I'm not mistaken," Giles replied, turning down the volume on his stereo with a remote but otherwise not pausing from sorting out some papers, "this album came out after you were born. Not every Queen album was done in the 1970s."
Setting the bag down on the table in the tiny kitchen and beginning to unpack it, Xander replied, "I never quite took you for a Queen fan."
"You've heard me sing 'Freebird' by The Who," Giles replied, distracted. "Queen's not much of a jump."
"True." After letting the conversation lag as he put the groceries away, Xander settled on the couch and asked, "Making any headway?"
"I think so. Maybe." Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. I keep thinking that I'll need these papers when I really don't. They're mostly notes from classes at the Academy - things that were drilled into me from a young age."
"Then throw them out," Xander replied. "It'll be easier getting back to the States if we have less stuff to lug around."
Giles leaned back fully against the couch, rested his head on the seat cushion and sighed heavily. "I know I should. And, yet, I can't seem to bring myself to do so. I'm always worried that I just *might* need those notes on the Master from my history class, even though we've completely defeated him."
"I could always do it for you when you're not looking," Xander replied with a smile. He felt something stirring inside of him, as if some long-sleeping feelings were being awakened.
"Might not be a bad idea," Giles agreed. "I think I'll let you finish taking care of this room while I start in the bedroom."
Surveying the papers that were spread out haphazardly in the living room, Xander asked, "How did you accumulate so much? You were only here, what, a year and half before the potentials?"
Giles sighed and gave a small shrug. "What can I say? I'm a packrat. I know that most of this should've gone a long time ago, but it's hard letting go. I guess when you learn from a young age how transient everything is, you want to hold on as tightly as possible."
"Yeah, I know how that is," Xander replied softly.
Giles heaved himself up into a standing position. "Time to move on, I suppose," he said before heading into the master bedroom.
Xander watched him go before grabbing a trash bag out of the box on the table and began throwing papers in it. He rifled through the stacks with an objective eye, just in case, before discarding them. Some drawings and a few pages of notes that looked like they could be helpful were kept, but by the time Xander was done, about 99% of the papers had wound up in the bag. As Xander was finishing straightening up, Giles appeared from the bedroom, looking even more exasperated than when he had entered it.
"What do you feel like for supper?" Giles asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Doesn't matter," Xander replied with a shrug as he stood. "We could go out if you want. Or I bought a few things since we are going to be here at least some of the time."
Giles went into the kitchen and looked in the refrigerator. "Well, it looks like we have enough to make chicken stir-fry. Would you mind staying in?"
"Not at all. It'll be a nice change of pace from the whirl-wind of the past few days."
"That it would." Giles retrieved the necessary items from the refrigerator as Xander retrieved the things they would need from the cupboards and the two men began preparing the meal in a comfortable silence.
In short order, Xander was leaning against the counter and watching as Giles browned the chicken, the chopped vegetables sitting to the side waiting to be added, and the rice cooked in the microwave. A million things ran through his mind, none of which he was sure how to verbalize or put into action. After licking his lips, Xander began, "When, you know... when you stayed with me in the hospital did that - did it...mean anything?"
******
Xander groaned and slowly opened his eye. The initial pain from when Caleb had stuck his finger into Xander's eye was still persisting, but was more of a dull ache now that the painkillers had taken effect. Hearing a rustling of pages, he turned his head to see Giles closing a book.
"How're you feeling?" Giles asked gently.
"Like I've just had my eye poked out," Xander replied with a weak smile. Somehow, having Giles there made him feel better. Safer. "What'd the doctor say?"
"That you're very lucky. They're going to keep you here for a couple of days for observation to make sure that an infection doesn't set in and to see how your body reacts to the trauma."
"How're the girls?" Xander asked.
"They're doing well. I think Buffy's taking what happened a little too personally, but you know how she is. The others are recovering."
"Good." Looking at the papers and books spread about, he asked, "What're you working on?"
Giles sighed and Xander thought that for the first time he could actually see the weight the other man was shouldering. "I'm just trying to find anything we might've missed on the First or the Torak-Han - or Caleb even, but so far having no such luck."
"You should take a break. How're we going to be able to kick their asses if you're out of commission?" Giles smiled tiredly at that, but put the book he was still holding aside. After a few quiet moments, in which Giles wondered if Xander had fallen back asleep, Xander quietly asked, "Tell me something about when you were younger."
"Well, there was a sweets shop down the street from where I went to school in Oxford – they had everything you could imagine. It was like something out of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Whenever I got money from home or for a special occasion, the first thing I would do would be to go down there and buy a few things. For us, sweets were worth more than gold." He smiled fondly. "I remember trading Charlie Tucker some lollies for a jawbreaker that lasted me over a week and each of us thinking we had gotten the better deal."
"Did you like going there?"
Giles half-shrugged. "I suppose. It wasn't like I had any actual experience anywhere else to compare it to." His look stopped Xander from commenting. "And, no, Sunnydale High doesn't count. By the time I arrived there to be Buffy's Watcher, I was mature enough to be able to realize how petty the whole school social scene was – even back at the Academy."
Xander shifted. "Did you ever keep in touch with anyone?"
"Not really. Every once in a while I might get a letter or a phone call from someone in my class wanting to check up and we'd usually exchange news then of who was alive, who wasn't, whose Potential was still alive, whose wasn't – things like that. I assume it's the same for most high schoolers – no matter how good their intentions." To prove his point, he asked, "Outside of our little group, who do you still keep in touch with?"
"No one, really," Xander admitted. "Most left after graduation. The rest…with the First, who knows what'll happen to everyone else."
A nurse came in and asked, "How're you feeling, Mr. Harris?" as she began to check him over.
"Okay," he replied. "A little tired, maybe."
"Then maybe you shouldn't wear yourself out with visitors," she responded with a smile, although clearly inferring that Giles should probably go, as she tried to take Xander's temperature.
"Giles is fine."
"Are you sure?" Giles asked Xander.
"Absolutely."
"Please keep your mouth shut, Mr. Harris," the nurse ordered.
"Yes, ma'am." And Xander clamped his mouth shut.
******
"When, you know... when you stayed with me in the hospital did that - did it...mean anything?"
Giles considered Xander's question carefully, not wanting to get his hopes up, before answering, "Did you want it to mean anything?"
"Maybe."
Giles looked at the young man and saw the same lost and confused expression that Xander had worn numerous times in the early days of their relationship when he wasn't sure what was going on, or where his place was in it. After quickly adding the vegetables and some water and covering the whole thing, Giles turned and closed a small portion of the distance between them. He surveyed the younger man and how mature he had become and how he didn't flinch under Giles' gaze. The teenager had definitely become a man. "What if I said maybe it did?" he asked quietly.
Xander visibly swallowed and nodded, not looking at Giles – instead focusing on a spot slightly to Giles' right and near the floor. Giles was almost certain he could actually *see* Xander pulling his thoughts together. "Yeah, me too," he finally responded with another nod.
Giles fought the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him, but instead he broke the moment and turned to check on their supper. He knew that it was a dangerous thing to want, to hope, to desire; but, nevertheless, a spark had been lit and, if he wasn't careful, history just might repeat itself. The microwave dinged and Xander went to retrieve the rice. Turning off the stove, Giles added the sauce and mixed everything together as Xander divided the rice between the two plates. Once Giles had added the vegetables and chicken to the rice, Xander handed him a fork and a napkin and they both took a plate over to the small table that had been tucked into the corner. Before sitting down, Xander grabbed both of them a beer out of the fridge.
They ate quietly – Xander obviously lost in his own thoughts, and Giles trying to figure out his own. The time he had spent with Xander in the hospital and in the following days up to the fight with the First had inadvertently awoken his slumbering emotions. The proximity had forced him to realize that the teenager he had met so many years ago had truly matured and was a force to be reckoned with in his own right. And it had shocked Giles to realize that it was enough of a force that, out of all of them, the embodiment of the First had physically attacked Xander first and without provocation. And the attack had awoken a protective streak in Giles that he hadn't realized was there. It had nothing to do with the fact that Xander couldn't protect himself – obviously, he didn't have the abilities that Buffy, Faith, the potentials or even Willow had, but he knew how to handle himself in a fight. No, the desire to inflict pain that Giles had felt was something else entirely than what he would've felt for one of the girls.
And now that the issue had been brought out into the open, he couldn't deny that the feelings he had hadn't gone away in the month since they had defeated the First. They were still there – lurking at the edges of his mind and just past the walls he had placed around his heart.
After they had finished eating and had just set their dishes in the sink, Giles acted without a thought to what he was doing or the possible consequences and, gently cupping Xander's cheek, kissed him.
***
Xander froze for the tiniest fraction of a second, before yielding to the kiss. It was hot and hungry and demanding and, oh, God…Anya had never kissed him like this and Giles' assault on his mouth was turning Xander on quicker than it should've been able to. He kissed Giles back with equal fervor, his timidity wiped away by the fact that Giles didn't pull away from the kiss and even stepped in a little closer, becoming more demanding. He gripped the combined edge of counter and sink closest to him to steady himself with one hand and reflexively brought his other arm up and wrapped it around Giles' waist as Giles brought his other hand up to rest on Xander's shoulder as his other hand drifted down to cup the back of Xander's neck. Giles broke the kiss, but his lips lingered a breath away from Xander's and Xander closed the gap for another, shorter, and slightly less intense kiss. When they finally did pull apart, Xander saw that Giles' eyes were dilated, his lips looked slightly swollen, he was slightly flushed, and he was panting ever so slightly through his mouth.
"Wow," Xander said, breaking the silence first.
"I would have to agree," Giles replied. "I'm sorry if I startled you."
"Don't worry about it." Xander smiled. "Unexpected? Yes. Unwanted? No, definitely not."
"I’m glad to hear that." Giles smiled as well and gently stroked the back of Xander's neck with his hand once. "Well…"
"Yeah, we should do these dishes."
That night in bed – well, the couch – Xander replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. It had definitely been unexpected. Even though neither of them could deny that they had gotten closer over the three days that Xander had been made to stay in the hospital and then in the week after that leading up to the fight with the First, once the fight was over and the dust had literally settled, Xander could almost physically feel Giles pulling away from him. He couldn't figure out if it was because Giles had thought he needed time and space to grieve over Anya's death or if it was because now that they had all survived, the level of danger simply wasn't there and therefore, Giles felt that the relationship could go back to the way it had always been. But Xander hadn't wanted it to go back to the way it had always been.
After he had left Anya at the altar and they had broken up, Xander had, obviously, done a lot of thinking and some, at first unsettling, things came to the forefront. While he had truly loved Anya and would always be attracted to her and to other women, he could honestly say that he was also attracted to men and Giles in particular. Somewhere deep down, he had always known it, even if he hadn't wanted to admit it in any way, shape, or form. The appreciation he had felt in the beginning for Giles making him feel like he was actually worth something, even if Giles seemed to be suffering his presence because he was Buffy's friend more than anything else, had changed and grown over the years as their relationship had changed and grown. And now – now he wanted more.
***
The next morning, Giles awoke early and slipped out of bed. The flat was still cool, so he pulled on a pair of sweats over his boxers before heading out into the kitchen to start the coffee. They had a lot to do that day and would need to get an early start. After the pot was made, he poured himself a cup and added a liberal dose of sugar, before padding over to the window to stare out across the city and blatantly ignore the still sleeping form not far from him. This was usually his favorite time of day – everything was still and quiet and he was able to get his thoughts in order before the busyness of the day pulled him in a thousand different directions.
The events of the previous evening, while not completely undesired, had been quite unexpected. Giles had been proud of the way that Xander had grown and matured since he had first met him so many years before. When the first inklings of attraction had started to stir in him about two years before, Giles had clamped down tight on them for so many reasons – age difference, propriety, Anya, and many more. But then, in the hospital, they had naturally grown closer than they had ever previously been and Giles thought he was getting the same vibe from Xander that he was trying his best to not send to the other man. It had both surprised and thrilled him that he may actually have a chance. And then, when Xander didn't pull back once they had gotten home, Giles was encouraged that after they were finished with the First, and if they both survived, that they would have a chance to do something. After he had found out that Anya had died, Giles unconsciously withdrew from Xander, wanting to give him a chance to grieve for his former fiancée and hated himself for it, knowing that Xander would have probably rather had the comfort of a friend who had known her instead of empty space.
When it had been decided that going to London to take stock of the Watchers Council and see if it was salvageable in any way, shape, or form was a necessary task to help the Slayers, Giles had felt a pang of guilt for inwardly sighing in relief when both Buffy and Faith opted out of going because of wanting to stay with the new Slayers and Willow had passed on going because of the memories she had of the last time she had been in the country. And even though Xander seemed resigned to going because he was the only other logical choice, Giles had – and still did – hoped that he could show Xander that he hadn't made the wrong decision in coming and he also hoped that they would have a chance to lay everything out and figure out what they wanted out of their relationship.
Xander stirred, breaking Giles out of his reverie. "Good morning," he said as he stretched.
"Good morning," Giles replied with a smile before taking a sip of his coffee.
Xander turned on his side towards Giles and, partially curling up, asked, "So, what's on the agenda for today?"
"We need to go down to the makeshift Council headquarters and basically take over."
Xander looked surprised. "Do what? You're kidding, right?"
"No at all. From what I've gathered, what's left of the Council is made up of a mixture of antiquated Watchers whose methods are horrendously outdated and young idealists not even out of the Academy who don't know any better. I think it's high time the Council moved out of the sixth century."
"And you're just the man to do it?"
"You bet." Giles drained what was left in his coffee mug. "And you're going to help." He stood up straight. "Come on, we've got a lot of work to do."
***
As Xander brushed his teeth, he couldn't help but think of the shiver that had gone down his spine when Giles told him what they were going to do that day. It was like he had changed – or had at least started to – into another person and it was hotter than what Xander remembered from the last time Giles had acted like that. As his mind went back to the other times Giles had acted like this, he started to wonder if Ethan was around since he seemed to be the common denominator. After he had dressed and eaten a bowl of cereal, they were on their way across the city, weaving their way through the Underground, Xander following Giles from one train to another and extremely happy that it wasn't rush hour, since he was having a hard enough time following him as it was.
They paused just inside a modest office building and Xander watched as Giles made some tiny adjustments to his appearance and Xander could almost feel a shift in Giles' personality. Something was definitely different, even if he couldn't put a finger on it. Then they continued on – up a flight of steps and past a secretary who called for them to stop before Giles pushed open a set of double doors into a conference room. Two dozen heads of various ages turned as one in their direction at the unwelcome interruption and Xander had to force himself not to shrink back under the weight of their stares. But Giles kept going until he reached the foot of the table and leaned over it, hands balled into fists supported his weight.
"I've come to take over the Council," he said levelly and with more authority than Xander had ever heard him use.
"You can't do that, Rupert," said the old man who was sitting at the other end of the table.
"I can and I am, Christian," he replied. "I have had an active slayer for longer than any of you, I have helped avert more apocalypses, my Slayer was one of the few who survived the Cruciamentum, and we defeated the First. You will listen to me and do as I say or you will find yourselves out of a job."
Xander watched the faces of the other Watchers as Giles spoke. Most looked shocked and surprised. A couple, like Christian, wore expressions of barely concealed anger. And one or two actually looked hopeful.
Giles stood and began slowly walking counterclockwise around the table. "Now, we have a situation on our hands. Because of our battle with the First, all the potentials on earth are now full-fledged Slayers and they need our help." He stopped and leaned into Christian's personal space. "*All* of our help."
"T-th-they *WHAT*?" Christian sputtered. "That's not even possible."
Giles straightened and started moving again. "Actually, yes, it is. Especially when you have the Scythe."
Christian's eyes, as well as the eyes of the other older men in the room, grew huge and Xander found that he was enjoying their discomfort. "You have the *Scythe*?"
"Well, not on me, obviously, but, yes, we do. Take that and a highly powerful witch who knows what she'd doing…" Giles turned towards Christian and shrugged nonchalantly.
"Willow Rosenberg is practicing magic again?!? I thought we forbade her from doing so."
"The *Council* may have done so, but Willow owes you no allegiance past what she feels for Buffy."
"Quentin Travers never should have rehired you," Christian muttered under his breath.
Giles resumed his place at the foot of the table. "Ah, but I would still be here, regardless of whether or not I was still an employee of the Council. At least this way I have a legitimate claim of succession to the head of the Council, and I intent to fulfill that position."
"You? How dare you assume that *you* could have any legitimate reasons for taking over the Council?"
"I assume because, according to the Council's bylaws, I'm completely and rightfully allowed. When the position of the head of Council becomes available, the Watcher who had most recently had an active Slayer killed in action was the first one given the option of running the Council, in the desire of wanting to keep current with the times. And considering the fact that none of you *careerists*," Giles practically spat the word out, "have ever had an active Slayer, the rest of you are too young, all the other things I mentioned before, *and* the fact that Buffy has died three times, I think it's fair to assume that I'm the best candidate for the job. Now, whether you like it or not, I am taking over. If you wish to join me, I would be more than happy to allow you do to so. But, if you can't, feel free to find employment elsewhere or, as in some of your cases, retire early. My associate and I will be waiting at the park next door for your answer."
Giles turned sharply and walked briskly towards the exit, giving a curt nod to the receptionist on his way out. Xander hesitated for a second, still blown away by what he had seen, before he quickly turned and headed after Giles. As they neared the steps at the other end of the hallway, they heard a rustle of clothing and a hurried step and turned to see one of the younger Watchers running after them.
When he reached them, he grinned and extended his hand. "Mr. Giles, it's *so* amazing to finally get a chance to meet you," he said excitedly and slightly out of breath.
"Thank you," Giles replied modestly as he shook the newcomer's hand. "And you are…?"
"Anthony Miller, sir. I decided to write my thesis about you – which, obviously, didn't endear me to my professors."
"Interesting. I hadn't realized that I'd live long enough to merit such a thing. What can I do for you, Anthony?"
"I just wanted to let you know that I want to join you and what you're planning on doing."
"Good to know." Giles smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Anthony."
Anthony blushed. "I should get back in there and help persuade some more of them. I'm sure you don't want the crotchety old birds to get the good ones, do you?"
"Not in the least. We'll be downstairs waiting." Anthony nodded as they began their descent.
"That was *amazing*," Xander said when they were out of earshot. "It's like you became a whole other person."
Giles laughed. "A little awe-struck, are we?" he asked.
"Maybe a little," Xander replied with an amused smile. After exiting the building and sitting down on one of the benches, he asked, "So, do you have a grand plan for how you're going to run this place?"
"Well," Giles responded thoughtfully, "we're obviously going to need to replenish our numbers – especially with all the new Slayers. And the curriculum at the Academy sorely needs updating. And I think that we need to change some of the rules and bylaws about the Watchers – partly because of the fact that instead of having numerous Watcher/Potential pairs and one active Watcher/Slayer pair, there will now be dozens – if not hundreds – of the latter."
"And the whole succession thing could get a little bloody next time if you're not careful," Xander said with a laugh. "But what's this whole 'we' thing? Do you honestly expect me to help you with this thing?"
"I would definitely like for you to do so, if you want," Giles replied seriously. "But I’m certainly not going to force you to."
"Well, we both know I don't have a very high regard for the Council, but since it's going to be under new management…" Xander flashed Giles a smile. "I think I might be able to handle it. Could we maybe rename it as well?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I don't know. Just something that's not quite so…stuffy."
Giles laughed. "Just be glad that you don't know what its full title is."
Before Xander could respond, Anthony and what looked to be most of the other Watchers came out and joined them. "We've decided that we want to join you," he said. "And the others are probably trying to figure out how to slip out the back."
"That's great," Giles responded as both he and Xander stood. Glancing at his watch, he said, "How about this – the younger men and Xander find something to fill the rest of the morning with, while the rest of us go attempt to change the minds of the remaining few. And then we'll meet in the pub down the street for lunch?" After a buzz of agreement, he asked Xander quietly, "You don't mind, do you?"
Xander shook his head. "Besides, I should get to know them if I'm going to be working with them." A light bulb went off. "If I do agree to help you out, does that mean I'll be their boss?"
"More than likely," Giles responded without apparently thinking about it. "Why?"
Xander laughed. "That's just weird. Cool, but weird." After the groups split up, introductions were made and Xander asked, "So, how long have you guys been Watchers?"
"We're not officially Watchers yet," Anthony replied as the group started walking. "We've got about two more years to go – or we did before most of the Watchers were taken out. What do you think Mr. Giles will have us do?"
Xander shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure *he's* even thought that far ahead yet. I'm sure he'll have you finish it in one way or another. But it'll probably mean not having any theses to write." There were several sighs of relief as they entered a used book and music shop.
When they came out – a few of the guys with purchases, Anthony asked, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what happened to your eye?"
"I lost it fighting the First," Xander replied. "Its minion thought it was the best way to get me permanently out of commission, when all it did was lay me up for a few days."
"Can you still fight?" asked one of the other guys who Xander was pretty sure was named Mitchell.
"I can," Xander replied. "But it took me a while and a bunch of one-on-one training with Giles to get back into it."
******
"Good, now again," Giles said and Xander went through the forms again, careful of how he held the sword. Once he had finished and relaxed, Giles patted him on the shoulder. "You're doing very well, Xander. Feel up to a little sparring?"
"Sure," Xander said a little nervously. "Gotta get into it sometime, right?"
Giles' voice was laced with concern, when he replied, "If you're not ready, we can work on some other things some more."
"No, no. I want to do this." Xander let out a short breath. "That's the whole point, right? Me getting back into the saddle and all that?"
"Exactly." Giles picked up a sword. "And I think you're doing remarkably well."
"Yeah, just like riding a bike," Xander muttered under his breath right before they clashed swords. He had done quite well and they ended up in a draw – which pleased both of them, since Giles had attacked him pretty heavily on his left side and out of his range of vision.
After Giles was satisfied that Xander had mastered the sword, they moved onto the quarterstaff and target practice – which Xander also showed an aptitude for. They also worked on some hand-to-hand, which Xander wasn't quite as good at, but he was able to do well enough to know that he wouldn't get beaten into a senseless bloody pulp unless the other guy was *really* really big and/or a black belt in every known Chinese and Japanese fighting style. As they trained, Giles was all business. Any warmth or closeness that had been forged between them from the time spent in the hospital to their arrival in Cleveland was now gone. Xander tried to figure out what had happened and, short of actually asking Giles point blank what was going on, he tried to drop hints and subtly reach out to Giles, but nothing seemed to work, and after a while, he resigned himself to what their relationship now was.
******
Giles drummed his fingers against the table, thinking he had never been this bored or this frustrated ever in his life – not in any of his classes at the Academy and not even with Buffy. The older Watchers who had sided with Giles were currently in a heated debate with the ones who were against it and Giles was beginning to suspect that banging his head against a brick wall would get more results.
"Look," he finally said, cutting in, "we could very well be here until the next apocalypse debating this situation, but here's how it's going to be." He looked pointedly at the three who were holding out. "Considering the number of active Slayers that are now running around the globe, we need as many trained – or almost trained – Watchers as we can get. If I have to do it with only twenty-one, I will, but I honestly would like to have you three onboard – even you, Christian. If any of you can't fulfill the duty you swore to uphold and help these Slayers just because of a difference or two with *me*, I think you need to find something else to occupy your time." He jotted down something on a piece of paper and stood, leaving the paper on the table. "There's my cell phone number. I want each of you to personally think it over and once each of you has made a decision for himself, call me. Gentlemen?" he said to the other men in the room. They stood and as a unified body left, with Giles at their head.
"That was bloody brilliant," Carlton said once they had exited. "I'd always hoped you'd become the head of the Council. Not like this, obviously, but…"
"I think this is the only way I could be," Giles replied, looking at his watch.
"So, what's first on the agenda?"
"Lunch. Then we start getting our hands wet."
"You're not pulling any punches, are you?"
"Not if I can help it. Things need to be done for these girls and soon – I'd hate to think what would happen if we didn't find a way to help them and things got out of hand." They entered the pub to find Xander and the younger Watchers already there. After ordering at the bar, Giles took his pint of beer and sat beside Xander and said, "Having a good time?"
"Better than you, from the looks of it," he replied with a smile as he picked at some of the fries that he and a few of the younger Watchers were sharing. "These guys aren't too bad."
"Well, they haven't finished their schooling yet," Giles replied as he swiped a fry. "The personality removal and stick up the ass don't come until right before graduation." At the horrified looks of the younger men, he said, "I'm just kidding – that practice was abolished in the 1730s. Didn't they tell you that in History?" There were a few quick shakes of a dozen heads. Before taking a sip of his beer, he said, "Well, believe me, you're safe," but he knew Xander caught the hint of a smile as he raised the glass to his lips.
That afternoon, they had a meeting to discuss what their options were to help the Slayers with the Watchers they had. Giles could tell that as they bantered, Xander was becoming increasingly bored and, in fact, so was he – having been out in the field for so long, it had been easy to forget what exactly went on behind the scenes.
When Xander raised his hand, Giles choked back a laugh thinking how no one else in the Council ever did that before speaking, and signaled for him to speak. "You guys do have some sort of information network in place, right?" Xander asked. There were some nods as he continued, "Because, otherwise, how would you find out about the potentials in the first place? Anyway, can't you let them know what the situation is and have them get the word out for all the Slayers in that area to meet at one location and then we send one or two Watchers there to work with them for a while and at least get them some sort of training?"
"It's worth a shot," Carlton mused, after they had thought it over for a minute or two. "It's a better plan than anything else we could probably come up with – especially since we definitely don’t have the manpower at this time to make permanent pairs or teams or what-have-you, depending on the volume of Slayers in any given area. Where did you say you found this young man, Rupert?"
"Skateboarding at a high school in California," Giles replied.
Christian's face turned beet red. "This is one of the Slayer's friends?" he sputtered.
Go here for part 2
