Fight Your Own Demon: Part 15

by AKA Becker

On her way to lunch, Buffy stopped into the library. "Giles?" she called out as she entered. She looked around as she walked in. It appeared empty, but it usually did until Giles would pop out of his office or from behind the stacks. "Giles, are you here?" she asked again.

She noticed a note on the book return counter.

"Out for Lunch. Will Return in 45 Minutes. Mr. R. Giles, Librarian," the note read.

"Wow, he even used small words," she remarked and headed off to meet Willow and Xander for lunch.

* * *


"You really don’t want to wear that do you?" she asked.

"What’s wrong with this shirt, you picked it out for me," Xander said, opening his eyes.

"Um, no I didn’t, and I meant your lunch," Buffy clarified. Really wondering what was going on in Xander’s world last night.

Xander realized two things when he opened his eyes. That wasn’t Cordelia talking, and his face was about an inch and a half from his potatoes. He sat up quickly. "I so need sleep."

"So I see," Buffy said with a smirk as she sat down. "So what exactly did you do last night, hmmm? Inquiring minds want to know?" Her smile was getting bigger, as she watched him squirm. She looked over at Cordelia who was fast asleep on her arms on the other side of the table. "Maybe I’ll just ask her."

"I wasn’t doing anything last night. We hung out and ate ice-cream then she left and I went to bed. Then you called and I got her to come over and we found Oz. I couldn’t fall back asleep, and I guess she couldn’t either," he smiled thinking that came out well.

"It sounds like a story, but it smells like something else," she replied, still smiling.

"Nothing really happened," he said.

Willow finally showed up and joined them. She plopped her books down on the table.

"Hey," Cordelia said, woken by Willow’s books.

"Hi guys," Willow said.

Buffy decided it would be a good idea to drop razzing Xander with Willow around. "You feeling OK, Willow?"

"Yeah, I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night," she said.

"None of us did," Buffy said. "Do you want to talk about what happened with your mom?"

"Not really," Willow replied.

"Do you want to help me with my math later," Xander said, trying to keep the subject away from his lack of sleep. He had been awake since Cordelia kicked him out of bed when his alarm went off at 5:30 that morning. He could practically fall asleep standing up at this point. Anything to keep Buffy from bugging him about his sleep was good.

"I can’t after school," Willow said.

"Why not?" he asked.

Buffy wanted to shut Xander up, but at the same time she also wanted to hear what her mom did when she got home.

"Mom’s picking me up after school today and tomorrow. I’m grounded, and I’m not allowed to see Oz," she said, and looked like she was going to cry.

"Being grounded never stopped me from seeing my boyfriends before," Cordy said.

"Too bad we can’t tell her the truth. It’s not your fault, or his," Buffy said.

"I know. I don’t really want to talk about it anymore," she said and wiped a tear from her eye.

"Well, just so you know, Giles went home to check on Oz," Buffy said.

"I just read the note. I have to go work on my lesson plan for my class," Willow said as she stood up.

"I thought you had that done for the next few weeks?" Xander asked.

"I do, but I need to fix it a bit," she said and grabbed her books to leave. "Bye."

"Bye," the three responded.

"Now I know why she is still so upset. Her mom will get over it, though," Buffy said.

"Her parents are pretty strict, Buffy. Why do you think she is the way she is?' Xander said. "They are tough on her. I don’t think her mom will want her dating anyone again for a year."

"God, where to they find these parents?" Cordy said.

"Somewhere other than your house. You know, in the real world," Xander said, and the bell rang to end lunch.

* * *


Willow sat down in the empty computer classroom and cried in full force for the first time since before she left Giles’ house. Once again she cried about Oz, but now it was for a very different reason.


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