The days turned into weeks, the weeks turned into months, Buffy made no move to leave. Several weeks after she moved in, they had moved into another unit in the complex with two bedrooms. Buffy had protested, but Giles had insisted that the second room could convert into a study when she left. It was the last time either of them had mentioned her stay there as being temporary.
Giles enjoyed her company. She reminded him to grocery shop, and to run the dishes through the dishwasher. She seemed more comfortable having someone nearby and began sleeping less, but feeling more rested. He accompanied her on her evening hunts several times a week, and he shared with her what he learned in his books. He would read prophecies to her as he deciphered them, or tell her stories about past Slayers.
And sometimes, not often, she would talk to him about Angel. About their relationship, in terms that she had never used before, about how she felt for them, and how she felt both relief and grief at the violent end that he had met. One evening she asked him to read about him out loud to her, and he took out diaries of past Watchers, telling her about the violent Angel, the cruel and powerful Angel, the one she may have met had she not released the kinder, soulful Angel. This seemed to comfort her.
* * *
"Reading about me?" Buffy teased, lacing up her boots.
"Hmmm?" Giles glanced over at her. "Yes, actually, I was."
"Really? I was joking. What does it'say?" Buffy moved towards him, interested.
"Buffy, haven't I told you... knowing too much about your future, it's just asking -- "
"For trouble. Yeah, I think you've mentioned that a time or a hundred." She would not be persuaded. "Tell me what you found."
Giles cleared his throat and began to read. "And the Chosen Slayer shall bear a daughter, and she will be called; and she, being of strong blood on both parents, will be the most powerful Slayer to be known, and will defeat the darkness."
"Wow." Buffy sat down heavily in the chair next to the one that Giles rested in. "Wow. So I'm going to have a daughter, who will also be a Slayer, and she will finish what I don t?" She pondered this for a moment. "Will she be the last Slayer?"
"That's all it says; she will have powerful parents, you, a powerful and blessed Slayer, and whoever her father is."
"Someone special, apparently. I wonder who he is."
Giles could see the wheels turning in Buffy's head. "Don't think too much about it. You know it will happen; just let it."
"But what if I screw it up?" Buffy leapt from her chair and began pacing. "I've defied prophesy before, when I was supposed to die."
"Buffy, you did die. You fulfilled the prophesy."
"When will it happen?" she demanded.
"I don't know." Giles closed the book. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you. You shouldn't know your own future."
"Why not? I know my past, and eventually the future will be my past, won't it?" She looked thoughtful. "Being of strong blood on both parents..." She looked pleadingly at Giles. "What does that mean?"
"I already told you, it means that both of her parents will be strong, powerful." He moved her towards the door. "Now, go, please. You have work to do."
"Do you think it will be long? I'm no spring chicken, you know. I'm in my twenties."
"Buffy -- "
"I know, I know; I'm leaving."
As the door swung shut behind her, Giles turned back to the book. He wouldn't let Buffy know, but he, too, was curious. And anxious. When would this child come? Why wasn't Buffy mentioned again? Who would be this father of powerful blood? A shadow passed over Giles, and he felt as though he was looking at the past and future as one. Something was coming, he was sure of it.
* * *
Buffy loved playing dumb. As vampires came and went, she had turned into a phantom; a ghost. They all heard of the Slayer, who had destroyed the Master, but few could recognize her by sight. Being anonymous was an asset in her profession. It meant security. Like a superhero.
She loved to slip into clubs, or seedy bars, not that there were many of those in Sunnydale, all those breeding grounds for the nasties. She would let men buy her a drink, which she would never drink, lest it dull her senses, let them try to convince her to dance. She would laugh too loudly and say, "What?" a lot and be just the type of woman that vampires looked for. They always came to her. It was a game.
One by one, she'd pick them off. She left the house with a goal, tonight it was five. If she had to start dragging them out of their lairs at sun up she would do it.
The one by her side tonight was young, and cocky. He was trying too hard to be smooth, trying hard to impress her. She stood up quickly, and pretended she was dizzy. He was quick to catch her.
"Maybe you need some air," he suggested, leering at her.
Buffy nodded eagerly, as if it was the best suggestion that she'd heard all night. She let him take her hand and lead her out of the club by the back entrance. The alley was empty, and she leaned against the wall, opening her purse.
"I just know I have it in here somewhere," she muttered, pretending to search.
The demon came near her. "What are you looking for, darling?" He pressed against her as she held her bag higher.
"My lipstick. Did you see how much rubbed off on my glass? A-ha! Found it." Buffy drew her stake out of her bag. "A lady always looks her best." Viciously she plunged the stake home, coughing a little as dust blew towards her. With a motherly smile, she pattered her stomach.
"That was for you, sweetie," she cooed. "One less that you'll have to worry about."
* * *
Buffy came home exhausted. The night had been harder than most. Giles made some tea for her to sip as he ran her bath. Secretly, Buffy hated tea and she poured it down the sink when he was out of the room. How much money could they have saved if he stopped making her cup after cup, Buffy often wondered.
As she slip into the warm bath, pillow under her head, washcloth over her eyes, she sighed. This was the good life. Was every Slayer so lucky? Did every Watcher care for their charge so thoroughly? Would her daughter be so lucky? She smiled to herself. Her daughter. There was a certain freedom to knowing what would come to her.
A frown invaded her pleasant thoughts. A certain responsibility, as well. She had fought harder than ever tonight, taking every possible precaution. She had to keep herself safe from now on. She was responsible for a future Slayer. Would she be the next Slayer? Would she take over when Mommy was too old to keep at it? Would Giles be her Watcher, or would he be too old? Buffy giggled sinfully. Wouldn't Giles love to know that Buffy already had him penned as a geriatric and retired?
* * *
Giles woke to the sound of Buffy screaming. It jolted him out of the dream he had been having, and he ran into the nearby room before he registered what the sound was. Nice to know my instincts work, he thought to himself as he sat on Buffy's bed.
Buffy's screaming had stopped, and her face was pressed into her hands. Her shaking shoulders told Giles that she was crying.
"Take a deep breath," he told her, awkwardly patting her shoulder.
"Giles!" she cried, throwing herself into his arms. His sat there for a moment before holding her. "It was awful."
"What was?" Feeling more comfortable, Giles stroked her back and tried to comfort her.
"I dreamt- I dreamt," she choked back a sob before continuing. "I was giving birth, and I heard her crying. The doctor said, it's a girl. I told him that I knew and her name was Sarah, and then Colin came up and the doctor handed her to him and said, and here's the proud papa. Colin said, Sarah, hm? What a sweet name. And then he left with her!" Buffy seemed to be calming down, realizing that the dream was over and she was in reality.
"Sarah is a sweet name," Giles began, hoping to distract her. "it's my mother's name."
"Is it?" Buffy was happy for the shift in conversation. "I guess that will be her name."
"You couldn't have chosen a better name for her," he assured her, brushing her hair back from her wet face.
"You don't think that Colin will be her father do you?" she asked quietly, horror in her voice.
"No. I know that he will not. He can't be anyway; he's a vampire."
"That's right," Buffy's voice sounded sleepy, and she was growing limp in his arms. "Will you stay with me Giles? I don't want to be alone."
"Of course. That's what Watcher's are for."
As he laid her down, tucking the covers around her, and laid next to her, he reflected on how he had grown since meeting her. Once, he would have been shy and awkward holding her, and then laying near her, but not now. He felt comfortable, and was glad that she did as well. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he was sure that it was with happy thoughts.
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