Title - What They Would Want (1/1)
Author - Evil Willow (lcaspell@yahoo.com)
Spoilers - General for all Five seasons of BtVS. Specific for
"The Gift." (Season Finale)
Rating: NC-17
Distribution:
http://groups.yahoo.com/messages/Vamps_N_SlayersFanfic 
Anyone who has permission for other fics may archive this. Any
list archives may also take. Otherwise, just ask me, I always
say yes.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss owns all. I just play with them. 
Keywords/Warnings: MAJOR angst, Giles/? smut (I will tell you
the mystery person's a female.)
Summary: A month after "The Gift," Giles tries to find the
strength to keep going. 
Author's Notes: I never had any intention of doing a Giles-fic.
But it was a demand by my very irritated beta, crazyevildru,
after I announced my intention to kill a character in another
fic she's beta'ing for me. I like her being my beta, so I agreed
to write this. So it's all her fault. ;-)

***********
Rupert Giles is tired. Too tired to let himself slow down and
just stop. Just sit. Just grieve. He can't do any of those
things. He can't. Because if he did, he isn't sure he'd be able
to pick up the pieces and start living again. He knows he has
to. 

Buffy would want that for him. 

He knows that, somewhere deep down in the back of his mind. So
he keeps going. 

He checks up on Dawn every morning. Makes sure she gets off to
school. He always sees the signs that Spike's been there all
night, as he walks into the living room: faintest smell of
cigarette smoke, cigarette butts in an ash tray near the couch.
Mug with traces of pig's blood on the coffee table. 

But he never sees Spike. He's grateful for that. He knows Spike
cared for Buffy, but he will never forgive Spike for letting
himself get pushed off Glorificus' fucking tower. If only he'd
just fought a little harder, maybe....

Giles' life for the past five years has been consumed with 'if
onlys' and 'maybes'.

If only they'd known about the happiness clause sooner, maybe
Jenny would still be alive. Maybe Buffy wouldn't have had to
send her lover to hell. Maybe she wouldn't have run away. 

If only Giles had seen the signs that Riley was slipping away,
maybe he'd have been able to talk some sense into the boy. Maybe
Riley wouldn't have left Buffy and made her think she wasn't
able to love.

If only they'd known just how sick Joyce was, maybe they'd have
been able to find a doctor to save her. Maybe she wouldn't have
died, taking a little bit of Buffy's will to live along with
her. 

If only he'd been able to hold onto the damn fact that Ben and
Glory inhabited the same body, maybe he'd have been able to
track down Ben and kill him. Maybe Buffy would still be alive.
Maybe he wouldn't feel like his heart had shattered in a million
pieces. 

But the 'If only's' and the maybe's don't help him keep living.
So he pushes them aside every time they spring up into his
consciousness. Like now. He goes into Buffy's house and makes
sure Dawn eats breakfast and then drives her to school. 

So he's lost one daughter but ended up with another. A poor
substitute in his eyes, though it's not the girl's fault. Giles
knows that. He reminds himself of it constantly. Dawn beats
herself up every second of every minute of every hour of every
day that she lives. She didn't ask her sister to sacrifice
herself. So Giles does all he can to keep from showing the
disappointment he feels that she's alive and Buffy's not. If she
saw it, it would destroy her.

Buffy would never forgive him. 

So he keeps going. Every day. Smiles falsely when he's with
Dawn, tries to draw her out and make her talk to him about the
inane details of the life of a highschooler. Details that bring
him pain, sometimes.

They're on the way to the school when Dawn speaks up: "Someone
actually asked me, yesterday, if I would try out for
cheerleading. Can you believe that?" 

The little things that make his heart hurt, proving it's still
there. Still beating.

*Buffy was a cheerleader.*

"Giles? Hello?" 

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, Dawn. I did hear you, truly. And... um, if
you *want* to try out for cheerleading--"

"EEW!" 

"Whatever you want to do," he says with a sigh. He waits for her
to walk into the school, just like always, before he pulls away.
He's well aware of the fact that if left to herself, Dawn
wouldn't go to school and she'd get put in a foster family.
Giles won't let that happen.

Buffy would never forgive him. 

*********

Giles drives to The Magic Shop next, finds Anya already there.
She opens the shop every day for him. Giles has been amazed at
how she does quite a bit to help, actually. Much to his
surprise. If only she'd learn how to be polite and civil to the
customers that irritate her. He tried to explain this to her
once, as kindly as possible. 

She asked him: wasn't that hypocritical? 

He was relieved when Xander took over. Xander had grown into
quite the mature young man, in the five years Giles had known
him. He did a better job at teaching Anya how to be human. He
was more patient with her. 

"Hi, Giles." 

"Good morning, Anya." 

Giles tries not to be too upset with the girl for having a smile
on her face. For being happy. She *is* engaged. He reminds
himself daily that she wasn't really *that* close to Buffy.
She's only let herself get close to Xander. She risked her life,
pushing him out of way of danger, that night. Besides, she helps
Xander deal with his grief. 

That's good.

Anya helps Xander. 

Tara helps Willow.

Giles helps Dawn. 

Dawn helps Spike.

He helps all of them... 

Nobody helps him. 

Not that they didn't attempt to. The day after they buried
Buffy, Willow tried to help him. She asked him if he was okay.
He smiled and said he was fine. He knew by her expression that
she didn't believe him. She asked every day, and he gave her the
same answer. She gave up after a week. 

He isn't sure now if it was smart, shutting out the sympathy
like that. But there's nothing he can do about it now. It was
probably the only thing he could do, to keep from breaking down
and not ever being any good to anyone ever again. 

"Giles?" 

"I'm sorry, Anya," he looks over at the girl, who's standing in
front of him. "Did you say something?" 

"I said... Did you want me to check the inventory in the back?" 

He sees the concern in her eyes and feels the need to get away.
"No, I'll do it. Just... watch the register," he shrugs and
heads toward the storage rooms. He walks past the training room,
the door is shut. Locked. He locked it the day after Buffy died.
They had stood at the foot of the tower, for what felt like
hours, before Giles finally called the paramedics. He'd told
them that Buffy was climbing the tower when she fell. He knows
he must have added something else... something to make the story
reasonable... but he can't remember what it was, now. But once
they'd confirmed what he knew, that Buffy was dead, he had given
them the name of the funeral home. The same funeral home Buffy
had used for Joyce. Then he had taken the rest of Buffy's
friends back to their individual homes. Even Spike was dropped
off at the cemetery, given a blanket to keep from burning up in
the sun as he ran to his crypt. Giles had returned to the Magic
Shop. Gone into the training room. One last time. Didn't cry.
Even though the pain made it hard to breathe, he couldn't let
himself cry. He looked around, one last time, realized there was
nothing in there that he wanted. He went out and locked the
door. 

Giles walks past the door now, and feels a chill as he does. He
gets those feelings ever so often. The feelings that tell him:
Buffy is supposed to be here. He shakes the feeling away, as he
does hundreds of times a day, and walks to the storage room.
Time to do inventory. A mundane task to lose himself in and
pretend there's no pain. 

**************

Several hours later, the others begin to trickle in. Willow and
Tara pick up Dawn from school. When she wants to come to the
shop, they bring her. Today she wanted to come. Giles helps her
get herself situated with her homework. Listens to Willow, Tara
and Anya chat. He doesn't join in the conversation, just sits at
the table and lets himself get lost in their small talk. Another
thing to lose himself in and pretend there's no pain. 

*Buffy would not have wanted *this* for me.* 

The thought takes him by surprise and for a moment he can't
breathe. But he knows it's true. When she sacrificed her life,
it was so all those she loved could have *their* lives. And this
is not a life, this.... numbness. But he knows that he can't
help it.

*By sacrificing her life she took mine, as well.*

He is surrounded by people. All the people that Buffy loved. But
none of them are the ones he wants to see. Buffy was the reason
he was sent to Sunnydale. He made her life his. He protected her
and trained her. Then he did something that they were trained
not to do, when they were accepted into the Watcher's Council. 

He started to care about her. 

Jenny had seen it coming, before he had. 

Kind of ironic, now that he thought about it. 

Jenny was the only other person that Giles had ever let himself
love. 

Two women, both taken away from him by the Hellmouth. 

Buffy, the daughter he'd never had but always wanted and Jenny,
the one who he could have had happily ever after with.

He should have known better than to let himself love, in both of
their cases. 

Now he had nothing. Nobody. The only reason he keeps going was
because they both would have wanted that for him. He just isn't
sure if that is a good enough reason anymore.

"Hey, gang." 

Xander's voice brings Giles back to the here and now. The boy
looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes. As does Willow,
now that Giles takes the time to look. Both feel the absence of
Buffy, but both have refused to let go of this life. Giles will
never call them on it, as he's doing the same thing. They've all
tried to fill the void the slayer left, themselves. They plan,
they patrol. They slay. Even though they all think of her and
feel the space where she used to be. The seat Buffy used to take
at the table at the Magic Shop always remains free. As does the
chair at Giles' apartment that was 'Buffy's chair'. As if
they're all subconsciously waiting for her to walk in and sit
down. 

"Giles?" 

Willow's voice this time. "Hm?" He looks up at her, briefly,
avoiding catching her eyes for too long. He can't show the grief
he feels. 

"Anything Hellmouthy to slay, G-Man?" Xander asks. 

"Don't call me that," Giles sighs, out of habit now more than
irritation. *I'd miss it if he didn't* he thinks, wryly. 

"Sorry," Xander replies with the shrug and sheepish grin
combination that Giles knows he's seen thousands of times. "So?"


"I..." Giles hasn't paid attention to the situation on the
Hellmouth lately. He'd meant to have Dawn ask Spike... but he
hadn't gotten around to it. Doing so would have been an
admission that they need Spike. And he's not ready for that,
yet. 

He remembers the call he got from the Watcher's Council
yesterday. He knows he should tell them. He stares at the table
top as he does, not wanting to see their grief renewed at
another reminder of Buffy's death. "I did get a call... from the
Council," he says. "They're trying to persuade the judge who
sentenced Faith, to let her out early. If they manage it,
they'll send her here." 

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

"NO!" 

Giles winces when Xander finally breaks the silence angrily. 

"She will NOT take over," Xander says. "Buffy wouldn't want--"

"BUFFY'S NOT HERE TO MAKE THAT DECISION!" Giles yells, his eyes
snapping up to meet Xander's. He hears the gasps of surprise at
the first sign of emotion he's shown since the painfully long
seconds he spent watching his slayer fall, long dead before she
hit the ground with a sickening thud. 

Giles feels as if all the air has left the room. He can't
breathe. He gets up without saying a word, and walks out of the
shop. He knows that Anya will close up for him. She's
responsible enough that he could probably let her run the place.

He also knows that nobody will check on him. They don't know how
to help him, so they would be afraid to try. Afraid they'd just
make things worse. The only two women who would've known how to
help him are both gone. So he'll manage on his own. Even though,
each day it gets more difficult for him to make the effort.

**************

He drives to his apartment and walks inside. It's peaceful.
Quiet. Empty. Just like his life. He tosses his keys on the
table by the door and grabs a bottle of vodka as he walks
upstairs. He drinks more than he used to, just another thing to
lose himself in and pretend there's no pain. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and takes a long swallow of the
alcohol. He winces at the burning sensation, then wonders if he
remembered to eat at all today? He sighs and pulls himself up
off the bed again to go down to the kitchen and fix himself
something to eat. He has to start taking better care of himself.


Buffy would want that for him. 

When he reaches the kitchen he is bewildered to find a plate,
holding a sandwich, and a glass of iced tea sitting on the
table. He looks around. "Hello? Anybody there?" he calls. He
gets no response. He tries to remember when Tara and Willow
showed up at the magic shop. It has to be the work of Willow.
She, more than the others, sees the pain he tries to keep
hidden. 

He offers up a silent thanks for her unobtrusive display of
fussing and then sits down at the table to eat. When he's
finished, he feels better. Well enough to drink himself
unconscious, without too much danger of getting sick in the
process. He returns back up the stairs and frowns again as he
stands in the doorway. 

The comforter and the sheets have been turned down. He didn't do
that. This is starting to get disturbing. "Hello?" he says
again, walking into his room and looking around. When he sees
her, he sits down on the bed abruptly, his heart pounding in his
chest. 

"Jenny?" 

She has been standing by the window looking out and she turns,
smiling at him. "Hello, Rupert."

"How," he manages even though he's so close to bursting into
tears and crying like a child. Then it hits him like a
sledgehammer. "This is a dream."

"It's not a dream," she says, shaking her head as she walks
closer to him. She's wearing a long red nightgown, with
spaghetti straps and a low cut bodice. Her dark hair is pulled
back by a matching red ribbon. Giles wants to reach out and
touch her but doesn't. If it isn't a dream, then it's a ghost.
And he'd die if he couldn't touch her. 

"They're worried about you, Rupert. They know you haven't cried.
She was like a daughter to you, why haven't you let yourself
grieve?" 

*They? Who are they* 

"The Powers that Be," Jenny responds to his unspoken question.
"They're the ones in charge of everything that happens in this
dimension. They sent me because they're afraid you're about to
give up." 

Her hand reaches out and caresses his face and he draws back
with a gasp. A warm hand. A real hand. "Whatever you are, please
stop torturing me," he pleads. 

"Rupert, you're not listening to me," Jenny chides. "I'm Jenny
Calendar. Very real, and very much here. I was sent here to help
you understand that you're not doing yourself any good by
refusing to grieve, refusing to feel. You *have* to feel,
Rupert." 

"I can't," he replies. "Have to be strong for them." 

"You can do both," she says as she sits down on the bed next to
him. "Besides, while you're being strong for them, who's being
strong for you?" 

He blinks back unbidden tears at her repetition of his earlier
thought. He shakes his head helplessly, still not having an
answer for the question. 

"Let me be strong for you," she whispers as she draws his head
to her shoulder. 

He takes in the scent of her as he lays his head on her
shoulder. It's the same scent that lingered with him for weeks
after her murder. It isn't a lie, this is Jenny. He shudders as
he tries to fight the emotions that are threatening to overwhelm
him. 

"Let it out, Rupert, before it poisons you," she urges as she
runs a hand through his hair. 

He lets out a loud sob and that's all it takes to cause his
control on his emotions to slip. He begins to cry,
uncontrollably, as Jenny moves behind him to pull him into the
circle of her arms. She rocks him and murmurs to him softly as
he lets out the pain and sorry in heart-wrenching sobs. He
acknowledges the pain and it seems to build, to the point where
he's sure it's going to split him in two. And then, finally, it
begins to subside, as do his tears. He quiets and just lets
himself remain in the comfort of Jenny's arms. 

"It'll get easier," she says softly. 

"Tell me why I should care enough to wait for it to," Giles asks
bitterly. He looks into her eyes and still feels the twinge in
his heart that tells him he's still hopelessly in love with this
woman.

"Because," Jenny replies. "You're needed here."

"To do what?" Giles wonders. "Fight evil?" He chuckles. "There's
always another one, a little stronger. I can't lose another
person. I lost you... I lost Buffy... I'm tired of losing. I
can't do this again," he whispers. 

"You're assuming you're going to lose again," Jenny replies.
"You don't know that for certain, but it's all part of life. You
have to take the risks in order to feel the good things. And no
matter what happens, you'll be okay," Jenny says firmly. "The
Powers picked you for a reason. You're strong enough to get
through this and fight another fight. You've just got to
remember to let yourself be human. Share your grief with the
others. They aren't going to break, Rupert. They're strong
enough, too." 

Giles finally lets himself touch her, and is relieved when she
is still solid. "Are you real?" he asks in disbelief. 

"It's me, Rupert," she replies with a smile. 

"I'm so tired of being alone."

"You're not alone," Jenny says, caressing his cheek. "Rupert, I
have been here with you, always. I am so proud of you for how
well you've protected Buffy. And Buffy... she's happy now,
Rupert. I promise you that. She's with her mother and she's also
proud of you for how you've taken care of those she left
behind."

He feels the tears in his eyes at hearing the words he's been
dying to hear. He just wanted to know she was at peace. 

"I've missed you so much, Jenny," he says. He leans in to kiss
her and she tastes the way he remembers. Her lips part and he
deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue inside her mouth. She
moans and he turns in her arms, pushing her back on the bed. He
doesn't know if she's back for good, but he's afraid to take the
time to ask. 

Her hands trail over his back and pull his shirt out of his
pants. He smiles as he moves to suck on her earlobe. Glad she
wants this as much as he does. "Rupert," she sighs and he feels
himself grow hard. He needs her. 

Her hands are at his chest now, unbuttoning his shirt. He groans
at the feeling of her hands running over his chest, and takes a
breast in his hand, squeezing it gently. She whimpers and arches
up against him and he pulls away for a moment, raising up on his
knees and shrugging off his shirt. 

A glance at her face and he sees nothing but desire there. He
settles on his side next to her as he begins kissing and nipping
at her throat, while his hand returns to teasing her breast. She
moans and he slips his hand under the bodice of her robe,
brushing his fingers over her nipple. She gasps and he takes the
nipple between his fingers, pinching and rolling it gently. 

"Rupert," she moans. He slips his other hand underneath her and
finds the zipper of her nightgown. He ulls it down quickly as he
hisses in a sharp breath. Her hands have become busy, pinching
and tugging at his nipples. "Jenny, love you," he moans as he
pulls the straps of her nightgown down her arms and then slips
it down over her breasts. He groans again as he sees her perfect
breasts. Tries not to think of the night they should have had,
when he found her dead in the bed. 

"I love you too, Rupert," Jenny whispers, taking his face in her
hands and pulling him down for a kiss.

He wonders if this is Their way of making it up to him for that
lost night? Shrugs that thought away. It doesn't matter. Buffy's
death has taught him not to overanalyze the moments. Accept them
for what they are. Treasure the good ones. Dismiss the bad ones.


This is a good one that he'll treasure until the day he dies, no
matter what happens in the morning. He squeezes her breast and
smiles against her mouth when she whimpers. He kisses his way
down her throat and chest to the other breast. He takes it into
his mouth and suckles it, savoring the way she moans his name
and clutches at his head, holding him to her. He continues to
knead the other breast with his hand, occasionally pinching the
nipple and making her whimper. He likes hearing the whimpers. 

"Rupert, please, I want to feel you inside me," she says,
between pants of breath. 

He pulls away and nods, understanding that she doesn't want or
need any more foreplay. They've waited too long already for
this. He kisses her again, passionately and then pulls her
nightgown down over her hips. He lets it fall to the floor and
then does the same with her matching red panties. 

He takes a deep breath as he looks at her. Certain he's never
seen a woman as beautiful and doubts he ever will again. He
moves off the bed and unfastens his pants, pushing them off his
legs, along with his boxers. Straightens up and looks at her.
He's encouraged by her smile as she lets her eyes roam over him.


"You are one incredibly sexy man, Rupert Giles," she says with a
grin. "But somehow I doubt that's the first time you've heard
that."

He shrugs. Ripper was a ladies man. Long in his past, however.
It's been a very long time since he's been with a woman. Giles
didn't have time for any of that. Unnecessary distractions, he
used to call them. Idiot. 

He crawls back onto the bed and says, "You are far more
beautiful than any woman I've ever seen before." Pleased by her
smile and the slight blush of her cheeks. He settles over her,
bracing his hands on either side of her head and gasps when he
feels her hand close around his cock. "Jenny," he groans.

"I want you now, Rupert," she says as she guides him to her. He
slides into her, finding her very wet, ready for him. He moans
at the feeling of her encasing him. 

"Oh god," she whimpers, putting her legs around his hips and
pulling him even deeper. They both moan when he's finally
completely inside her. 

It's been far too long. He takes a few shaky breaths, trying to
regain control before he withdraws and then thrusts inside her
again. She cries out and arches against him. He sets a slow,
steady pace, moving inside her. It isn't long before she meets
his thrusts, her moans and whimpers making him fight hard to
keep control. 

He leans down and takes one of her breasts in his mouth, sucking
on it. She arches up against him, with a cry of his name. He
rolls them over, so he's on his back and she begins to ride him,
harder and faster. He groans and puts his hands at her hips,
guiding her movements. He isn't going to last much longer.
Especially now that she's pinching and tugging at his nipples.
He moves a hand to her wet curls and finds her clit, flicking it
with his thumb. She moans and leans down to lick and then bite
one of her nipples. He yells her name and pinches her clit
roughly as he feels his orgasm approaching quickly. She tenses
and then climaxes, with a yell, "RUPERT!" 

He groans and follows her, as her muscles contract around him.
She falls limply to his chest and he tightens his arms around
her. He tries to run his hands through her hair and encounters
the bit of red ribbon that she's tied it back with. He unties it
and lays it beside him on the bed. 

Jenny smiles up at him. "Like my hair better down?" 

"I think you could die it purple and I'd still adore you," he
replies with a smile. It feels strange to smile, but it feels
right, at the same time. 

She laughs, a melodious sound that fills him with so much joy it
hurts. "You're a strange man, Rupert." 

"But you love me anyway, right?" he replies teasingly. 

"I think, *because* of it," she shrugs and lays her head back
down on his chest. 

"Jenny--" 

"Just sleep, Rupert," she interrupts him. "I love you and you
love me. That's all you need to know." 

He nods and ignores the voice in his head that tells him there's
more that he needs to know. No, he'll not tempt ... The Powers?
he thinks that's what she called them. They've given him this
time with her. He'll accept that and not question the rest. The
rest will make itself known soon enough. 

He groans when his alarm clock wakes him. He reaches blindly for
it, switching it off. Then he feels it. The absence of Jenny. He
feels a twinge of sadness as he opens his eyes, expecting to see
what he sees: nothing. She's not there. It was a dream. 

He rolls over onto his side as a single tear slips from his eye.
Then he sees it, a hint of red. He reaches for it and looks at
it in wonder.

The red ribbon she tied her hair back with. 

He smiles through the tears as he holds it tightly. 

So it wasn't a dream. He remembers then, all the things that she
said to him last night. She was and will always be with him. She
and Buffy. He still has them in his life. 

It still hurts, but he thinks that he can make it now. He can
keep going. He will be able to pick up the pieces and start
again. Letting himself feel. Letting himself grieve. Letting
himself love. Letting himself live.

They would want that for him.

*******************
THE END


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