FIC: Buffy the Vampire Slayer - "But It's My Destiny To Be The King of Pain" (Giles, Angel, 1/1)
Characters: Giles & Angel
Timeline: An epilogue to BtVS Season 4’s “The Yoko Factor”
Rating: FRT
Summary: After the events of “The Yoko Factor,” Giles goes out for a nightcap. He runs into the person he’d least like to see, and the one who just might understand him the most.
Word Count: 1500
Distribution: For the dreamwidth “Big Damn Love Fest 2013.” All other have permission to publish if credit given.
Disclaimer: Joss created. I make them happier, or use them to make me happier.
See the master list & to celebrate your favourite episodes!
~
When they’d all cleared from his flat, he gave up the charade of sleep and dressed himself in fresh clothes, not the baggy sweater but a black, button-down shirt that fit him like a glove, one reserved for evenings in dark places among adults. He didn’t have many of those, and the last in memory had resulted in him waking as a Feyaral demon.
He wore dark jeans and a leather coat. He left his glasses bedside. He walked. There was a stake in his jacket pocket and a cross at his neck, but he wasn’t afraid. The veteran vampires were preoccupied with the messes that the Initiative and Adam and sod-all Maggie Walsh had made. The new ones were never more than a blip on his radar. He could stake them in his peripheral vision.
The Slayer wasn’t the only one who could get things done.
He knew he was still teeming. However likely it was that Spike had played him like a fiddle, the neutered fool had spoken truth. Giles had no idea when Buffy had last come to him. All that “let’s plug in the new phone and promise to stay in touch” mealy-mouthing after Ethan’s most recent terrorism had lasted for a few days, he supposed through Faith’s own reign of terror, and then Buffy just… well, she’d disappeared.
Time was they’d never gone a day without keeping track, not just him of her, but also her of him. Especially after she’d returned from her summer in hiding, she’d been quietly, coolly, but emotionally attached to him. She used him like a touchstone. Meaningless questions about things she already knew. Late night check-ins when they weren’t really required. A silent quest for affirmation.
Truth was, however, even most of that had been utter bollocks, too. Half of that time she’d been hiding Angel from him. The other half, she’d been aiding and abetting him, asking Giles to help. Attached? Needed? Watcher to his Slayer? He was a sodding babysitter to the demon who’d made him die slowly, over and over again, and then not let him die. Buffy, brave, beautiful, his heart, really… she always ran to the ones who would hurt her, either by breaking her heart or simply, as was the case with Finn, he suspected, weren’t man enough to hold it together.
Giles reached his destination. He walked straight inside to a stool, looking at no one, sat, nodded at the bartender, and waited.
And then,
“Rupert.”
Well, and dammit. What was he doing here?
“What are you doing here, Angel?” He looked straight ahead.
“Just grabbing a drink before I head back to L.A.,” he said, as though the two of them lunched together twice a month.
“Have you seen Buffy then?”
“She’s the reason I’m here. It was short and sweet.”
Giles spat his Scotch. Perfect. “I saw her not an hour ago. She didn’t mention seeing you.”
“I guess…” Giles glanced over as Angel shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t find it worth mentioning.”
“Oh, sod the hell off, man. Please. Spare me the martyred Romeo routine. I beg of you.”
“We had unfinished business from her trip to L.A.”
Angel just assumed Giles knew all about it, since he was the one who clued Buffy in that Faith was there, and the assumption made it worse. Giles shook his head, tapped his glass against the counter, and finally, finally, let himself look the vampire in the eye, saying nothing.
“She didn’t tell you?” Angel murmured. The question mark was a courtesy, and Angel’s courtesy always stung.
“She said Faith was… was broken… that she turned herself in,” was all Giles could say. It didn’t even matter to him, not really, he told himself. He’d failed Faith long ago, so there was no redemption to be had there. And Buffy… she’d taken off for L.A. as soon as she knew what Faith was after.
“Buffy found us and… “ Angel let what he didn’t say hang in the air.
“You and Faith together.” Giles didn’t bother with the question marks. He knew Faith was just as entranced with Mr. Pillock With A Soul as Buffy was.
“We were together. I… I tried to help. Gave her sanctuary. Whether she wanted something else, that’s all I did.” Angel sipped from whatever was in his tumbler and looked at his hands. “She *is* broken. Finally, I guess. And we’re all lucky as hell it didn’t take longer. She almost killed Wesley, and Buffy showed up to put her own spin on it, and things got… pretty heated.”
As a Watcher, he was not used to saying it: “Spare me the details.”
“I mean I sent her away, Rupert.” He finished his drink and slammed it down.
“Angry?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really,” Giles responded. “I actually prefer your company when you’re not deadly calm, as that tends to bring about my own broken fingers and such. Though I don’t care that you are angry, I am curious as to why you’re expressing it to me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Angel said. “I’m mad that you assume I hurt Buffy. Or did something stupid with Buffy. That after all this time, you think it is my intent to do harm to her. And I’m also pissed because I’m not allowed to be mad at you, whether you’ve forgiven me or not.”
Giles scoffed. “You’re allowed to do… to be… whatever you want. I am nothing to you.”
Angel shook his head. “You helped save my life. How many times? Three? Or was that just this year, after everything…”
Now Giles stared at his hands. You couldn’t tell by looking that the fingers went numb after a night of journaling, or that the knuckles ached in dampness. He had Angel to thank for that, for a reign of loss and pain and fear that sometimes caught Giles from behind, squeezed his throat, and threatened to suffocate him, even now, two years later. And here Angel was thanking him, for preservation.
“I have duties,” Giles said simply. “I have a calling, too.”
“Yeah…” There was a heavy pause. “And how exactly do you categorize me under your calling, Rupert?”
“I am…” It was no use, really, keeping it from Angel. He wouldn’t repeat it. He wouldn’t betray it. All he could do is use it as a weapon if he ever found himself torturing Giles again, and that would be the least of it. “My calling is the Slayer. And she loves you. And I, her.”
Angel nodded, silently, just as Giles knew he would. “I know all about the new…about Finn…” he said.
“She loves you.”
“You seem pretty sure of that.”
“Did she do or say anything in L.A., or here, to the contrary?”
Angel shook his head. It didn’t matter that Buffy was *with* Riley or any other guy. It was only because she couldn’t be with him. Ergo the kicking and fighting and general life-sucking siege that their relationship had become.
“She doesn’t have a lot of… well, there’s no grace left for Faith. Not from Buffy.”
“No one gave Faith more mercy than Buffy. And Faith…”
“I know what she did,” Angel said. He couldn’t let Giles say the words, or anything close to them. Because whatever violation Faith had performed on Buffy, Angel had done to Giles, in a dozen different ways.
“Yes. Well.” Giles pursed his lips. And he sighed, because nothing was simple. “And I know what a self-righteous bitch Buffy can be.”
Now Angel nearly spit his drink. And he couldn’t help but laugh. “Strong words from her biggest fan.”
“She’s not a child anymore,” Giles said.
“No. She’s not. And after everything Faith did, she saved Faith’s life…”
Giles smiled into his glass and set it down, somehow satisfied.
Angel forced eye contact. “She gets that from you.”
There were more drinks then, a lot of silence, a few mostly-casual exchanges regarding Cordelia, Wesley, Willow, and Xander, a few remarks on potential strategy against Adam.
When the tabs were closed, Angel paid them both and stood up, stretching.
“I need to get back…” There was no need to tell a Watcher that a vampire couldn’t drive two hours if he left too close to sunrise. There was no need to tell Rupert Giles very much at all. He knew Angel, more than Angel wanted anyone to know.
They walked outside the door, more or less together.
“I can’t say what I want to,” Angel said, almost too softly to be heard.
“Nor can I say what should be said,” replied Giles, who’d been forgiven for most of his own atrocities.
“There’s always her, between us,” Angel said.
“Yes. And so…”
“And so.”
“Goodbye, Angel.”
The eyes that looked at Giles were full of emotion, of awareness, of regret, and of pain.
He nodded and walked away, coat billowing behind him.
Giles couldn’t help but watch him walk away. It was draining to be with someone who understood so well and carried so much. He shoved his now-aching hands into his pockets, against the chill of night, and supposed that, perhaps, amends had been made.
Timeline: An epilogue to BtVS Season 4’s “The Yoko Factor”
Rating: FRT
Summary: After the events of “The Yoko Factor,” Giles goes out for a nightcap. He runs into the person he’d least like to see, and the one who just might understand him the most.
Word Count: 1500
Distribution: For the dreamwidth “Big Damn Love Fest 2013.” All other have permission to publish if credit given.
Disclaimer: Joss created. I make them happier, or use them to make me happier.
See the master list & to celebrate your favourite episodes!
~
When they’d all cleared from his flat, he gave up the charade of sleep and dressed himself in fresh clothes, not the baggy sweater but a black, button-down shirt that fit him like a glove, one reserved for evenings in dark places among adults. He didn’t have many of those, and the last in memory had resulted in him waking as a Feyaral demon.
He wore dark jeans and a leather coat. He left his glasses bedside. He walked. There was a stake in his jacket pocket and a cross at his neck, but he wasn’t afraid. The veteran vampires were preoccupied with the messes that the Initiative and Adam and sod-all Maggie Walsh had made. The new ones were never more than a blip on his radar. He could stake them in his peripheral vision.
The Slayer wasn’t the only one who could get things done.
He knew he was still teeming. However likely it was that Spike had played him like a fiddle, the neutered fool had spoken truth. Giles had no idea when Buffy had last come to him. All that “let’s plug in the new phone and promise to stay in touch” mealy-mouthing after Ethan’s most recent terrorism had lasted for a few days, he supposed through Faith’s own reign of terror, and then Buffy just… well, she’d disappeared.
Time was they’d never gone a day without keeping track, not just him of her, but also her of him. Especially after she’d returned from her summer in hiding, she’d been quietly, coolly, but emotionally attached to him. She used him like a touchstone. Meaningless questions about things she already knew. Late night check-ins when they weren’t really required. A silent quest for affirmation.
Truth was, however, even most of that had been utter bollocks, too. Half of that time she’d been hiding Angel from him. The other half, she’d been aiding and abetting him, asking Giles to help. Attached? Needed? Watcher to his Slayer? He was a sodding babysitter to the demon who’d made him die slowly, over and over again, and then not let him die. Buffy, brave, beautiful, his heart, really… she always ran to the ones who would hurt her, either by breaking her heart or simply, as was the case with Finn, he suspected, weren’t man enough to hold it together.
Giles reached his destination. He walked straight inside to a stool, looking at no one, sat, nodded at the bartender, and waited.
And then,
“Rupert.”
Well, and dammit. What was he doing here?
“What are you doing here, Angel?” He looked straight ahead.
“Just grabbing a drink before I head back to L.A.,” he said, as though the two of them lunched together twice a month.
“Have you seen Buffy then?”
“She’s the reason I’m here. It was short and sweet.”
Giles spat his Scotch. Perfect. “I saw her not an hour ago. She didn’t mention seeing you.”
“I guess…” Giles glanced over as Angel shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t find it worth mentioning.”
“Oh, sod the hell off, man. Please. Spare me the martyred Romeo routine. I beg of you.”
“We had unfinished business from her trip to L.A.”
Angel just assumed Giles knew all about it, since he was the one who clued Buffy in that Faith was there, and the assumption made it worse. Giles shook his head, tapped his glass against the counter, and finally, finally, let himself look the vampire in the eye, saying nothing.
“She didn’t tell you?” Angel murmured. The question mark was a courtesy, and Angel’s courtesy always stung.
“She said Faith was… was broken… that she turned herself in,” was all Giles could say. It didn’t even matter to him, not really, he told himself. He’d failed Faith long ago, so there was no redemption to be had there. And Buffy… she’d taken off for L.A. as soon as she knew what Faith was after.
“Buffy found us and… “ Angel let what he didn’t say hang in the air.
“You and Faith together.” Giles didn’t bother with the question marks. He knew Faith was just as entranced with Mr. Pillock With A Soul as Buffy was.
“We were together. I… I tried to help. Gave her sanctuary. Whether she wanted something else, that’s all I did.” Angel sipped from whatever was in his tumbler and looked at his hands. “She *is* broken. Finally, I guess. And we’re all lucky as hell it didn’t take longer. She almost killed Wesley, and Buffy showed up to put her own spin on it, and things got… pretty heated.”
As a Watcher, he was not used to saying it: “Spare me the details.”
“I mean I sent her away, Rupert.” He finished his drink and slammed it down.
“Angry?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really,” Giles responded. “I actually prefer your company when you’re not deadly calm, as that tends to bring about my own broken fingers and such. Though I don’t care that you are angry, I am curious as to why you’re expressing it to me.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Angel said. “I’m mad that you assume I hurt Buffy. Or did something stupid with Buffy. That after all this time, you think it is my intent to do harm to her. And I’m also pissed because I’m not allowed to be mad at you, whether you’ve forgiven me or not.”
Giles scoffed. “You’re allowed to do… to be… whatever you want. I am nothing to you.”
Angel shook his head. “You helped save my life. How many times? Three? Or was that just this year, after everything…”
Now Giles stared at his hands. You couldn’t tell by looking that the fingers went numb after a night of journaling, or that the knuckles ached in dampness. He had Angel to thank for that, for a reign of loss and pain and fear that sometimes caught Giles from behind, squeezed his throat, and threatened to suffocate him, even now, two years later. And here Angel was thanking him, for preservation.
“I have duties,” Giles said simply. “I have a calling, too.”
“Yeah…” There was a heavy pause. “And how exactly do you categorize me under your calling, Rupert?”
“I am…” It was no use, really, keeping it from Angel. He wouldn’t repeat it. He wouldn’t betray it. All he could do is use it as a weapon if he ever found himself torturing Giles again, and that would be the least of it. “My calling is the Slayer. And she loves you. And I, her.”
Angel nodded, silently, just as Giles knew he would. “I know all about the new…about Finn…” he said.
“She loves you.”
“You seem pretty sure of that.”
“Did she do or say anything in L.A., or here, to the contrary?”
Angel shook his head. It didn’t matter that Buffy was *with* Riley or any other guy. It was only because she couldn’t be with him. Ergo the kicking and fighting and general life-sucking siege that their relationship had become.
“She doesn’t have a lot of… well, there’s no grace left for Faith. Not from Buffy.”
“No one gave Faith more mercy than Buffy. And Faith…”
“I know what she did,” Angel said. He couldn’t let Giles say the words, or anything close to them. Because whatever violation Faith had performed on Buffy, Angel had done to Giles, in a dozen different ways.
“Yes. Well.” Giles pursed his lips. And he sighed, because nothing was simple. “And I know what a self-righteous bitch Buffy can be.”
Now Angel nearly spit his drink. And he couldn’t help but laugh. “Strong words from her biggest fan.”
“She’s not a child anymore,” Giles said.
“No. She’s not. And after everything Faith did, she saved Faith’s life…”
Giles smiled into his glass and set it down, somehow satisfied.
Angel forced eye contact. “She gets that from you.”
There were more drinks then, a lot of silence, a few mostly-casual exchanges regarding Cordelia, Wesley, Willow, and Xander, a few remarks on potential strategy against Adam.
When the tabs were closed, Angel paid them both and stood up, stretching.
“I need to get back…” There was no need to tell a Watcher that a vampire couldn’t drive two hours if he left too close to sunrise. There was no need to tell Rupert Giles very much at all. He knew Angel, more than Angel wanted anyone to know.
They walked outside the door, more or less together.
“I can’t say what I want to,” Angel said, almost too softly to be heard.
“Nor can I say what should be said,” replied Giles, who’d been forgiven for most of his own atrocities.
“There’s always her, between us,” Angel said.
“Yes. And so…”
“And so.”
“Goodbye, Angel.”
The eyes that looked at Giles were full of emotion, of awareness, of regret, and of pain.
He nodded and walked away, coat billowing behind him.
Giles couldn’t help but watch him walk away. It was draining to be with someone who understood so well and carried so much. He shoved his now-aching hands into his pockets, against the chill of night, and supposed that, perhaps, amends had been made.