Interludes and Examinations

by Persephone

Somewhere over the Atlantic

"Buffy, do pay attention. When going to another country, it is of the utmost importance to understand its culture and values," Rupert Giles informed his stepdaughter.

Turning around in her airplane seat to fix him with an incredulous stare, Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer, replied sarcastically, "My God, Giles, do you have to make everything sound like a trip to the dentist? Can't I just sit back and enjoy the ride without having to listening to a lecture on 'God save the Queen' and the finer points of taking tea?"

Giles sighed. "I assure you that there is nothing more crucial to enjoying a journey then to know about the places you are visiting."

Buffy gave him a pitying expression, "Giles, haven't you ever heard of being spontaneous? Of just taking each moment as they come and enjoying it?"

"I am spontaneous," he protested.

Buffy raised an eyebrow, "Right." Giles was impressed by his step- daughter's ability to put volumes in that one word.

"Oh, Giles is spontaneous," Oz said amiably from the seat across from the blond Slayer. The young man/werewolf was leaning back in his chair with the same laid-back air that characterize just about everything he did. Well, almost everything, Giles privately amended thinking of the debacle with Willow and Xander the year before. It was the first and probably the only time that he had ever seen the young man at a loss of composure.

"Why, thank you, Oz," Giles replied, touched.

"In that way that only Giles can be spontaneous," Oz continued. Giles thought he detected a glint of good-natured mischief in his dark eyes.

"You mean, not at all?" Buffy replied tongue-in-cheek.

"Might I remind you, that I have, in the past, surprised all of you in ways that you neither suspected or expected," he replied stiffly.

From beside her daughter, Joyce, his wife, gave him a warm smile and a wink, "That's right--Ripper."

Giles removed his glasses and gave her an equally intense look. He knew that he wasn't the only one who was thinking of a night, a little over a year ago, back in Sunnydale, an encounter on the hood of a police car...

"Handcuffs?" he asked, intently.

"Still got 'em," Joyce gave him a wicked smile that made his heart pound just a little faster in anticipation.

Buffy, who was watching the two of them with unequivocable looks of disgust, rolled her eyes, "Yuck. Can't you two keep it in the bedroom like most normal people?"

"Be quiet," her mother told her without turning to look at her.

Rolling her eyes again, Buffy said, "Scoot over, Oz. All these jangling hormones over here are slightly revolting."

"Jealous," Joyce teased.

"You wish," Somehow, her tart reply fell somewhat short of being tart. Giles cast a glance over at his step-daughter. There was a visible shadow on her face, an aching loneliness in her eyes that somehow made him feel extremely guilty. It was odd to him that someone as beautiful and spirited as Buffy was spent so much time alone while he was in a loving, passionate relationship.

Of late, Buffy seemed to be devoting more and more of her time to slaying and forgoing the social aspects of her life all together-- an event that had them all worried. Willow and Xander, whilst disappointed about missing out on a trip to London, had hopes that a vacation in a foreign country would lift the cloud surrounding the Slayer of late. Indeed, Buffy's mood had improved vastly in the last week but Giles had the sinking feeling that it had less to do with a trip to London and more to do with seeing Angel again.

Angel. Giles felt his heart constrict as he remembered his phone conversation with the vampire a week earlier--more specifically, the young lady who had answered the phone. According to the cursed vampire, he had rescued this girl, this Cat, from a vampire attack and had been forced to take her into his confidence. Angel had been evasive about the outcome of his conversation with her, saying only that it had been taken care of. Giles could only wonder what that meant. Certainly, Angel seemed defensive where the young woman was concerned and from his brief exchange with her over the phone, Giles had gathered that she had no fear of Angel. For the last week, Giles had pondered the possibilities, worrying about how Buffy was going to take it when she found out Angel had a new friend. Or, he winced, that her step-father had known he had a new friend and hadn't told her.

The situation did not appear heartening.

"Honey?" Joyce slid her hand over his. Giles forced himself to put aside all those worrisome 'maybes' floating around in his head before he gave himself away. They would just have to deal with the problem of Angel and his new friend when they got there and at the moment, Giles would just as soon enjoy the plane trip.

It was probably the last bit of quiet time any of them would have for a while.

***

General William Damon glanced up from his laptop with a sigh of exasperation. The program housing his schedule and paper work for the next several weeks had inexplicably decided to close up. And despite his efforts to the contrary, it obviously intended to remain closed.

"Damn," he muttered, thumping his fingers impatiently against the keyboard.

"My sentiments exactly when dealing with those dreaded machines," replied a British voice beside him.

Damon turned his head to meet the sympathetic gaze of a man about his age, dressed conservatively in British tweed and pushing his glasses higher upon his nose. He had a kindly face, good-looking in what he had overheard Jade classify the 'rugged' look--craggy features and all that. He had noticed the man, his seatmate actually, come on board earlier with his what was obviously his family. Just watching them and listening to them interact had made him homesick for England and his own family--he was even missing Megabyte's smart-aleck remarks at the moment.

"The wonders of modern technology," Damon replied sarcastically in agreement. "I think the good old days of pen and paper were a lot simpler. And less stress inducing."

"I quite agree."

"William Damon," the General replied by way of introduction, sticking his hand out in greeting.

"Rupert Giles," came the polite reply and equally polite handshake.

"So," Damon drawled, "What takes you to London? Business or pleasure?"

"A little of both," Giles replied carefully. "And you?"

"Returning home actually."

"You live in London?"

"For almost five years now. It was a bit of a culture shock for my family after Vermont," he admitted. "My son was somewhat down on it at first."

"Young people generally are when confronted with the new and unknown," Giles replied knowingly. "My step-daughter, the blond girl over there, was quite reluctant to go off to college this year. Her S.A.T. scores were superb and could have gotten her into anywhere she wanted to go. The problem was that she had never really given college much thought and she was--was in a relationship that she wasn't ready to leave yet. It took quite a bit of doing on her mother's part to even get her to look at a college brochure."

"Same here. Marmaduke, my son, all but had to be dragged off to college this year. I literally had to walk him to his round of college interviews. All I heard all summer was his complaining that Adam, that's his best friend, wasn't going off to college, so why should he?" Damon rolled his eyes at the memory.

"Ah, yes. I've heard that argument, several times before," Giles said in commiseration. "Usually followed by several snide comments."

"Yep," Damon agreed, "And, of course, they never, ever really listen to a thing you have to say."

"Of course not."

The two men exchanged grins of understanding.

"It would seem, Rupert old man, that we have quite a lot in common," Damon observed.

"Indeed," Giles replied blandly, "I concur."

"You know, if we have this much in common, can you imagine what a meeting between our kids would be like?"

"Heaven forbid," Giles shuddered.

***

Heathrow Airport,
London, England.

"So what was that all about?" Buffy demanded as Giles drew near. She cast a suspicious glance across the airport terminal at the man he had just been exchanging farewells with.

Giles gave her warm smile and a fatherly clap on the arm. Her perfect blond brows raised to her hairline. "Just a meeting of kindred spirits," he said by way of explanation.

Kindred spirits, what a perfect expression for the instant rapport he had felt with William Damon. Listening to the man talk about his son, his worries about him--it was exactly how he felt about Buffy although he doubted that Damon's young son was hardly as worrisome as the Slayer was. Still, it had been wonderful to discuss parenting with another adult other than Joyce.

As much as he loved his wife, Giles was willing to admit that he felt intimidated by her in the parental arena. After all, Joyce was Buffy's mother, she had been there all of the young woman's life. She had the right to discipline her, to hear about all those things only mothers and daughters could share while he was the intruder, Buffy's Watcher, yes, but not her father. She already had one father, as she had once quite correctly pointed out. Though it had been sometime since his proposal and subsequent marriage to Joyce, things were still tense and hesitant between them at times. There were moments when Buffy seemed quite distant from him and then she would smile and hug him or say something that would make that distance seem to melt away.

Like now. Buffy was gazing at him in obvious concern, her china blue eyes huge and liquid with worry, "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Quite," Giles assured her. "I suppose we should catch up to your mother and Oz--speaking of which where are they?"

"Mom ducked into one of those tacky tourist shops," Buffy grimaced, "Oz sort of felt obliged to go with her, especially since she was dragging him along."

"Oh, dear." Giles winced as he recalled some of the more garish airport shops in Heathrow. Then groaned as he recalled that Joyce was holding all the travelers' checks.

"My thoughts exactly," Buffy exchanged a knowing glance with him. "So I was thinking, you could distract her and I'll grab her wallet and run."

"Buffy," he said quite sternly, "Do you actually think I would let you get away with such a stunt? That I would deceive your mother in such a way?"

Her face fell, "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am. Especially since your whole plan hinges on you having the travelers' checks," he replied, repressing a smile, "That idea is even more frightful than letting your mother buy tacky London snow globes."

"Hey!" Buffy slapped his arm--quite hard. Then looked contrite as she noticed the expression of pain in face as he clutched his arm, "Sorry, I sometimes forget my own strength."

"I noticed," he wheezed.

Quite suddenly, Buffy leaned forward and kissed his jacketed arm. Then she raised her head shyly, "Better?"

Taken aback by her sudden tenderness, he felt a warm rush towards this remarkable girl, the Slayer. His daughter. "Yes, thank you. Shall we go save Oz?" he asked gruffly, holding out his arm.

She took it with a grin, "We shall."

Maybe this parenting stuff was an ordeal more terrible than a hellbeast sometimes. Maybe he and Buffy would never quite figure out their now strange relationship--Watcher and Slayer, step-father and step-daughter. And maybe there would always be that element of uncertainty between them...

...but at moments like these, it was all worthwhile.

~ End ~