* * * * * *
~Giles~
I wonder now what would have happened if that newspaper hadn't caught my
eye,
prompting me to begin a search among many musty books I hadn't thought to
use
in years. And later, even as I was berating myself for the foolish
relaxation that had taken over my system, I was dialing the numbers that
I
knew by heart, almost automatically.
I called Willow first, then Oz, then Xander, who had Cordelia staying with
him. I told him to bring her. I paused for a moment and then called Angel,
knowing intuitively that we would need him for whatever battle was coming,
knowing that my concern was for Buffy and the other children's safety, not
for the relationship that everyone still speculated about.
Still, I worried about telling her. When I finally called Buffy, she sounded
amused and resigned, almost patronizing, and I had to check myself when a
smile tugged at my mouth. Now was no time to be getting amused. Surely she
thought that my kitchen was on fire.
When she arrived, I gathered my courage and slowly explained the extent of
what I had learned. After her initial shock had passed, and she slipped into
the ready girl I knew she always would be, I felt yet one more confession
needing to be spoken.
"The others are on their ways," I said hesitantly. "Xander and Willow,
Cordelia, Oz, and... ah..." I couldn't seem to get his name past my lips.
Her eyes were veiled, her expression shuttered. "You invited Angel?" she
asked without preamble.
I cringed at the tone in her voice; it was softer, almost as though she were
that seventeen year old again, the one falling in love for the first time
and
experiencing her heartbreak. "I did, yes. I thought that it might behoove
us to use him in battle, if there is actually a battle...."
Her shoulders straightened then, and she was the strong, mature woman I had
practically raised again. "It's okay, Giles." Her eyes contained a certain
sadness that I didn't know how to respond to, but also a curiosity that I
can't describe.
Was she wondering about him?
Why shouldn't she?
* * * * * * * *
Once most of the group was assembled, I outlined what I knew-- or, most of
it. It wouldn't help anyone to tell them what wasn't yet certain, what none
of us could decipher. They listened and nodded, hearing the words that I
was
saying, and yet still remaining in their own little worlds, some of them
smiling occasionally, looking around the room.
I had a hard time not doing that myself.
It had been a long time between meetings; real ones, that is. A long time
since we had all worked together on something so vital, so important. Buffy
would argue that planning birthday parties was important, but this was
different. We all could feel it in the air, the nostalgia. The memories of
times past, the memories of saving the world and doing it together.
I paused from speaking to clear my throat, but not for the reason they must
have suspected. For a moment, I had been overwhelmed with a joy that I
couldn't express, overwhelmed with a feeling of serenity that only these
people could bring me.
And then a moment later, that peace was taken away, and I knew why.
I didn't blame him, but I knew that he was the cause of it.
Angel had arrived.
The tension was so thick, it seemed palpable, tangible. As we watched Buffy
and Angel look at each other, several emotions flickering across their faces,
we wondered what each of them was going to do. I saw sadness inside of
Buffy, a deep pain, and also a hope that she would never admit resided within
her heart. And in Angel, I felt as though he were seeing her as only a lover
could, seeing her as though there were no danger of his soul being taken
away. Each of them trembled slightly at the nearness of each other, but
neither seemed to notice.
Buffy finally broke the silence, her voice shaking. "Hi, Angel."
He cleared his throat, obviously rattled at what had passed between them.
"Hi, Buffy."
"So... You may be able to help with this?" she asked, perhaps not realizing
how uncertain her own voice was, how scared and small. She sucked her lower
lip into her mouth, a nervous habit that I thought had been broken years
ago.
Apparently, I was wrong.
A smile slid over Angel's face, and I glanced around to see that everyone
else was holding their breath with mine. I was astonished at my surprise
over the tension and the heat and uncertainty of them. I should have
expected it.
I *did* expect it.
His eyes devoured her, and then he opened his mouth. I noticed Buffy
shifting her eyes away from his face as he started to speak.
"I don't know anything yet, really," he began. "But I'm sure that, given
time, I would be able to find out. Now the only question is, how much time
is there for me to do that?"
The group pinned me with their gazes, and I shifted, feeling out of my
element, though that was nonsense and I knew it. I shook my head at Angel.
"A matter of days, I'm fairly sure. One week, perhaps. Possibly less."
"Possibly?" Willow leaned forward. "How much less?"
"I would say that we needed to be ready in five days' time," I said slowly.
"Okay then, we have three days or two months." Xander grinned. "Giles has
always been either early or late."
I looked at him, and he smiled easily under my glare. I shook my head.
"Xander may have a bit of a point," I muttered, swallowing a large dollop
of
my pride. "The sooner we are ready for action, the sooner we know what is
going to happen, the better."
"I'm a man with lots of points," Xander said smugly.
Cordelia elbowed him. "Yes, on your head and in your pants."
Angel cracked another smile, as Buffy and Willow snickered at the wounded
expression on Xander's face.
Was I right in saying it was like the past?
If I had any doubts before, I certainly didn't then.
CONTINUES