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Title: Castaways 1/16 "Buffy!" Dawn yelled as she stepped away from the door, "It's for you!" The girl wandered back into the living room and resumed watching TV. Buffy hurried down the stairs, still adjusting her work uniform. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who was at the door. Great. He had to see her like this. She squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips. "What do you want, Travers?" The elderly Englishman smirked slightly. "It's very nice to see you, too, Miss Summers. May I come in?" Buffy stood back from the door and opened it a fraction wider. Travers squeezed his way inside. "Make it fast. I have to get to work," Buffy told him. "Work?" "Yes work. Y'know, that thing where you show up for eight hours a day somewhere and at the end of a week they give you a check that covers about a quarter of your expenses. You really ought to try it sometime." "Very amusing," Travers returned with a sour expression. "What I meant was it's nearly sunset. You should be out hunting vampires, not...doing whatever it is one does in that costume." "Just doing my bit to raise America's cholesterol count." "You have a sacred duty, Buffy. You can't shirk it." "Well, I also have a sacred duty to my sister, and Mastercard, and Visa, and the water company, and the phone company, and a whole bunch of other companies that require money on a regular basis. Now tell me why you're here and get out so I can pay at least some of my bills." "Of course," Travers returned blandly. "Buffy, the Council has become aware of late that there is an unusual amount of demonic activity near Miami, Florida. We don't know what's causing it, but it must be brought under control." Buffy folded her arms across her chest. "And this has precisely what to do with me?" Travers reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to Buffy. "There's a private plane leaving from the Sunnydale airport for Miami tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. You will be on it, along with a representative of the Council. You will go to Miami, get to the bottom of the phenomenon, restore balance in the area, and then return by the same plane." "Just like that? What about work? What about Dawn?" "I'm sure a young woman of your resourcefulness can adequately solve those questions without help from me. I'll let myself out." With a final smirk, Travers left. Buffy sighed. She opened the envelope. It contained a schedule and a set of instructions. Nothing else. "Great. So I get to spend a no-expenses paid not-vacation in almost Miami with some stuffy creep in a tweed suit. My day is complete." She pulled on the baseball cap with the cow face in the front and the rooster tail at the back. "My life sucks." ***** It was almost ten thirty the next morning when Buffy managed to reach the plane. She hefted her bags and climbed aboard the plane. "Hello, Buffy." Every fiber in Buffy's body stiffened at the sound of the mild voice. She spun around to face him. "Giles...? You're who the Council sent?" Giles shrugged. "It seems both my research skill and my ability to deal with recalcitrant Slayers are without equal." "Gee, could you sound a little less happy about that?" "I'm sorry, Buffy," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm afraid I haven't gotten much sleep the past couple nights, and I'm no longer used to that." Buffy chose a seat as far from Giles as she could manage and settled herself for the trip. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. "So take a nap. Don't mind me." "I take it you're still angry with me?" "Gee, why would I be mad at you?" "Is it because I left?" "Isn't that enough?" Giles sighed and tried again. "How is Dawn?" "Fine. Xander and Anya are staying at the house while we're gone." "What about Willow and Tara? Aren't they living with you anymore?" Buffy shrugged. "Tara moved out. Will's given up magic. Cold turkey. She's still a little shaky." Giles stared at Buffy. When he regained his power of speech, his tone was sharper than he'd meant it to be. "Why didn't anyone tell me? I might have been able to help Willow with this." Buffy glared at him. "So you can help Will out, but I have to just stand on my own two feet out of nowhere? I guess I know who you care more about now." "Buffy..." "No, Giles, it's okay. It's good to know where I stand. Now we don't have to pretend anymore." "But I..." "Save it, Giles. Look, I had to pull in more favors than I had to get the time off from work to do this. I'm tired, you're tired; let's just get some sleep and try to figure out how to get this over with as quickly as possible so we can go back to our lives and forget we had to see each other again." Before the final words had even left her mouth, Buffy turned her head to face the window. She hunched her shoulders and lowered her face, giving Giles the clear signal that she was not to be approached. As the plane began to move down the runway, Giles turned to look out his window. He idly wondered what his life would have been if he'd been allowed to pursue his childhood ambition of being a fighter pilot. Thinking of that lost dream was far less painful than looking at his lost Slayer across the aisle. She might as well be halfway across the globe from him instead of mere feet away. Half of him prayed that their trip would be short lived so as to minimize the sting of being with her when she was so angry and yet so needy. The other half of him hoped that he would have enough time to find a way to bring her out of her shell. Her misery was, if anything, even more palpable than when he left Sunnydale. Not for the first time, he cursed Quentin Travers for handing him this assignment. Across the aisle, Buffy cursed Travers just as bitterly and for the same reason. ***** Giles started and woke from a fitful sleep. His hand touched his brow, then moved to his pocket to pull out his handkerchief so he could wipe the sweat away. Nightmares, he thought ruefully, were one of the hazards of the job that Watcher training couldn't prepare one for. There had been times during his sojourn in Sunnydale when he'd wondered if he would ever know a decent night's sleep again. Across the aisle, Buffy breathed steadily. Giles was relieved to see that. When he'd returned to Sunnydale after her resurrection, nobody had warned him about her nightmares. He'd been peacefully ensconced on the sofa, nearly asleep over a book, when the screams began. Tara had hurried to Buffy's room to perform a soothing incantation and the house fell quiet again. Not that Giles got back to sleep. In the morning nobody was able to tell him what Buffy had dreamt of and Buffy herself had evaded his every effort to ferret the information out of her. Later in the day a chance comment by Dawn about the state of Buffy's hands when she returned had told Giles all he needed to know. Giles shook himself. He couldn't afford to sit about woolgathering. There was no telling what he might need to prepare Buffy to face when they landed in Miami. The portents had been vague and the incidents seemingly unrelated. He took up a thick volume and pored over its pages, determined to keep his thoughts at bay. He had a job to do, and his and Buffy's current discomfort at working together had no bearing on that. In her seat across the aisle, Buffy kept her breathing even. If Giles thought she was asleep, he wouldn't disturb her. *****
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