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Title: A Mile In His Moccasins 2/26 Buffy sighed as she rinsed the final plate and placed it in the rack to drain. Now all she had to do was take out the garbage, move the laundry from the washer to the dryer, decide which of the five bills that had appeared in the previous day's mail absolutely had to be paid immediately, write the checks for them, and scrub the toilet before it was time to get into her uniform and go to work. At least she'd managed to cook breakfast and feed Dawn before she had to go to school. "It just never ends, does it?" she grumbled to herself. Once she got back from work, she would have to do a quick patrol and then come home to another round of dishes and dropped clothing and garbage and yardwork and window washing and all the things she'd simply taken for granted would be done just a year before. "How did you do it, Mom?" she wondered. Of course, it had helped that there had been an adequate household income in her mother's day. There had even been a period before Joyce's illness when there had been a maid service once a week to take care of things like scrubbing in the bathroom and heavy duty vacuuming. Now it was a matter of dealing with whatever was growing mold and playing Russian Roulette with the bills. Giles' fairy godmother check had long gone to full copper repiping and paying the mortgage. As for Giles himself...no, she couldn't let herself go there. If she let herself think about it, she would hurt, and then she wouldn't be strong enough to deal with all the things that needed her immediate attention. Things like garbage. She gathered up the bags and headed to front door. She flung the door open and headed out, head down, only to collide into something solid. The obstruction went down with a muffled 'oof' and Buffy stood staring at something she'd never thought she'd see again: her Watcher sprawled on the ground knocked unconscious. ***** When Giles came to he found he'd been moved inside and laid on the sofa. Buffy was applying a damp washcloth to his forehead. "I see you're back," she said in a carefully neutral voice. "Yes, thanks. Did you carry me in here all by yourself?" "Will helped. I can deal with the weight, but you're too bulky for me to heave you around without either a hand from someone else or a lot of bruises for you. What brings you back to the Hellmouth?" "I am your Watcher." "Could've fooled me." For the first time, Giles heard the bitterness in her voice. Not for the first time, he mentally kicked himself for not calling and testing the waters before coming over. "I know you must be upset with me, Buffy..." "Upset? Maybe looking for a different word here. Maybe something like furious. Or possibly not interested." She tossed the washcloth into a basin of water with a splash that overflowed the sides and sloshed onto the carpet. Buffy stood and took the water into the kitchen. when she returned, she held a steaming mug in her hand. "Sit up. I made you some tea." Giles reached for the mug gratefully and took a sip. He smiled. A dash of milk and one spoon of sugar. She'd made it just right. "Thank you." Buffy shrugged. "I figured you'd need it after that tumble. I could take you to the ER if you want. I think I have time before work." "No, that's all right. No major damage done, I think. Bit of a headache, but I've had my share of those." The silence grew uncomfortable as Giles sipped his tea and Buffy stared at him resentfully. Her body was curled in on itself defensively on the farthest chair she could find from him. "So do I get an explanation or are you just going to walk back into my life like you never left?" Giles set his mug down on the coffee table and rubbed his chin as he collected his thoughts. "The Council has decided that you do need a Watcher, after all. I know you know this, because Quentin Travers told me he'd spoken to you on the matter." "And he knows I told him what he can do with his Council and every Watcher in it." "Yes, so he told me," Giles said failing utterly to suppress a smile. "But he insisted, and since we've worked together well in the past..." "Operative word 'past', Giles." "I'm sorry I left, Buffy, but I really felt I had no choice." "Did you have one in coming back?" "No. It was this or a disciplinary hearing and unemployment followed by a general blacklisting from every worthy job I might apply for," he told her bluntly. "I won't lie to you. This was in no way my idea, and I fought against it. I felt you needed more time on your own. But I am glad to see you again. I've...um...I've missed you. More than I realized I would, even." Buffy looked steadily at the floor. "Where are you staying?" "I haven't arranged a room yet." Buffy shrugged. "Why pay for a hotel? I've got a couch." "I wouldn't want to impose..." "Giles, I'm trying here. Don't make me want to hit you more than I do already." "Who could resist such an invitation?" Giles observed with a wry half smile. "All right, I'll stay, but just for tonight. I don't mind admitting I'm pretty tired from my flight." "Yeah. Jet lag's a bitch, I hear. Look, I gotta go get changed for work. You could...maybe take a nap if you want. You can even use my room after I go." "Are you sure?" "Yeah. It's okay." She stood. So did he. They looked at one another awkwardly for a moment. At last Buffy moved to the stairs. She stopped midway up and turned to him again. "Help yourself if you want some more tea or something. You know where everything is." Giles watched until she'd finished mounting the stairs and could no longer be seen. He moved to the kitchen. Another cup of tea would be soothing. ***** "Hey! Buffy! Pick up the pace!" Buffy looked up, startled. "I'm sorry, Lorraine. I - I was just...thinking." "Think about the customers, Buffy." "Sure. Right. 'Cause that's the Doublemeat way," Buffy smiled, hoping it would impress her boss. "That's the spirit. Why don't you take over the counter now?" "Great." Her smile faded when she saw who was at the front of the line. "Spike, what are you doing here?" she whispered angrily. "Got a break coming up, pet? I want to talk." "I told you it's over. We have nothing to talk about." "Because you say it's over? What about my feelings?" Buffy closed her eyes and willed herself not to hit the vampire. "I have a job to do. You're keeping me from doing it. Go away." She smiled as brightly as she could and craned her neck around Spike. "Next, please!" Spike glared at her. "This isn't over, Blondie." He swept out of the restaurant, taking several packets of condiments with him, just because. As soon as he was gone, Buffy let out a relieved sigh. When she looked up, Lorraine was there beside her. "You need to tell your boyfriend not to visit you at work. You have more important things to do right now." "He's not my - I mean, I'll tell him. Again. He's not very good at listening." "Or maybe you're not very good at understanding I mean this. No boyfriends at work." Lorraine returned to her office. Buffy counted to ten under her breath. She needed this job. She didn't dare lose it in a fit of anger. She pasted on another bright smile and turned back to the line waiting for service. "May I take your order, please?" ***** Despite the fatigue of a long flight and yet another knock on the head, Giles found he was too restless to take the nap Buffy had suggested. He wandered from room to room for a while seeing what had changed and what remained the way he remembered it. Some familiar items had disappeared, including several reminders of Joyce. Other things were new and spoke of the youthful tastes and limited budget of the current inhabitants. When he reached Buffy's bedroom door he laid his hand on it, but didn't open the door. True, she'd told him he could go in, but he didn't feel as if he had the right yet. Not until she had forgiven him. He turned and went downstairs. He'd been at loose ends before, and recently, but this was different. This was being in someone else's house, and it felt almost as if he was intruding simply by being there at all, let alone when none of the residents were about. Had it really been less than a year since he'd felt as though he belonged in this house as much as the people who actually lived here? Memories filled his head of spending time in these rooms with Buffy and Dawn and Joyce. Then Buffy and Dawn. And finally with Dawn and Willow and Tara. Then with Buffy again, but no longer comfortably. Their sense of camaraderie had died with her, and wasn't revived when she was. A sudden desire not to think combined with a habit of trying to be useful and occupied at all times made him decide to do a bit of cleaning while he waited for someone to return. Perhaps if Buffy came home to a sparkling house and a home cooked meal, she would be less inclined to be angry with him. *****
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