Goodbye to you, Sunnydale. Giles ficlet.
Feeling tired and generally blah, so thought I'd re-post a short ficlet I wrote almost a year ago. It's an attempt to look inside Giles' head and try to work out why he left Sunnydale (again). (I think it fits with the guidelines - if not I'll be happy to take it down.)
Title: Goodbye to you, Sunnydale.
Summary: Giles' thoughts on the plane and a couple of snapshots of other characters - because there are always consequences.
Setting: Very end of 'Tabula Rasa'.
Rating: Suitable for all, but angsty.
Feedback: Pretty please?
Goodbye to you, Sunnydale
Giles disliked flying. Mostly because his ears always blocked up, and he on principle refused to put chewing gum in his mouth. But since swallowing was necessary, he asked the stewardess for a gin and tonic. It was a long flight and whiskey would get him drunk too quickly. Although that might not be a bad thing...
Tiredly he rubbed his eyes. Hopefully this would be his last flight in quite a while - he’d not made any promises of returning soon, even though he had seen the quiet pleading in Buffy’s eyes, somewhere behind the anger. And before he could change his mind she’d walked off, a ‘goodbye’ dying on his lips.
The subdued farewell scene played itself out again in his mind, as the cool drink spread out inside him, like magic creating warmth in its path. Anya had been too embarrassed still to say anything much, and Xander had merely shaken his hand. Tara... Tara had been very quiet. Unusually so, and she and Willow had barely looked at each other. He’d managed to have a word with Willow in private earlier on, after he’d found out about the spell, asking her what on earth she’d been playing at. She’d been an odd mixture of defiant and shameful, saying that she’d just wanted to make Buffy happy again and had meant no harm.
He shook his head. He was a bit worried of course, but she seemed to have understood her failing - especially when he’d pointed out that Xander had aimed for almost the same thing when summoning their dancing dervish, and that one quite simply couldn’t force people to be happy. No, he wasn’t too worried about Willow - especially when she had Tara as a good, steadying influence. Willow just needed to take a little step back as he’d suggested.
And at Revello Drive, Tara silently carried her belongings out of the house - parcelling up her pain inside like so many storage boxes, ready to be dealt with later.
Now Buffy... however much Giles tried, his thoughts kept coming back to Buffy. And for the millionth time he wondered if he was doing the right thing. His thoughts strayed back over the years, and kept coming back to the same images - Buffy, battered or bruised, nearly vanquished, springing into action with defiance in her heart. Every time she had come out fighting, no matter the foe. He had been wondering, as he bought the tickets, if maybe this time was different, but after seeing her so joyfully embrace her power as Joan, he knew that she was still the same somewhere inside. And he was not the one who could show her the way - he had always just stood on the sidelines cheering her on. A Watcher had to push his Slayer, and this was the only way he could see. She had carried a lot of heavy burdens in her life, but he had seen her strength time and time again. He was sure this time would be no different.
And as the aeroplane disappeared into the night’s sky, Buffy was losing herself in a vampire’s kiss. The world of the living had let her down again, and she had nowhere else to go.
So she tried to wrap herself up in the beauty and devotion of her undead consort, hoping against hope that he could somehow make her forget the pain she carried within her - pain that threatened to burn away everything inside. All she knew was that he would not leave her, no matter what, and she needed him to be there - happiness and peace were as distant as the stars in the sky, but his kiss tasted of oblivion and his hands held her so tightly that maybe, maybe she wouldn’t fall.
Title: Goodbye to you, Sunnydale.
Summary: Giles' thoughts on the plane and a couple of snapshots of other characters - because there are always consequences.
Setting: Very end of 'Tabula Rasa'.
Rating: Suitable for all, but angsty.
Feedback: Pretty please?
Goodbye to you, Sunnydale
Giles disliked flying. Mostly because his ears always blocked up, and he on principle refused to put chewing gum in his mouth. But since swallowing was necessary, he asked the stewardess for a gin and tonic. It was a long flight and whiskey would get him drunk too quickly. Although that might not be a bad thing...
Tiredly he rubbed his eyes. Hopefully this would be his last flight in quite a while - he’d not made any promises of returning soon, even though he had seen the quiet pleading in Buffy’s eyes, somewhere behind the anger. And before he could change his mind she’d walked off, a ‘goodbye’ dying on his lips.
The subdued farewell scene played itself out again in his mind, as the cool drink spread out inside him, like magic creating warmth in its path. Anya had been too embarrassed still to say anything much, and Xander had merely shaken his hand. Tara... Tara had been very quiet. Unusually so, and she and Willow had barely looked at each other. He’d managed to have a word with Willow in private earlier on, after he’d found out about the spell, asking her what on earth she’d been playing at. She’d been an odd mixture of defiant and shameful, saying that she’d just wanted to make Buffy happy again and had meant no harm.
He shook his head. He was a bit worried of course, but she seemed to have understood her failing - especially when he’d pointed out that Xander had aimed for almost the same thing when summoning their dancing dervish, and that one quite simply couldn’t force people to be happy. No, he wasn’t too worried about Willow - especially when she had Tara as a good, steadying influence. Willow just needed to take a little step back as he’d suggested.
And at Revello Drive, Tara silently carried her belongings out of the house - parcelling up her pain inside like so many storage boxes, ready to be dealt with later.
Now Buffy... however much Giles tried, his thoughts kept coming back to Buffy. And for the millionth time he wondered if he was doing the right thing. His thoughts strayed back over the years, and kept coming back to the same images - Buffy, battered or bruised, nearly vanquished, springing into action with defiance in her heart. Every time she had come out fighting, no matter the foe. He had been wondering, as he bought the tickets, if maybe this time was different, but after seeing her so joyfully embrace her power as Joan, he knew that she was still the same somewhere inside. And he was not the one who could show her the way - he had always just stood on the sidelines cheering her on. A Watcher had to push his Slayer, and this was the only way he could see. She had carried a lot of heavy burdens in her life, but he had seen her strength time and time again. He was sure this time would be no different.
And as the aeroplane disappeared into the night’s sky, Buffy was losing herself in a vampire’s kiss. The world of the living had let her down again, and she had nowhere else to go.
So she tried to wrap herself up in the beauty and devotion of her undead consort, hoping against hope that he could somehow make her forget the pain she carried within her - pain that threatened to burn away everything inside. All she knew was that he would not leave her, no matter what, and she needed him to be there - happiness and peace were as distant as the stars in the sky, but his kiss tasted of oblivion and his hands held her so tightly that maybe, maybe she wouldn’t fall.