Castaways
by: Gileswench
Rated NC-17
Title: Castaways 1/16
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Date: 2/22/02
Spoilers: Through Older and Far Away
Summary: When Buffy and Giles are stranded on a tropical isle, old issues are settled and new bonds are forged.
Rating: NC17 for language, issues of abuse, references to kinky sex, naughty Watcher/Slayer bonding...sans bondage
Pairing: Buffy/Giles, W/T, X/Anya (references to B/S, B/R, B/A, G/E, G/Ol)
Category: Romance, smut, angst
Distribution: If you've had my permission in the past, you have it now. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.
Notes: This fic comes courtesy of Gail Christison's birthday challenge for a stranded B/G story. Special thanks to Viv Reber for the inspiration of her theories about B/S and G/E, and to Rari Coss who is always brutal with a beta.
Dedication: To Gail, who has waited patiently for her birthday pressie. Hope it was a good one, mate.
"Buffy!" Dawn yelled as she stepped away from the door, "It's for you!"
The girl wandered back into the living room and resumed watching TV. Buffy hurried down the stairs, still adjusting her work uniform. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who was at the door.
Great. He had to see her like this.
She squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips.
"What do you want, Travers?"
The elderly Englishman smirked slightly.
"It's very nice to see you, too, Miss Summers. May I come in?"
Buffy stood back from the door and opened it a fraction wider. Travers squeezed his way inside.
"Make it fast. I have to get to work," Buffy told him.
"Work?"
"Yes work. Y'know, that thing where you show up for eight hours a day somewhere and at the end of a week they give you a check that covers about a quarter of your expenses. You really ought to try it sometime."
"Very amusing," Travers returned with a sour expression. "What I meant was it's nearly sunset. You should be out hunting vampires, not...doing whatever it is one does in that costume."
"Just doing my bit to raise America's cholesterol count."
"You have a sacred duty, Buffy. You can't shirk it."
"Well, I also have a sacred duty to my sister, and Mastercard, and Visa, and the water company, and the phone company, and a whole bunch of other companies that require money on a regular basis. Now tell me why you're here and get out so I can pay at least some of my bills."
"Of course," Travers returned blandly. "Buffy, the Council has become aware of late that there is an unusual amount of demonic activity near Miami, Florida. We don't know what's causing it, but it must be brought under control."
Buffy folded her arms across her chest.
"And this has precisely what to do with me?"
Travers reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to Buffy.
"There's a private plane leaving from the Sunnydale airport for Miami tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. You will be on it, along with a representative of the Council. You will go to Miami, get to the bottom of the phenomenon, restore balance in the area, and then return by the same plane."
"Just like that? What about work? What about Dawn?"
"I'm sure a young woman of your resourcefulness can adequately solve those questions without help from me. I'll let myself out."
With a final smirk, Travers left. Buffy sighed. She opened the envelope. It contained a schedule and a set of instructions. Nothing else.
"Great. So I get to spend a no-expenses paid not-vacation in almost Miami with some stuffy creep in a tweed suit. My day is complete."
She pulled on the baseball cap with the cow face in the front and the rooster tail at the back.
"My life sucks."
*****
It was almost ten thirty the next morning when Buffy managed to reach the plane. She hefted her bags and climbed aboard the plane.
"Hello, Buffy."
Every fiber in Buffy's body stiffened at the sound of the mild voice. She spun around to face him.
"Giles...? You're who the Council sent?"
Giles shrugged.
"It seems both my research skill and my ability to deal with recalcitrant Slayers are without equal."
"Gee, could you sound a little less happy about that?"
"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm afraid I haven't gotten much sleep the past couple nights, and I'm no longer used to that."
Buffy chose a seat as far from Giles as she could manage and settled herself for the trip. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away.
"So take a nap. Don't mind me."
"I take it you're still angry with me?"
"Gee, why would I be mad at you?"
"Is it because I left?"
"Isn't that enough?"
Giles sighed and tried again.
"How is Dawn?"
"Fine. Xander and Anya are staying at the house while we're gone."
"What about Willow and Tara? Aren't they living with you anymore?"
Buffy shrugged.
"Tara moved out. Will's given up magic. Cold turkey. She's still a little shaky."
Giles stared at Buffy. When he regained his power of speech, his tone was sharper than he'd meant it to be.
"Why didn't anyone tell me? I might have been able to help Willow with this."
Buffy glared at him.
"So you can help Will out, but I have to just stand on my own two feet out of nowhere? I guess I know who you care more about now."
"Buffy..."
"No, Giles, it's okay. It's good to know where I stand. Now we don't have to pretend anymore."
"But I..."
"Save it, Giles. Look, I had to pull in more favors than I had to get the time off from work to do this. I'm tired, you're tired; let's just get some sleep and try to figure out how to get this over with as quickly as possible so we can go back to our lives and forget we had to see each other again."
Before the final words had even left her mouth, Buffy turned her head to face the window. She hunched her shoulders and lowered her face, giving Giles the clear signal that she was not to be approached.
As the plane began to move down the runway, Giles turned to look out his window. He idly wondered what his life would have been if he'd been allowed to pursue his childhood ambition of being a fighter pilot. Thinking of that lost dream was far less painful than looking at his lost Slayer across the aisle.
She might as well be halfway across the globe from him instead of mere feet away.
Half of him prayed that their trip would be short lived so as to minimize the sting of being with her when she was so angry and yet so needy. The other half of him hoped that he would have enough time to find a way to bring her out of her shell. Her misery was, if anything, even more palpable than when he left Sunnydale.
Not for the first time, he cursed Quentin Travers for handing him this assignment.
Across the aisle, Buffy cursed Travers just as bitterly and for the same reason.
*****
Giles started and woke from a fitful sleep. His hand touched his brow, then moved to his pocket to pull out his handkerchief so he could wipe the sweat away. Nightmares, he thought ruefully, were one of the hazards of the job that Watcher training couldn't prepare one for. There had been times during his sojourn in Sunnydale when he'd wondered if he would ever know a decent night's sleep again.
Across the aisle, Buffy breathed steadily. Giles was relieved to see that. When he'd returned to Sunnydale after her resurrection, nobody had warned him about her nightmares. He'd been peacefully ensconced on the sofa, nearly asleep over a book, when the screams began. Tara had hurried to Buffy's room to perform a soothing incantation and the house fell quiet again. Not that Giles got back to sleep.
In the morning nobody was able to tell him what Buffy had dreamt of and Buffy herself had evaded his every effort to ferret the information out of her.
Later in the day a chance comment by Dawn about the state of Buffy's hands when she returned had told Giles all he needed to know.
Giles shook himself. He couldn't afford to sit about woolgathering. There was no telling what he might need to prepare Buffy to face when they landed in Miami. The portents had been vague and the incidents seemingly unrelated. He took up a thick volume and pored over its pages, determined to keep his thoughts at bay. He had a job to do, and his and Buffy's current discomfort at working together had no bearing on that.
In her seat across the aisle, Buffy kept her breathing even. If Giles thought she was asleep, he wouldn't disturb her.
*****
After a while, Buffy found herself unable to keep up the pretense of sleep anymore. She mentally cursed her bladder and stirred.
"Did you have a nice nap?"
Buffy found herself resenting Giles' quiet tone. Maybe he'd figured her out and just wanted to trap her into giving herself away. Well, she wasn't going to fall for it.
"Sure," she yawned ostentatiously. "All rested now. When do we land?"
"Any time now, I should imagine."
"Well, I gotta make a pit stop first. Don't let them turn on the seatbelt sign without me."
She headed for the tiny restroom at the back of the cabin and Giles returned to his reading. He shook his head sadly. Did she really think she could fool him like this after all the years they'd spent together? She might have slept, but it certainly hadn't rested her. The circles under her eyes were heavy and dark. And nobody yawned like that. He began to suspect that she'd been awake the entire time. Well, fine. She'd shut him out for years, what difference did it make if she did it one more time?
He couldn't lie to himself. It mattered because he knew she wasn't being honest with anyone anymore. Buffy had always lied. Alright, give her her due, she more often avoided subjects or rattled away so she couldn't possibly hear any objections so she could say later with a clear conscience that nobody had told her no. Actual, specific lies had been much rarer with Buffy. And, while he was on the subject, Giles had to admit he'd been less than honest with Buffy on far too many occasions himself.
A tiny voice in his head reminded him he'd never told her about Ben.
He turned the page and searched for something new to think about.
A minute or two later, Buffy emerged from the bathroom. She returned to her seat without a word and stared out the window. Giles decided he'd had enough. He closed his book with a thump and turned to her.
"Are you going to speak to me at all on this trip?"
She shrugged her shoulders glumly.
"I already talked to you."
"I suppose so, if one takes the phrase quite literally," he allowed as he tugged his glasses off, "but if we're going to work together we have to do better than this. I know you're still angry with me, but we have to find a way to communicate."
Buffy finally looked him in the eye. Hers were carefully blank, her voice neutral.
"Or?"
"Or what? I don't understand?"
"Or...anything. What happens if we don't talk much?"
Giles replaced his glasses with a sigh.
"Of course, I forgot that you don't think I have anything important to say. But Buffy, there are times when talking over the facts and the theories in a situation helps us find the answer."
Buffy shrugged.
"You're answer guy. You'll get the job done, except for the killing part. That's my gig. Point me at what needs killing and I'll do it. Easy."
"You know perfectly well it's never worked like that with us."
"Well maybe I finally see what the Council wanted and I've decided to do it."
"That's not like you, Buffy."
She rolled her eyes.
"Great. So I'm not me. When do we get where we're going, already?"
Giles sighed in defeat and returned to his seat.
A few minutes later, Buffy looked up.
"Hey, Giles? When do we get there anyway?"
Giles looked at his watch, then out the window. He saw nothing but ocean.
"We should have been there by now, and I don't think Miami is quite that...aquatic. There's something seriously wrong, Buffy."
"I knew you were gonna say that. Does the pilot guy know he's gone out of bounds?"
Giles shot her an acerbic look. "Just a moment while I read his mind long distance."
"We can't just let him fly us to - to Europe or something. I don't have a passport. And I can't take that kind of time off work. Lorraine will decide I just disappeared and she'll take me off the clock."
"In a plane this size, we won't have enough fuel to make it to Europe. We'll end up in the Atlantic ocean. Where the hell does he think he's taking us?"
"Stop him, Giles!"
"I thought I found the answers and you provided the brute force."
"But I can't fly a plane!"
"And what the bloody hell makes you think I can?"
"Hello! Fighter pilot? Childhood ambition? Come on, Giles, work with me here."
"I never became a fighter pilot, Buffy. I was too busy becoming a Watcher."
"So this is all my fault?"
"Wha - Buffy, what are you driveling about?"
"You had to become a Watcher so you could watch me and that's why you never learned to fly a plane and that's why we're gonna crash in the middle of the ocean and die, is that it?"
Giles took a moment to stare, dumbfounded, at Buffy.
"I was ten sodding years old when I wanted to fly planes. There are a million reasons why I might never have done it anyway and not one of them has anything to do with you."
"So now I'm nothing to you at all?"
"That's not what I said!"
"Well it's sure what it sounded like!"
Giles shook his head to clear it from the mind boggling exercise of arguing with Buffy. He'd forgotten how confusing and tiring it could be.
"We don't have time for this nonsense, Buffy. Every second we stand here yelling at one another takes us further from where we want to be. We have to think, to - to - to figure some way to get this plane landed safely somewhere in the general vicinity of where we wanted to go."
"I never wanted to go to Miami."
"Nor did I, but that's beside the point. Look, I'm going up to the cockpit and see if I can have a word with the pilot."
Buffy blinked at him.
"You couldn't have thought of that before you gave birth to all those cows?"
Giles looked a bit sheepish.
"I...panicked. It's been a while since my life was in danger every waking moment. Not used to the adrenaline rush anymore, I suppose."
At Buffy's glare, Giles rolled his eyes and made his way up the aisle to the cockpit door. Once there, he knocked tentatively.
"I say, excuse me?"
He waited.
No answer.
He knocked again, harder.
"Is everything all right in there?"
He waited again.
"Did you know the plane is quite a way off course? Hello? Anybody in there?"
"Giles," came a voice at his shoulder, "I think you'd better open the door."
"A conclusion I certainly would never have reached by myself," he said in reply to Buffy's helpful suggestion.
He tried the handle. No luck. He stood back and gestured to the door. Buffy took a deep breath and kicked the door in.
The pair peeked in. Their eyes widened. They looked at each other.
"Okay," Buffy said. "We can now officially panic."
They looked at the empty cockpit again.
"So what do we do now?" Buffy asked.
Giles ran his hand back through his hair.
"I don't know. I swear there was a pilot when we left Sunnydale."
"Could he be in the bathroom?" One glare from Giles answered Buffy's question. "Okay, so no pilot. What do they do in the movies? Y'know, the ones where the pilot eats the chicken dinner with botulism or has a sudden attack of cholera or something?"
"Our pilot hasn't had a sudden attack of cholera; he's disappeared."
"I know, but it's like the same thing. No pilot either way. I know! There's a radio and you call the airport or something and some guy talks you down. Right?"
"Do you know how to work the radio?"
"No. You?"
"I suppose one of us has to learn."
"Not the time to be taking crash courses in this stuff."
Giles glared again.
"Buffy, would you please refrain from using the term 'crash' until we're safely on the ground again?"
"Sorry."
They entered the cockpit and looked at the controls of the plane. They tried to identify the radio. They looked about wildly for some indication of how to either handle the plane themselves or contact the outside world for help.
"Is there an off switch, at least?" Buffy asked.
"Wonderful idea," Giles grumbled, "we'll just switch the plane off while we're twenty thousand feet above the ocean. That should do the trick."
"At least I'm trying to find a way to get out of this."
Giles rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.
"I can't even identify anything up here."
"What about this?"
Buffy held up the book she'd found in the pilot's seat. Giles took it and skimmed through several pages.
"Magic. I should have known."
"Known what? Giles, share!"
Giles closed the book with a thump and tugged his glasses off.
"It's a spellbook I recognize from...well..."
"Your Ripper period, I'm guessing?"
"Yes."
"Ethan?"
"Most likely."
"So he's the one who's got his mojo working in Miami?"
"I shouldn't be the least surprised. He'd have known that once he got to a certain level the Council would involve you and that would mean they would involve me."
"So this is some sort of payback for shipping him off to the army? He's going to kill us?"
"No, I don't think that's his intent, but he'd like us to be as stranded as he was."
"So I'm guessing the plane won't actually crash into the ocean."
"I very much doubt it."
"So where's it headed?"
"I wish I knew."
The pair slumped against the walls of the cockpit and looked forlornly at one another. At last Buffy spoke.
"Giles? If someone was to accidentally turn Ethan into...oh, say, a hamster...would it really be murder if I let Miss Kitty eat him?"
*****
Buffy and Giles eventually returned to their seats to wait out the ride. Since neither had any ingredients for a counterspell there really wasn't much else they could do.
Now that the immediate panic was over, both relapsed into their earlier brooding.
At last the plane began to descend. Buffy and Giles looked out their respective windows, curious to see what their destination might be. Giles spotted the isle first. When he pointed it out to Buffy, she looked distinctly nervous.
"That's it? It looks kinda...tiny. Is there room for a whole plane on there?"
"You haven't flown much, have you?" Giles asked.
"Only a couple times."
"I can assure you that when we get a bit closer, it will be clear that the plane will fit. It may be a small island, but it's a relatively small plane as well."
"Do you think anyone will find us there?"
"I think we'd best work on the assumption that they won't find us for some time, at any rate."
"Great. That's just what I needed to hear."
The pair lapsed into silence as the plane made its final descent and landed with a heavy bump on the shore of the tiny isle.
"Trust Ethan to make sure I bruise my tailbone into the bargain," Giles muttered as he unbuckled his seatbelt. He looked up to see Buffy rubbing her elbow. "Are you alright, Buffy?"
"Yeah. Just...I should have known Ethan would make this hurt more than it has to."
Giles bit back a small smile at the coincidence and headed to the door of the plane. No stairs. No ladder. No way down there. He headed for the emergency exit and followed the instructions for opening it. Nothing happened. Damn Ethan. No doubt the sorcerer had sabotaged that as well. He returned to the door and looked out in frustration. He felt rather than heard Buffy's approach.
"So how do we got off of this ride?" Buffy asked.
"I suppose we could jump. You might even make it without injury, but I would most likely break my neck."
Buffy peered out the door to calculate her chances.
"I've jumped that far before. Heck, I've jumped further."
Giles flinched. When he saw her prepare to leap, he grabbed her arm.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.
"Getting off this damn plane, already."
She wrested her arm free. Giles stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked sullenly at the floor. Buffy folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
"What now?" she demanded. "What did I do wrong this time?"
"Nothing."
"So nothing is why you grabbed me?"
"I'm sorry, Buffy," he told her evenly, "but we need to find a safer way to get down."
"I'd be plenty safe, Giles. Heck, you could throw the luggage down after me and I could make a sort of soft place for you to land so you don't kill...oh."
She looked down, unable to even look at him. They studied the floor for some time. At last, Buffy spoke again.
"I promise this isn't about getting dead again. Twice is plenty for pretty much anybody, if you ask me. I'll be okay if I do this, and we have to get off the plane somehow. I just...I didn't think. I didn't know you saw...so would I have gotten a gold medal for that swan dive?"
"What you got was a wooden box. I really don't care to see the instant replay."
"Jumping was your idea this time, remember?"
"Well I've changed my mind."
Buffy snorted in frustration.
"So we're just going to sit here until we're rescued or we turn into mummies? Is that it? Great. I can't tell you how excited I'm not about this plan."
"There has to be another way."
"Well I don't see one."
"Of course not. You never see any way except your own, do you?"
"My way *was* the other way. Your way was to kill my sister."
"I didn't want Dawn to die any more than you did."
Buffy shook her head.
"That's not true. You were willing to sacrifice her. I wasn't."
"I hoped we wouldn't have to sacrifice anyone."
"Well, it's over now. And Dawn and I are both alive. Let's forget it and get off this damn plane."
With that, Buffy knelt in the doorway with her hands holding the edge and her feet facing out. She let herself drop over the side with her fingers still holding the doorway. She took a deep breath and let go. The drop was still several feet, but not dangerous anymore. She stood back and looked up at Giles.
"See? I'm still here. Get our bags and toss 'em down."
It took him several trips to the luggage area to comply with Buffy's orders, but at last he threw down the final bag and jumped the same way Buffy had. Not having Slayer abilities, he hit the ground at a bad angle and fell over. When he opened his eyes, Buffy stood over him.
"You okay?"
"I think my pride has taken a potentially fatal blow, but I'm otherwise unscathed."
Giles sat up and dusted himself off. Buffy extended a hand and helped him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, she let go and started picking up bags.
"Where do you think we're going, Buffy?"
She shrugged.
"Elsewhere, I guess. We can't just stay here."
"It might be a good idea to stay near the plane."
"Why?"
"Because," Giles patiently explained, "if we're to be rescued, it will probably be because somebody spots the plane from either a ship or another plane."
"How are they gonna spot it?"
"It's large, shiny, and not something that ought to be here...wherever here might be."
"Giles, look around you. Beach, white sand, silver plane, face it: we could be here a while. Now if there was some smoking wreckage, somebody might see that."
"Sorry I couldn't provide some for you. Next time I'll tell Ethan to have us crash land."
"Fine. Stay with the plane. I'm gonna look for someplace that seems a bit more homey."
Giles looked about himself. He had to admit there wasn't much to recommend the beach as a place to set up camp. There was no fresh water, no food supply unless there were crabs under all that sand, and no shelter other than the plane itself. He picked up some of his bags.
"Alright. Let's find someplace homey."
*****
Less than an hour later, they found the perfect place. It was a clearing among the palm trees and various bushes. There was a stream with a small waterfall nearby which would provide fresh water, and some of the bushes and vines appeared to have fruit on them. If they weren't stranded, Giles mused, the spot would be fairly romantic. The only thing lacking was actual shelter.
Buffy dropped her bags and looked around herself.
"I guess this is it until we get found. Home, sweet home."
"Yes, I rather think this will do," Giles agreed. "All we need now is some sort of place we can sleep and such. It's a pity the Council got us hotel rooms or I might have brought a tent with me."
"Hotel rooms? The tweed brigade was actually gonna pay for something on this trip?"
"Shocking, I know, but true."
"So if you're not all set to Robinson Crusoe, what did you bring?"
"What I expected I would need. Clothes, a few books, the usual."
"I don't think you took this much with you to that retreat in Breakers' Woods. Y'know, you still pack like me."
Giles scanned the area of their campsite with appraising eyes.
"Perhaps we can create some sort of shelter from palm fronds," he suggested.
"Smooth segue, Giles," Buffy grumbled. "Or we could just sleep under the stars. That might be okay."
"What if it rains?"
"Giles, check out this sky! Do you see a single cloud? I don't. It's not gonna rain."
"You seem awfully determined in this."
"It's getting late. And it's been a long day. I just want to get some rest."
"Well I don't know about you, but I like a roof of some sort over my head. I'd also like something to eat. As you said, it's been a long day."
"Sadly, though, there is a distinct lack of restaurants in the area."
Giles smiled wryly.
"Ah, but the Cafe Rupert is always open."
He opened a bag and rummaged around. When his hand returned to view, he held a bag of potato chips and some beef jerky.
"It's a bit dodgy nutritionally, but it'll keep us going until we can find something better among the local flora."
He opened the chips and offered the bag to Buffy. She shook her head.
"I'm not hungry."
"Are you sure? You haven't eaten in quite a while."
Buffy shrugged and sat down among the luggage.
"Still not hungry."
Giles looked her over with a critical eye.
"Well you still need to eat something. You've lost too much weight. You're beginning to look like the girl in that dreadful show about the lawyers. Ally McBall or something, is it?"
"Ally McBeal," she corrected. "I guess I should be impressed. That was an actual American pop culture reference."
"This isn't a joke, Buffy. You're too thin by half. I'm concerned for your health."
"So you're going to feed me potato chips?"
"I might have an apple left if you prefer that."
"What is it with you and the nibbling, anyway?" Buffy asked. "Ever since I met you, you're always munching on something, but you never seem to get fat. Why is that?"
"The munching or my svelte figure?" he grinned. When she merely glared in his direction, he sobered and answered. "I never knew when I might have the opportunity to eat back then. Or sleep. I took quite a few catnaps in my office after a night of research. And I missed so many meals that snacking was the only way to keep myself fed. I simply got in the habit of having a piece or two of fruit or a bag of crisps on hand. It was that or starvation sometimes."
"I even caught you with lollipops once in a while."
"Generally courtesy of Willow, as I recall. She'd a tendency to drop them out of her backpack, so I would commandeer them. It was a convenient way to solve the problem of occasional low blood sugar."
"She usually brought them for Xander."
"I suspected as much. She was rather taken with him then, as I recall."
"Yeah, pretty much the only person who didn't know was Xander. That's gotta suck. Being in love with someone who won't notice you're there."
Giles rooted around in his bag until he found the last apple he'd spoken of. He handed it to Buffy.
"Here. Eat. No arguments."
Buffy rolled her eyes, but one look at the expression on Giles' face told her not to protest. She took a half hearted bite. She was surprised when the fruit actually tasted good to her. By the time she'd swallowed a couple bites, her stomach began to feel oddly hollow and she realized how long it had been since she'd eaten a quick bowl of cereal for breakfast. She began to wolf down the apple until a gentle hand stayed her.
"Slowly, Buffy. You'll make yourself sick."
She swallowed and looked at him curiously.
"How did you know?"
"That you've been on a near starvation diet? The fact that you look half starved was something of a clue."
"Kinda hard to work up much enthusiasm for another Doublemeat Medley after a while."
"Doublemeat...? What are you doing eating in a greasy fast food place so often you're sick of it?"
"Working. Being independent like you told me."
Giles was shocked at the sullen resentment in her tone.
"Well, it's a start, I suppose, until you can find something better."
"Actually, it's a career. They don't want short timers. If no vamps kill me for a while, I might get my five year badge. Maybe even my ten year."
"They must be paying you well."
Buffy shrugged.
"Minimum wage. If I'm really good and don't make any more scenes, I might get a nickel raise in six months. That is, if I get back to civilization in time to keep my job."
"Scenes? What sort of mischief have you been up to?" he cajoled her. At least throwing a scene sounded like the Buffy he knew.
"I went a little nuts when I thought the secret ingredient was people. It wasn't. People, I mean. Turns out the secret ingredient in Doublemeat burgers is beef fat to flavor the veggie burgers. Oh, and you didn't hear that from me, by the way."
"So you know their dark secret and you're working for them for minimum wage?"
"Well, it pays some of the bills, anyway."
"I can't imagine it pays them all."
"There's still a little bit left from that check you gave me. That goes to pay the mortgage next month. And Dad sent a little money at Christmas. That paid off one of the credit cards. Until I had to use it again. We're making it."
"Not very well, by the sound of it."
Buffy stood and tossed the apple core into the foliage.
"I'm doing the best I can."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Well, you said it like that. Look, I don't want to argue. I just want to get some sleep."
Giles wiped the potato chip crumbs from his hands and stood. He moved to Buffy's side, looking straight ahead, hands in his pockets in a typical Giles stance.
"I'm sorry, Buffy. I really didn't mean to belittle your efforts. What I was trying to say is that the Buffy I know is capable of so much more."
"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."
"I can't believe that. You've faced so much adversity in your life, Buffy, and you've always come back fighting. What changed?"
Buffy pulled off her jacket and wadded it into a makeshift pillow. She lay down and closed her eyes before she answered.
"Look, I'm tired. Good night, Giles."
Giles sighed and rubbed his neck in frustration. Unfortunately, when Buffy closed a conversation that firmly, he knew from experience there was nothing to be done. He rummaged through another bag, found a jacket, and draped it over Buffy so she would have some covering from the elements. Then he lay down beside her and tried to sleep.
*****
As was so often the case since he met Buffy, tried turned out to be the operative word. Giles had barely dozed off when he was startled awake by Buffy rolling over and burrowing into his chest. She seemed to be trying to crawl inside him.
"Buffy," he whispered, "are you awake?"
The girl made a sleepy, slightly irritated noise and wrapped an unconscious arm around his waist to pull him closer. Giles decided it was wisest not to struggle. He did his best to find a comfortable position that Buffy would accept and tried to doze off again.
Unfortunately, the close proximity of a warm, attractive female body was having its standard effect on his warm, male body. Giles wondered how he could possibly have enough blood in his cheeks to make them so warm when the rest of his body's supply had drained elsewhere at a quite astonishing rate.
Still, there was nothing for it. If he tried to move away, Buffy might accidentally crush his ribs. Besides, despite his embarrassment at the situation, it was a comfort to know that in sleep, at any rate, Buffy might still want him around. He set his mind to the most boring Latin verb conjugations he could recall and did his best to will his now rampant erection away.
Giles was not a religious man in the strictest sense, but he soon found himself praying that Buffy would roll away again in her sleep.
And yet, another, traitorous part of his brain protested the thought adamantly.
At last he gave in to the situation and wrapped an arm around Buffy, hoping she would feel safe with him. She made a contented little grunt in her sleep and wriggled yet closer. Giles smiled as he drifted off into his first nightmare free sleep since Buffy's death.
*****
Giles woke first the next morning only to find that he and Buffy were lying spooned together with his legs tucked up behind hers and his arms snuggled around her waist. He allowed himself a moment to enjoy holding Buffy. Then he began to look for a way to extricate himself without waking her. He knew she would be upset if she felt him pressed against her backside.
With some amusement, Giles wondered if he'd softened at all in his sleep. At least Buffy hadn't noticed. He wondered whether he felt more relieved or disappointed in that knowledge. He didn't want to upset her further or make her think she couldn't trust him to be a gentleman, but he also felt a perverse desire to prove to her that he was a man; that he was more than an extension of her.
He decided it might be a good idea to take a quick dip in the stream before Buffy woke up. It would cool him off in more than one sense.
*****
When Buffy woke, she found herself alone. She sat up and rubbed her face with her hands. Sleeping on the ground was certainly not the recommended way to wake up fresh as a daisy. She almost smiled when she saw Giles' jacket carefully spread on top of her. That was the Giles she remembered; the one who took care of her no matter what.
Now if she could just figure out where he was.
Just then, a sound came floating by. A happy sound. Someone singing. Someone with a good voice, it sounded like. But the only person there other than herself was...
Buffy got to her feet, dusted herself off, and marched off in the direction of the singer.
When she got to the stream, she saw Giles immediately, but this was a Giles she didn't think she'd ever really seen before. He was splashing happily in the water and singing.
And naked.
Not that she could see that much, actually. He had his back turned to her and the water came up a little past his waist.
Still, that was a lot more Giles than Buffy had seen aside from the brief, awkward moment when she'd seen Giles turn back from a fyarl demon to himself. She'd turned away too quickly to really see anything that time.
Didn't want to embarrass him, she'd told herself.
Now she couldn't help staring at his back and shoulders. They looked broader and stronger than she'd expected.
Expected when, she wondered.
And the song he sang...maybe he chose it just because it was something from his youth and he liked it. Somehow, though, Buffy couldn't shake the feeling that it meant something - or someone - specific.
You - got me running
And - there's no fun in it
Why should it be so much to ask or you
What you're doing to me
I been waiting here for you
Wondring what you're gonna do
And should you need a love that's true
It's -
"Dear lord!" Giles exclaimed as he turned and saw Buffy. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Not long," Buffy said dropping here eyes. "I just woke up and followed the sound of music. I didn't know you could sing."
"Well now you know. Are your ears scarred for life?"
She wasn't entirely sure whether his words were meant as a joke or not. She decided to assume they were.
"I think I'll live. Good thing you didn't walk in on me singing. There isn't an ER around here."
"Stop that," Giles said mildly.
"Stop what?"
"Putting yourself down like that."
Buffy shrugged.
"Just accepting my limitations."
"I've heard you sing, remember? You've quite a pretty voice, actually. And you've heard me sing before, in case you've forgotten."
"Not really something I wanted to remember."
Giles looked sullenly down at the water for a moment. He began to walk toward land.
"Giles! What are you doing?"
Giles stopped in his tracks and glared at the girl.
"Getting out of this water before I freeze to death."
"But you're...you're...not wearing anything, are you?"
"And I suppose you bathe fully dressed on a regular basis?"
"But you've never...in front of me..."
"Nor do I particularly wish to reveal all to you now, but it's that or hypothermia at this point. Unless, of course, you leave me alone for a few minutes while I get dressed. Then I shall retire and allow you some privacy if you want to wash up."
"Oh," Buffy mouthed. "Um...okay. I'll just...I'll be back...with the stuff."
She turned and fled back to their campsite. Giles shook his head. What had gotten into him this morning? What on earth was he thinking, threatening to expose himself to Buffy? He knew he had to stop giving in to his frustration with her.
Frustration.
He couldn't lie to himself anymore. That was why he'd left Sunnydale in the first place. Frustration with Buffy, frustration with himself, frustration with Willow and Xander and Anya and all of them.
But mainly with Buffy.
He'd found himself getting angrier and angrier with Buffy during his stay in Sunnydale. The first moment she'd seen him, she'd clutched at him as if he was her one lifeline. She'd seemed so desperate to have him there.
And then he'd disappeared into the background of her life.
Again.
She threw her problems into his lap to deal with. Deal with Dawn. Deal with the bills. Deal with everything but Buffy. Look but don't touch.
But please cure the hangover she got hanging out with Spike.
The frustration had grown and grown until the day he found himself daydreaming about throttling her.
He knew then it was time to be on his way, before he grew to hate the girl he loved.
He sighed deeply and left the water. Now he was well and truly stuck. No matter how much he wanted to, there was nowhere left to run.
He prayed he could find a way to get through to the real Buffy - if she was still anywhere in that shell of resentment and despair.
*****
Buffy's head swam. She sat down on one of her suitcases with a thump. Who was this stranger in Giles' body? And speaking of bodies...when had his gotten to be so nice?
She'd always known he was solid. They hadn't hugged many times, but when they had, she'd always enjoyed the feeling. He felt so safe. Warm. Dependable.
All that had certainly changed.
When he'd come back, she felt sure this was the thing that would make everything right; the way it had been before. Maybe not quite exactly, since she knew she couldn't get her mother back or return to the simplicity of the library, but nearly that.
But the Giles who came back refused to play by the old rules.
He scared her. He wanted too much from her. Kept reaching for her in ways that no longer felt safe.
This new, disturbing Giles wasn't the one she wanted.
She didn't.
Though she found herself idly wondering how it would feel to run her fingers through the hair on his chest.
Just curiosity. She'd never been with a man with hair on his chest.
Buffy firmly removed the thought from her mind. Sex had never done anything but make her life miserable. This thing with Spike was certainly proof of that.
She pondered for a moment on the question Tara had asked. Did she love Spike? How can you love someone you despise? But how can you be so compelled to have sex with someone you don't love?
But if she loved him, why did she feel so dirty every time it happened?
And if it was so horrible, why did she keep going back?
Was feeling dirty and degraded really better than feeling nothing?
She wanted things to go back to the way they were before, when she knew she would win. When she knew that Giles would be there for her when she needed him. When the things she didn't want to deal with were dealt with by someone else.
"Great, Buffy," she grumbled at herself, "mature much?"
Her brooding was interrupted by soft footsteps approaching. She turned to see Giles, still damp from his swim. He was being the unpredictable, dangerous Giles she didn't want to see. He wore a casual button-down shirt over his jeans now, but he'd left the front open and his feet were bare. When he got closer, she could see he hadn't shaved yet. He was, however, wearing an earring.
This was not the Giles Buffy wanted at all.
"I thought we'd take a walk to the plane after breakfast," he announced as he dug through his bag for more snack foods.
"What for?" Buffy asked sullenly. "It's still just sitting there with no way for us to get it going."
"I thought we could look for some clue as to how and why Ethan stranded us here. That and peanuts."
"Peanuts?"
Giles tossed Buffy a stick of jerky and a banana.
"I don't have much in here that will supply enough protein for us to get by on for long. We need all the food we can get in case we aren't rescued for a while."
Buffy peeled the banana to keep Giles from scolding her more than because she wanted to eat. She took a bite and was surprised at how good it tasted. Maybe she had been hungry more often than she realized of late. Still, the need to protest was strong within her.
"I don't eat much these days."
"So I noticed," Giles replied, "but that's going to change. If we're to be alone out here for any length of time, you need to keep your strength up. I can't manage for both of us if you start passing out from malnutrition."
"I don't pass out."
"Perhaps not yet, but even Slayers need to eat."
Buffy took another angry bite of banana.
"I'm eating, I'm eating."
"Well eat all of it, and the jerky."
"I don't like jerky."
"Sorry. I didn't choose the menu with you in mind. I wasn't planning to be stranded in the middle of nowhere with you."
"Not loving the customer service at the Cafe Rupert."
Still, Buffy ate both the banana and the jerky.
*****
After breakfast and a hike across the island, they reached the plane again. Buffy stopped yet again to pour sand out of her shoes.
"I don't like this place," she grumbled.
"I don't know," Giles returned. "Sun, sand, palm trees. Isn't this what you Americans consider paradise?"
"Sure. And it's what you Brits consider ripe for the colonizing, but I don't see you planting a Union Jack around here."
"I don't have a Union Jack with me. Perhaps I could tie a handkerchief to a quarterstaff and claim this island in the name of Empress Buffy the Perpetually Grumpy."
"Do you think someone would see it and rescue us?"
"I rather doubt it."
"Great. I'm gonna spend the rest of my life on this crappy little island with you making fun of me all day."
"Not necessarily. A few more days of this ceaseless grumbling and I may well slit my throat whilst shaving."
Buffy stared at Giles. Her face had gone white.
"Don't even joke about that."
"Then quit complaining for five minutes," Giles snapped.
He regretted his tone when he saw her chin begin to wobble. He moved to her side and offered her his handkerchief.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said, "but I don't know what to do anymore. You won't even try."
Buffy just shook her head. She was crying too hard to answer the question. Giles felt his heart crumble. He wrapped a comradely arm around her shoulders.
"Please don't cry," he said, "I never know what to do when a woman cries."
"Well...," Buffy hiccoughed between sobs, "you could offer me some ice cream if there was any in this place."
Giles looked down as Buffy looked up. Her eyes still brimmed over with tears, but Giles could see the effort she was making to calm herself. He surrendered and pulled her into his arms.
"Oh, Buffy, I would if I had any." He gently stroked her hair. "Go on and cry if you need to. Lord knows you've earned that much. Just do me one favor, will you?"
"W - what's that?" she choked out.
"Don't tell Xander about this. He'd never let me live it down."
Buffy gave a soggy chuckle and pulled back to wipe her eyes.
"No way I'm telling him. I'd lose all my superhero cool in his eyes."
They shared a wry smile.
"Feeling better?"
"A little. And a little not. Sorta embarrassed. I don't usually lose it like that."
"I know," Giles told her as he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But there's nobody here to see it, and I promise not to tell."
Buffy shrugged.
"Who would you tell, anyway? Even if we get off this island, you'll just go back to England where nobody would know who you're talking about anyway."
"Buffy, you know why I had to leave," he said. "Perhaps I can come back sometime, for a visit."
"Perhaps? Sometime? Don't I even rate a definitely or a soon?"
"Of course I'd like it to be soon, but I need to make sure you're standing on your own; taking responsibility. If I came back now, even for a time, I fear I'll seriously jeopardize your progress."
"Don't give me that crap, Giles," Buffy said, her eyes blazing. "You're my Watcher. You belong with me."
"But I don't belong *to* you."
Giles turned on his heel and stalked off toward the plane as Buffy stared after him. After a moment of stunned inactivity, she followed.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
"I don't want to talk about it."
Buffy grabbed his arm.
"Oh no you don't, Giles. You can't just throw something like that in my face and walk away. Tell me what you mean."
"Buffy, please," Giles gritted out, "don't do this."
"Do what? Giles, you're mad at me and I don't even know why. And it's not like I can go ask Willow or Xander what I've done wrong now 'cause it's just you and me here. If I've screwed up, you have to tell me what I've done wrong."
"That's just it. I shouldn't have to tell you."
"Then how am I supposed to make it right?"
Giles stuffed his hands in his pockets and glared stubbornly at his toes. Buffy sighed in defeat and sat in the sand, looking out to sea.
"I can't do this by myself, y'know."
She looked small and vulnerable. Both stayed silent for a moment. At last Giles sat next to Buffy. He ran his hand through his hair, then spoke, his eyes also focused on the ocean.
"You'd be amazed at what you can do alone if you try, Buffy."
"I'm already alone. I'm just tired of being lonely. Can't you just come home?"
"Sunnydale isn't my home. It never was."
"Couldn't you pretend?"
Giles was silent for a long time. When he spoke, Buffy was astonished at the raw emotion she heard. Her Giles never talked this way.
"Twenty six years is a long time to pretend something. I've been pretending ever since I went crawling back to the Council with my tail between my legs that I'm something I'm not. Ethan was right. I'm not who you think I am."
"Yes you are. You're Giles."
"What? The stuttering librarian who gets knocked on the head every Tuesday night? The old codger who's so far past it you and your friends seem quite convinced he isn't really a man anymore? Your substitute mother?"
"I really wasn't completely myself when I said that. Anyway, you're too hairy to wear a halter top."
"Wardrobe aside, you seemed determined to cast me in the role whether I would or no."
"I knew you'd take care of stuff. And I thought you'd never let me down."
"Ah yes, I was to take care of everything you didn't feel like doing and then conveniently melt into the background when you didn't want to be bothered with me."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it? I came back from England because you were back and what did you do as soon as I bloody got in the door? Ran off to see Angel, dumping the unpaid bills in my lap. You go drinking with Spike, of all people, and then expect me to hold your hand when you get sick."
"And you did. And I really, really appreciated it."
"No you didn't. You used my willingness to help you as an excuse. You stopped trying to do anything for yourself or Dawn."
"I was trying to deal with being alive again and keeping Will from finding out where she'd 'saved' me from and doing my daily Slaying. I couldn't do any more. I didn't have it in me."
"I flew halfway around the world to see you again, Buffy. I thought...maybe I had another chance."
He shook his head and pulled his lips into a tight, narrow line. Buffy looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion.
"I don't get it. Another chance at what?"
Giles stared stubbornly at the shore.
"I was wrong."
"Don't go cryptic on me, Giles. Share."
He got to his feet suddenly.
"We really ought to see what we can salvage from the plane soon. I'd like to at least try to create some shelter for tonight."
Buffy stood and kicked a plume of sand into the air in frustration. Still, it was clear that Giles had nothing more to say for the moment. Buffy briefly considered heading back to camp to sulk, but she knew that would only make Giles angrier than he already was. Besides, there was no way he was getting on that plane by himself. The question of how he would manage to do it aside, that plane had been sabotaged by Ethan Rayne and there was no telling what other surprises the sorcerer had waiting for them. There really was no choice.
Buffy followed her Watcher to the plane.
*****