Fic - One for Sorrow

Oct 08, 2008 23:00

two pieces of resurrected fiction. One a drabble and the other the titled subject matter.

The drabbled was originally written for open_on_sunday

Giles S1 - A Time to Die

The preparations were nearly done. A sadness settled over his heart. He was afraid but this had to be done. He couldn’t let a girl as young as Buffy go to her death. Giles knew he couldn’t defeat the Master but he would at least keep him busy until the night of prophecy passed.

His will was in order. He had written a note for Buffy and one for her to read to the Council so they would know what happened and send her a new Watcher. He couldn’t tell her or Jenny his plans. Alone, he made prepared to die.

One for Sorrow
Author: cornerofmadness
Disclaimer - I own none of these characters. We all know who does. Thanks to Joss for letting us play with them a little
Rating - PG-13
Feedback - Yes!
Summary - A little relaxation is in order after the Master is defeated
Author’s Note -thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta. This was originally written for the BtVS/AtS lyric wheel#3 and being dusted off now for The Prophecy Girl challenge at fantas_magoria (and it rather neatly fits prompt #3 after a fashion). The lyric challenge is to use at least one line of the lyrics in the story but NOT have it be as a song on the radio or them singing etc. And this challenge had the added stipulation it had to be first season of either show.
Lyrics - Magpie by Death by Chocolate (provided at the end). Thanks to Jess for the lyrics.
***

I watched them disperse into the crowd at the dance. They garnered a few stares and a derisive snicker or two, thanks to Buffy’s bedraggled condition. I wanted to rush in and defend her honor but I stayed on the outside of the crowd, Jenny close by but not so close as to be improper; couldn’t have that in front of the kids. They broke into little clumps of humanity; Cordelia gathering her followers like Artemis in a wooded glen; Xander and Willow collapsing into each other in a chaste way that only long standing friends could do; and Buffy and Angel move onto the dance floor. She was almost hidden in his embrace as he pulled her into a slow dance.
I should stop this. I shouldn’t allow her to remain with him. It’s wrong on so many levels, I can’t imagine why I haven’t acted before. A little voice inside my throbbing head pipes up, “because you’re a practical, almost greedy man. You see the benefits of having a tamed vampire at your beck and call. You can see the value of his wisdom, his insider knowledge and you know the only way to him is through Buffy.” But for tonight I had no plans of stepping in. She deserved whatever she wanted, because tonight she had given up her life trying to defeat the Master. That she even has the energy or desire to be at this dance is nothing short of a miracle. I attributed it to shock. We were all wading in it.
I turned abruptly, wincing as my whole body told me of each and every bruise and strain. Between the skull-rattling shot Buffy had given me and all the effort going into beating back vampires and hell beasts, I was one shambling hulk of agony. Jenny seemed to sense it, laying her hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay, Rupert?”
I looked into her tired, dark eyes, grateful for her concern. “Nothing a week of sleep won’t cure. Come on, let’s leave them to it. They don’t need us chaperoning.” And my poor head couldn’t take more of this noise.
Jenny’s full, sensual lips turned up at the corners. “You read my mind. Any place in particular?”
I wanted to say back to my place, some scotch and a good shag to celebrate not dying but truth is, for some reason Jenny flummoxes me, makes me shy beyond reason. And I was far too exhausted any how. Something told me I’d never get my todger up at this point. But there were other things to do, places to go and forget the horror. “Follow me.”
“I drove,” she reminded me. To get to the bronze, we had crammed into her car and the one Xander had borrowed for the night in anticipation of going to this dance. I wasn’t sure why Jenny and I had even followed the kids here in the first place. I think maybe we weren’t ready to let them out of our sight, not yet convinced we had all survived.
I held out my hand and she plopped the keys into it. Her car was a little battle scarred but at least it wasn’t embedded in the school like Cordelia’s. I drove us to a quiet street in the business district and parked. Leading the way to an unmarked door in a large brick building, I opened it.
Jenny gave me a curious look, scanning the area, obviously trying to place where we were. “Are you breaking and entering?”
I smiled, snorting, “Not quite,” as I ushered her inside. The bar had a hush over it, thankfully lacking in the loud nonsense that passed as music today. Pink Floyd played softly over the speakers. A few heads turned look at us in the dim lighting then the patrons turned back to their drinks. I went to a table near the dart board and pulled out a chair for Jenny before seating myself.
“Where are we?”
“McGillicuddy’s,” I replied as a blond buxom waitress, Cat, came over.
“Hi, Rupert, your usual?” she asked.
“Thank you, Cat, yes. What would you like Jenny?”
She was still staring at me in amazement, as if something in her world had just gone askew. “Uh, a Tom Collins.”
“Coming right up.”
“Bring me a pack of Marlboro’s,” I added. I didn’t really like American cigarettes but it was next to impossible to find Silk Cuts or Dunhill’s without going to a specialty shop in L.A. Cat headed off and Jenny raised an eyebrow at my last request. “Sorry, but at this point I need one.” I was none too apologetic.
“I can’t argue that. Are you sure you’re up to this, Rupert?” She brushed my hair, such as it was these days, back off my forehead. “That’s one hell of a bruise Buffy gave you.”
“Deservedly so.”
Jenny pursed her lips but didn’t say anything to that. “How in the world did you find this place?”
I grinned cheekily, secretly grateful to her for changing the subject. “I have my ways.”
“I didn’t think you ever left the library.” She smiled back.
“On rare occasions.” That came out heavy with regrets. For the most part, I loved what I do. I found my work thrilling, fascinating, but every once in a while Ripper Giles wanted out and he hated being kept chained.
“But not recently. You haven’t slept in at least a day, maybe more.” The sympathy in her dark eyes made me feel good and a little weak at the same time. “Maybe we should just go home.”
I shook my head as Cat returned with our orders. “I couldn’t sleep now. I’m too keyed up. Thanks, Cat.”
“I started a tab,” she replied and hustled off to the next table.
I took a deep swallow of my Merlin’s Ale, enjoying the joke, a mage’s drink, then ripped the cigarettes open. I slid one between my lips, lit it and sucked greedily. Hot smoke seared its way into me, feeling wonderful.
One of Jenny’s delicate eyebrows arched. “Better?”
“Much.” I took another drag, not meeting her eyes. “Jenny, I’m sorry about not being completely honest with you, for keeping you in the dark. It’s just…”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “I know, Rupert. It’s all right. It’s not the sort of thing you talk about without people thinking you’re insane.”
“We’re just lucky you were here. We couldn’t have done it without you.” I meant that. The information she provided had been helpful. Her friendship was invaluable.
Jenny waved that off. “All I did was make it easier for you to get some information.”
“It was far more than that, and you know it,” I said strongly and her face brightened. “You stood up to things better than I did,” I added, remembering her yelling at me for coming apart in front of the kids.
“You’re closer to them than I am, especially to Buffy.” She stabbed at the ice in her drink. “You knew what you were asking her to do. I’m not sure I could have done that.”
I took a deep swallow of my ale, the strong, hoppy taste filling my senses, its bitterness lingering on the tongue. “It’s my job. I’m not supposed to get close to the Slayer. I’m supposed to be the general who orders out the troops.”
“But when the troops is a lone teenaged girl, things change.” Jenny’s wide, expressive eyes went sad. I knew exactly what she meant. Buffy was more than a weapon to me, another thing I couldn’t confess to the Council. To them, out of necessity, the Slayer was just another too and, often one, that was treated shoddily. Too many Watchers were hidebound. They couldn’t see the human face their weapon had.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to banish the look of anguish in Buffy’s eyes when she over heard Angel and I talking about the Codex, when she learned she was destined to die. “I stood there telling her it was her duty to go out and die when what I wanted to say was ‘go with your gut and run’. And in the back of my head I was thinking, what would Jenny think of me, knowing I could order a child to lay down her life because that’s what she was destined to do.” I dared a look Jenny’s way. Her expression was so calm, it shocked me.
“It wasn’t like that, Rupert, not exactly. You did everything you could think of to circumvent the prophecy. Her hand closed over mine. You were willing to die in her place.”
And I had been. What would the Council think of that? I think I’ll keep that bit of bravado out of my diary lest they think I’ve become too close to Buffy to function properly as her Watcher. And they would be right. Somehow, she had become like a daughter to me and it was so subtle, I hadn’t even noticed it until Angel gave me that damnable Codex. “It’s my job, Jenny, to send her out there night after night. I’m here to guide her but in the end, it can only end one way: Slayers die young.”
She took a long drink before speaking. “And beating yourself up over it won’t change that. Even if you went back to England tonight, Rupert, Buffy would still be the Slayer and eventually, something will try to kill her just because of that. With you here to watch over her, she stands a chance.” Jenny’s dark eyes filled with tears. “It’s a horrible job you have but without you and Buffy and others like you, where would the rest of us be? How long before Hell spreads over the face of the earth like a cancer?”
I struggled not to cry myself, hardly the manly thing to do. “I lost her tonight, Jenny. I’ve barely had time to work with her, to train her right. And she’s not one to listen…” I gulped down my ale and snuffed my fag before it burned to the filter. “I try but much of the time I don’t get through.”
“She listens more than you realize,” Jenny said softly.
Some tears escaped my control. “I pray you’re right, Jenny. I’m glad I wasn’t conscious to see her leave tonight. I wouldn’t have let her go. I didn’t want her to die. This has never happened before. A Slayer has never been revived after she’s died. Xander has no idea what kind of miracle he performed. And that is going into my report to the Watchers. They have been hounding me to separate Buffy from her friends.”
“Whatever for?” Jenny looked horrified, her drink nearly slipping from her grasp.
“A Slayer is supposed to work alone.” I slid my glasses back up. “And if I had followed procedure, Buffy would be dead and the Master would be slaughtering us all. I know it’s terribly dangerous to allow Willow and Xander to help Buffy but they’ve proven time and again that they can handle themselves. Cordelia, as well. I don’t have the heart to isolate Buffy from them.”
“If you even think about trying, Rupert, I’ll never speak to you again.” The set of Jenny’s pale face told me that wasn’t an idle threat.
“Have no fear. I couldn’t keep her from Angel if I tried.” I sighed heavily. “I never want to stay behind again, knowing for certain Buffy will die. I’m not sure I’d survive it again.”
Jenny leaned over the table and kissed me. It took me by surprise. I was barely able to return the kiss. Jenny’s strong hand slid behind my head, pulling me closer. I didn’t wince as her fingers touched a place that felt like a rotted spot on a melon. Her lips met mine ardently. I let her tongue slip inside me, tasting, probing, exploring. As she sat back, breaking the kiss, I wondered what I had done right to deserve her.
“No more talking about depressing things. We survived. We should celebrate,” she insisted.
I smiled, polishing off my ale. “I agree. One down.” I held up the glass and waved at Cat.
“One for sorrow,” Jenny said.
“Hmm?”
“It’s an old rhyme. You’ve had your one for sorrow. Two for joy,” Jenny said.
“We could use all the joy we can get,” I replied, as Cat returned. “Another round, please, Cat.”
“You got it.”
“What’s six for?” I asked.
“A stomach pump?” Jenny smirked. “Six is for gold. Just keep in mind I’m not sure I can carry you home.”
I laughed but I was willing to take the risk. By three, we were playing darts, by four, we clung to each other dancing to “Nights in White Satin” by the Moody Blues, by six, Cat had called us a cab, which I was fairly shocked would run in Sunnydale at night. I ended up at Jenny’s, made it to the couch and collapsed. She gave me a blanket and a pillow. I knew by morning I’d feel like hell but I didn’t care. I had survived. Buffy was alive. Being totally pissed and shagged out on the couch might not qualify as a success as far as Jenny was concerned but there would be other nights. In the back of my head I heard that voice again saying, ‘one for sorrow.” And I knew so long as I was Buffy’s Watcher I’d be hearing that voice, waiting for the night she didn’t come back and it would be more than one for sorrow.
***
magpie, magpie one for sorrow,
two for joy three for girl,
four for a boy five for silver,
six for gold seven for a secret never to be told.
magpie eight for a wish,
nine for a kiss ten for a bed you must not miss
one for sorrow, two for joy
three for girl, four for a boy magpie, magpie
dance break
magpie, magpie
m for magic a arise
g you’re a genius
p you’re a prize
I would like to agree to
~ I apologize this and the next lines are a bit muffled.
magpie is not for tent magpie
one for sorrow, two for joy
three for girl, four for a boy five for silver,
six for gold seven for a secret never to be told.
magpie, magpie another instrumental dance break>
magpie, magpie magpie, magpie magpie, magpie (words fade out)
“magpie”, a song performed by death by chocolate.

112 prophecy girl, fiction

Previous post Next post
Up