The Runaways
The first few weeks without Jenny in the house had been trying. The first week had been spent in a less-than-sober state of mind, quite often with the phone in hand, ready to dial her number in Boston; the friend that had e-mailed with the job opportunity subleased her apartment to Jenny for the time she'd be teaching while she vacationed in Europe.
According to Jenny, the place was in the ideal location, just a ten minute walk to the college. Every time they spoke, which was once every day or two, she always sounded so enthusiastic about anything. The apartment, the job, the curriculum, her students; Giles didn't have the heart to tell her that he was wasting away without her.
The second week was spent trying to shrug off Willow and Xander's concern, instead focusing on teaching both of them, along with Oz and Cordelia, how to defend themselves out on patrol. Since Buffy had taken off to God-knows-where, he needed temporary fill-ins.
He missed both of the most important women in his life terribly. With Buffy, he feared for her safety, an almost-overwhelming wave of paternal concern washing over him daily as he wondered just where she was, if she had enough money to feed and clothe herself, and if she had someplace to sleep at night. If she was sleeping at all. Somehow he knew she'd be back -- perhaps it was the connection binding together a Watcher and a Slayer, he wasn't certain -- but he knew that after she worked out whatever needed working out, she would return.
With Jenny, he wished he were that certain. He knew that she still loved him; she made sure to tell him at least twice every conversation, which he reciprocated to the fullest extent. But the mere fact that she was so enthusiastic about this new, temporary life she had out on the east coast quite frankly had him scared out of his wits that she would never return.
Buffy had a duty to fulfill, which Giles played a huge part in. Jenny, however, did not. Her only duty was that of a teacher, and that was something she could do anywhere. He'd always feared that his love for her far surpassed hers for him; he just hoped that by now, he would know for sure.
By the third week, Giles had fallen into despair. The calls from Jenny were becoming less and less frequent; when they did speak, she always chalked the infrequency up to an increased amount of grading she had to do at night -- less time for her to focus on phone calls -- and he always feigned understanding, though he was beginning to feel a bit of resentment weighing in his gut.
"Giles, you have to snap out of this!" Willow had told him one evening when she and Xander had dropped by to update him on their success patrolling, and had found he'd already gotten through half a bottle of scotch in just a few hours' time.
"Yeah man," Xander joined in, hands thrust in his pockets, "You're even starting to scare me a little bit. And nothing scares me." Off Willow's look, he tilted his head and shrugged, amending his statement. "Okay, except clowns." After another look from Willow, he sighed, voice getting even quieter as he added, "And pennies."
Giles frowned at him, but shrugged off their concern, insisting that he was fine.
"Giles, come on! You're clearly not fine." Planting her hands on her hips, Willow asked, "What would Buffy say to you if she were here right now?"
"Well that's obviously a moot point, Willow, because Buffy's not here, is she?!" he spat back, not even realizing he'd raised his voice until he saw the shocked look on her face. Immediately, he was remorseful, reaching out to pat her shoulder as he brushed past. "I apologize. Th-that was... unnecessary."
"Giles, you know that Miss Calendar loves you. She'll come back."
"She obviously loves him," Xander chuckled. "I mean if a woman like that chooses a guy like--"
Giles turned, meeting the boy's eyes, and Xander immediately recoiled. "Uh-uhmm... that's not really the point. The point is, G-Man, you guys have something and Miss Calendar doesn't seem like the type to just throw that out for some dumb teaching job in Boston."
"An eight-week teaching job," Willow added. "It's not like she's going to be gone for a year. She'll be back for a whole month before school starts up again."
Giles sat down heavily in his arm chair, sipping at a new glass of scotch until Willow took notice and snatched it away, dumping it down the sink. When she returned, she took a seat on the coffee table, facing him, and once again told him, "She'll come back."
But he still couldn't muster the strength to be that certain.
According to Jenny, the place was in the ideal location, just a ten minute walk to the college. Every time they spoke, which was once every day or two, she always sounded so enthusiastic about anything. The apartment, the job, the curriculum, her students; Giles didn't have the heart to tell her that he was wasting away without her.
The second week was spent trying to shrug off Willow and Xander's concern, instead focusing on teaching both of them, along with Oz and Cordelia, how to defend themselves out on patrol. Since Buffy had taken off to God-knows-where, he needed temporary fill-ins.
He missed both of the most important women in his life terribly. With Buffy, he feared for her safety, an almost-overwhelming wave of paternal concern washing over him daily as he wondered just where she was, if she had enough money to feed and clothe herself, and if she had someplace to sleep at night. If she was sleeping at all. Somehow he knew she'd be back -- perhaps it was the connection binding together a Watcher and a Slayer, he wasn't certain -- but he knew that after she worked out whatever needed working out, she would return.
With Jenny, he wished he were that certain. He knew that she still loved him; she made sure to tell him at least twice every conversation, which he reciprocated to the fullest extent. But the mere fact that she was so enthusiastic about this new, temporary life she had out on the east coast quite frankly had him scared out of his wits that she would never return.
Buffy had a duty to fulfill, which Giles played a huge part in. Jenny, however, did not. Her only duty was that of a teacher, and that was something she could do anywhere. He'd always feared that his love for her far surpassed hers for him; he just hoped that by now, he would know for sure.
By the third week, Giles had fallen into despair. The calls from Jenny were becoming less and less frequent; when they did speak, she always chalked the infrequency up to an increased amount of grading she had to do at night -- less time for her to focus on phone calls -- and he always feigned understanding, though he was beginning to feel a bit of resentment weighing in his gut.
"Giles, you have to snap out of this!" Willow had told him one evening when she and Xander had dropped by to update him on their success patrolling, and had found he'd already gotten through half a bottle of scotch in just a few hours' time.
"Yeah man," Xander joined in, hands thrust in his pockets, "You're even starting to scare me a little bit. And nothing scares me." Off Willow's look, he tilted his head and shrugged, amending his statement. "Okay, except clowns." After another look from Willow, he sighed, voice getting even quieter as he added, "And pennies."
Giles frowned at him, but shrugged off their concern, insisting that he was fine.
"Giles, come on! You're clearly not fine." Planting her hands on her hips, Willow asked, "What would Buffy say to you if she were here right now?"
"Well that's obviously a moot point, Willow, because Buffy's not here, is she?!" he spat back, not even realizing he'd raised his voice until he saw the shocked look on her face. Immediately, he was remorseful, reaching out to pat her shoulder as he brushed past. "I apologize. Th-that was... unnecessary."
"Giles, you know that Miss Calendar loves you. She'll come back."
"She obviously loves him," Xander chuckled. "I mean if a woman like that chooses a guy like--"
Giles turned, meeting the boy's eyes, and Xander immediately recoiled. "Uh-uhmm... that's not really the point. The point is, G-Man, you guys have something and Miss Calendar doesn't seem like the type to just throw that out for some dumb teaching job in Boston."
"An eight-week teaching job," Willow added. "It's not like she's going to be gone for a year. She'll be back for a whole month before school starts up again."
Giles sat down heavily in his arm chair, sipping at a new glass of scotch until Willow took notice and snatched it away, dumping it down the sink. When she returned, she took a seat on the coffee table, facing him, and once again told him, "She'll come back."
But he still couldn't muster the strength to be that certain.