Paint Me
by: Ness
Rated PG
email:Ness
Warning: Really not much of one. It starts out a bit angsty, but gets happy by the end.
Summary: Giles gets a second chance thanks to a gifted artist.
Spoiler: Season 7 BtVS
Feedback: Um, if I asked please, would that help?
Distribution: Anyone that already has permission. Anyone else, please ask first.
Disclaimer: We all know who owns 'em and it ain't me. Joss and Co. are gods in their universe; I'm just a peon in mine
A/N #1: Thanks for Gileswench for the Beta. It's much appreciated. I did a bit of changing on this one, so any and all mistakes are mine, as usual.
A/N #2: This little fic was brought to you courtesy of the Tracy Lawrence song "Paint Me A Birmingham"
December 16, 2003
Giles walked along the quiet beach, lost in his thoughts. He and the others had buried Buffy for the last time a few days before and he was still having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact he would never see her again. They'd defeated the First Evil and gone on to train the new Slayers and be where the need was the greatest.
It had taken a very long time, almost five years, before they had returned to any semblance of their old relationship. Giles had lost his ability to dismiss everything Buffy had done in the name of friendship and partnership. It had taken Buffy quite a long time to realize that this was predominantly her fault. At first, she'd fallen back on the 'I'm the Slayer and I have to fight evil, therefore you should understand'. The moment she'd begun to understand the difference between leading and dictating was when another Slayer had tried the same thing on her, not knowing who she was.
She'd stepped back, looked at Giles and, pointing to herself, said 'Me?' He nodded ruefully. She'd then told him that he should have smacked her when she'd done it. He had simply smiled and told her that he had had faith that she would figure it out eventually.
That was the beginning of the change in their relationship. She no longer believed that he should accept everything she said as the final say, and he in turn, had begun to see her as the maturing adult that she was becoming.
They had developed a lasting friendship, and something more. For several more years, they had danced around each other, he believing that he was too old for her; she believing that he couldn't, or wouldn't, want her because of her past mistakes.
The kissed for the first - and last - time the night she died.
It had broken his heart.
The feel of a wave washing over his bare feet brought him back to his surroundings. He'd taken to walking on this beach in the early morning every day since Buffy's funeral. It seemed to bring him some small measure of peace; something to hold onto when the pain became more than he could bear.
He felt the grit of the sand beneath his feet as he stopped and studied the calm serenity of the sea. He knew that just a little distance up the beach; he would find a cove that allowed the sea to vent some of its power, making a mockery of this seeming calm. He felt the need to see a bit of unrest, so he headed there.
***
Giles dropped to the sand from a boulder that blocked the entrance of the cove from anyone but those who knew this particular stretch of beach. He was so engrossed in watching the waves lash the shore that he failed to notice the man sitting in the shadows of the rocks until he was almost upon him.
He jerked back, startled. "I'm sorry; I didn't know you were there."
"No problem," the man said, concentrating on the painting taking shape on the canvas before him.
Giles leaned closer, drawn in spite of himself, to the majestic picture emerging from the man's brush. "You have exceptional talent."
"Thank you." The stranger put the finishing stroke on the picture of a raging sea that seemed to almost come off the canvas.
"It's a bloody shame--" Giles broke off.
"What?"
"That you can't paint something besides ocean scenes," Giles said, half to himself.
"Hey, for twenty bucks, I can paint anything you want," the man grinned.
"I highly doubt you could paint what I would wish for," Giles replied solemnly.
"What do you want to see?"
"You can't do it." Giles turned abruptly away and gazed at the turbulent sea. "I want to see--" He took a deep breath and continued softly, forgetting that he had a rapt audience. "I want to see her again. I want to tell her all she means to me. And above all," he took a deep, shaky breath, "I don't want to waste the precious time that we had together." He shook his head in sad consternation. "I wouldn't have taken so bloody long to tell her how I felt about her. I wouldn't have hesitated, wouldn't have worried about my own insecurities at the expense of what we could have had together." A sigh was torn from deep inside him. "It's too late now, anyway. She's gone."
Giles, oblivious to the man watching him intently, walked to the edge of the damp sand and sank down, lost in his own memories and regrets.
The painter studied the desolate man sitting on the sand and contemplated the problem. "Too late, is it?" he murmured. "I don't know about that." He suddenly grinned to himself and, putting brush and paint to canvas began to craft a masterpiece. One that would make dreams come true.
***
Giles was aware of feeling a crick in his neck. Had he fallen asleep on the beach?
"Giles, wake up, we're here."
He squeezed his eyes closed tightly as pain washed over him. God, was he to be haunted by her memory even in his dreams?
"Giles, wake up." The voice, Buffy's voice, sounded slightly exasperated.
He stiffened his resolve and slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a dashboard. The second was when he turned his head and saw his Slayer' s face looking at him with a mixture of irritation and amusement. She was leaning in the open door of the passenger side of the rental car.
"Geez, when you said you were taking a nap while I drove, you weren't kidding, were you?"
Giles stopped himself, barely, from reaching put and touching her face. Was she really here? Was he dreaming? God, if he was, he never wanted to awaken. "Buffy?" he asked hoarsely.
"Who else would it be?" she asked with a grin. "I'm the one that lost the coin toss and had to drive to Cleveland, remember?"
Cleveland? Giles mind worked furiously, trying to decipher this bizarre dream. The last time he'd been in Cleveland was when--. Suddenly, he remembered the mutterings of the painter on the beach. No, it couldn't be. His mind made the intuitional leap that he'd come to depend on and came up with the only logical, yet illogical, answer that fit. Somehow, the man had taken Giles at his word and painted him his fondest wish.
A second chance with Buffy.
The Watcher squeezed his eyes shut as emotion threatened to choke him.
"Giles?" Buffy was suddenly concerned. Something was going on, and she hated being out of the informational loop. They'd headed out to Cleveland this morning because they'd gotten reports that the Slayer in charge of the Hellmouth there was taking unnecessary chances with both herself and those chosen to help her. Buffy and Giles - well, more Giles than Buffy - were going to see if they could help her.
Giles opened his eyes and gazed once more on the lovely face he'd thought never to see again. He saw the anxiety in her eyes and tried to pull himself together. He searched his mind for the events that had surrounded this particular trip. He remembered the Slayer, Lisa, who had taken to power in the extreme.
"Are you okay?" Buffy asked as he climbed out of the car.
"I'm fine," he assured her as he fought to control the surge of excitement that suddenly flowed through him. His chance - he had his bloody second chance! He vowed not to squander it this time.
"Well," Buffy said as she watched him closely. "Let's go talk to this Slaygal and see what's what."
He nodded and followed her to the house she'd indicated.
***
"You don't understand," the girl sneered disdainfully.
"What exactly is it that I don't understand?" Buffy asked with dwindling patience.
"You don't understand what it's like to be a Slayer," the young woman sniffed haughtily.
Buffy gaped. She and Giles had decided that it would be best to not tell the girl who they were until they'd found out exactly what was going on. So they'd just said they were from the Council. This girl was as self-centered as they came. She'd decided that everybody that worked with her should do what she wanted, no matter what. She'd come dangerously close to getting several of them killed recently and there was quiet dissention in the ranks that was threatening to become very vocal if something wasn't done.
Buffy had squirmed uncomfortably as she'd listen to the girl talk because the younger woman had sounded quite a bit like Buffy had when they'd been fighting the First. Buffy had known for quite some time that she'd been wrong in a lot of ways about how she'd handled that situation - especially where Giles was concerned, but it hadn't slapped her in the face quite like it had since she'd started listening to this girl.
"I don't understand?" she asked incredulously, after finally finding her voice.
The girl was about to answer when an amused voice sounded behind Buffy and Giles. "You know, I don't know whether I should stop this now, or wait until she's dug her hole a little deeper." Faith chuckled. "Aw, hell, I guess I'd better save her since I'm supposed to be one of the good guys now." She stopped between the two women and gestured to Buffy. "Lisa, meet Buffy." She waited a beat. "Summers."
Lisa the big-mouth Slayer now gaped, much as Buffy had before. She knew she 'd put her foot in it, but didn't quite know how to extricate herself without looking like a total fool. She was saved once again by Faith. "Come on, chick, I'll take you someplace and explain to you how it's not smart to piss off the alpha-Slayer." Faith led the younger Slayer away, leaving Giles and Buffy alone.
Both were quiet, but for entirely different reasons.
Buffy was still trying to absorb Lisa's attitude.
Giles, on the other hand, was trying to figure out what was happening. During the first meeting, Faith hadn't been there. She certainly hadn't taken the other girl away, leaving him and Buffy alone. What happened now? He'd been secure in the knowledge that he knew what would happen from one moment to the next. Now he was no longer sure. This conversation hadn't been anything like the other. Did that mean other things were different? Were Buffy's feelings different? Another thought struck him. Did this mean that Buffy wouldn't die a few years from now? His head began to hurt as the implications of what was happening swept over him with the power of an avalanche.
"Giles?" Buffy's voice pulled him away from his thoughts. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, yes I'm fine," he assured her absently, his mind still working on the problem at hand.
"Giles," she called again. She waited for a moment, and getting no answer, called again - this time with a bit more force. "Giles!"
He jerked his attention back to her.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" she asked, a bit peevishly.
"Nothing," he tried to reassure her. How was he supposed to tell her that he'd traveled back in time? How was he to tell her that he knew when she would die? But he didn't know that for sure, did he? If this conversation was changing, then the future, including her death, could change as well.
"That look didn't look like nothing to me," she shot back. Her demeanor suddenly deflated. "Was it because of Lisa? Because she's like I used to be?"
Giles wasn't sure how to answer this question, simply because this wasn't how the conversation had happened the first time. He was in as unfamiliar territory now as he'd been the first time.
"Was I really like that?" she asked again.
Giles, not being able to lie to her, no matter how he would like to, nodded. Her eyes filled with tears. "God, I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"Buffy, it was a long time ago," he said as he fought the urge to take her into his arms.
"That's not the point," she muttered fiercely. "You should have smacked me silly!"
He finally felt a small smile pull at his lips. "I had faith that you would eventually learn from your mistakes."
"I'm glad somebody did," she said disgustedly. She looked at her Watcher and sighed. "What did I do to deserve you? Whatever I did wasn't enough. You've stayed with me with everyone else has left, put up with me when anybody else would have told me to go to hell." She closed her eyes and wondered how she would ever make her mistakes right. It had taken years, but she had *finally* gotten it through her hard head. She had never been alone. She had survived and the man standing in front of her had been the main reason. Her eyes flew open when she felt his hand tipping her chin up so he could look into her eyes. He was so close that she could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body.
"Buffy," he began softly, "have dinner with me tonight?"
She struggled to keep up with the conversational swerve he'd thrown her. "Giles, we're having dinner with the others, you know that." She fought the urge to pull away from the intense scrutiny of his solemn green eyes.
"No," he shook his head, "have dinner with *me*." Giles held his breath as he watched the significance of his question penetrate her mind. He could see the exact moment when she understood exactly what he was asking. When she comprehended that he was asking for more than just her presence at a meal. That he was asking her to consider a future with him. He knew in his heart that he was right to follow this path. That didn't make the butterflies in his stomach any smaller. If he was wrong, he would lose the little part of her he had. But, if he was right, he would gain so much more.
And he needed more.
His knees went weak when he saw a small smile that grew into a full-fledged grin. "Why, Mister Giles are you asking me for a date?" Buffy did her best southern-belle drawl.
Giles felt his lips curve in an answering smile. "I believe I am, Miss Summers." He cleared his throat and formally said, "Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me this evening?"
She leaned into him and placed a small, chaste kiss on his lips before whispering, "Yes."
Finis