Giles lifted his eyes as the library doors swung open and looked back
down again when he saw who it was. “I thought youâd gone home.”
“Got half-way and came back.”
“And why is that?”
He made his voice hard, inflexible, not allowing even a hint of mercy
to soften its harshness. Xander stopped, the distance between them
daunting, and then swallowed audibly and came closer. Giles gave him
credit for having that much courage and rewarded him by finally
glancing at him. He watched as Xander shrank a little and wondered just
how forbidding he looked to him.
“I couldnât - Giles, Iâm going to have to spend tomorrow grovelling to
just about everyone I know. Iâm prepared for that. I give good grovel.
Willow, Buffy, Cordy, Oz; the list is -”
“A long one, yes. I think youâll find that most of the students will
have forgotten, or be unwilling to listen. If I were you, Iâd
confine your apologies to those most affected. Your friends. The ones
you had dancing to your tune today.”
“Giles, thatâs not fair! I didnât mean -”
Giles slammed his hand down on the table beside him, the flat slap
echoing in the silent room. “Xander, you planned to make Cordelia
hopelessly, desperately in love with you so that you could reject her,
so that you could hurt her. That was despicable. You blackmailed Amy
into doing a spell that was far too powerful for her to attempt and may
have consequences for her that neither of us can predict. You had two
girls who care about you - oh, whatâs the use? You know what you did.”
“I fucked up.”
Giles smiled; a humourless twitch of his lips that didnât lift the
tension in the room at all. “Indeed you did. Am I to assume youâre here
to begin your apologies with me?”
Xanderâs eyes fell. “Not as such.”
Giles felt his temper rise. “Endangering my Slayer and enchanting my
girl- Miss Calendar, that is -”
Xanderâs head jerked up. “Did that. Yes. They get apologies, no
arguments there. But none of thatâs something youâre owed one for.”
“I am responsible for Buffy -”
“Giles, Iâm not going to apologise to you for something I did to them.”
Giles felt his hand curl into a fist and deliberately straightened his
fingers, placing his hand on the table again. “Then why are
you here?”
Xander moved closer still. “Because you were angry with me. Because all
I can see is the look on your face when you told me to get out.”
Just go, get out of my sight
Giles sighed, remembering the stunned hurt his words had put on
Xanderâs face. “I was angry with you. People say things they donât mean
when - Good Lord, Xander, you know that! What usually happens when you
mess things up?”
Xander smiled crookedly. “Nice to see you assume it happens a lot.
Letâs see; you mean my parents, I guess? Nothing. If itâs really bad,
Dad screams, Mom cries, but usually? Nothing. They donât care, you see.
Donât care if I do bad, donât notice if I do good. Itâs a big old
bundle of not giving a shit.”
Giles wondered which hurt the most from a parent; indifference or
violence? Not a question heâd ever had to answer, but he remembered
another young man twisted by neglect, and he was damned if heâd sit by
as Xander followed in Ethanâs footsteps. He might not have Ethanâs
talent for magic but he had traces of his tendency to self-destruct.
“What about you?”
Xanderâs question jolted Giles out of his reverie. “I beg your pardon?”
“Youâve done it too, right? Fuck - I mean, messed up?”
Impossible to lie when the memories were vivid enough at that moment to
make him wince. “Oh, yes.”
“So what happened to you afterwards?”
Giles relaxed a little and sat on the edge of the table, reaching for
his glasses in a gesture he knew he made too often.
“When I was younger than you, when I was at school, Iâd have ended up
in the headmasterâs room, gripping the back of a chair and counting to
a hundred in Latin to try and take my mind off things.”
“And can I just say, ‘owwâ at this point.”
Giles smiled at him, reflecting on the difference a few decades made in
social attitudes. “Quite. At home... well, my father wouldnât have
struck me, especially not when I was as old as you. Lectured me for
what felt like hours, possibly, which was worse, because after heâd
made me feel silly and childish, heâd move on to my duty as a Watcher,
family tradition, responsibilities... all concepts I was conditioned to
believe were paramount.”
Xander frowned. “You donât think they are?”
Giles shrugged. “Of course. I just had to find that out for myself and
eventually I did. Never mind that now.”
He got off the table and began to stack the books heâd been reading.
“So do you think either of those would work on me?”
“Hmm?”
“Giles... Iâm still not... I still feel bad. Really bad. Youâre the
only
grown up whoâs ever bothered with me and now I donât know if you
still want to bother after what I did.”
Giles hesitated for a long moment, seeing the misery gather like clouds
on Xanderâs expressive face. “Talking to you is pointless; you know
what you did and why it was wrong. As for the other, well, I doubt
thereâs a
cane in the entire school and it wouldnât be an appropriate punishment
for you.” Xander looked at him questioningly and Giles smiled.
“Children of five used to work in the mills and mines; now theyâre
finger painting and digging in sand boxes. I expected physical pain and
a rather intense humiliation to be the closing act of any particularly
imaginative mischief; you donât. It would be overly cruel. If you want
a penance -”
“Think I do.”
“You can keep on wanting.”
“Giles!”
Giles studied him. “You want me to inflict something on you, something
unpleasant, so that you can feel youâve wiped out your transgression.”
Xander worked this out. “Yes...” he said cautiously. “Especially now
weâve decided it wonât get painful.”
Giles gave him a cheerful grin. “Sorry. Iâm still far too angry to
assist in lifting you out of the Slough of Despond.”
“The what? Giles, youâre -”
“Teasing you,” Giles said, taking pity on him.
“Right. I knew that.” Xander coughed and smoothed back his hair. “So,
weâre good then?”
“Indeed. I feel a real warmth returning. So much so that Iâve thought
of something you can do.”
“Uh, you have?”
Giles waved a hand at the main desk. “The events of today meant I never
got chance to finish cataloguing the new books. I find shelving them to
be tiresome -”
“God, yes,” Xander agreed fervently. His eyes narrowed. “No, wait; I
can see where this is going...”
Giles smiled at him. “Smart lad.”
He patted Xanderâs shoulder and for a moment their eyes met and held.
“I still want to be bothered, Xander.”
He hadnât expected the sudden hug, but he returned it anyway, just for
a moment, feeling the weight of another responsibility settle on him
but not finding it more than he could bear.
“At this point in the proceedings, my headmaster would walk away and
give us some uh, alone time,” Giles said, edging towards the door and
hearing the siren call of a strong drink, a hot bath and a good nightâs
sleep- though he knew nightmares about having to tell Travers his
Slayer had been eaten by a cat would haunt his dreams for weeks.
Xander looked curious. “Why?”
“Opinions varied on his motives,” Giles said cautiously, a dozen
scurrilous rhymes surfacing from the depths of his memory, “but I think
he meant well.”
“I donât need alone time,” Xander said. “I need help.” He waved a hand
at the neat stacks of books, looking pitiful and lost and making a
fairly good job of it.
“What happened to this being your penance?” Giles said.
“Itâll only make more work for you,” Xander said. “You know I never got
the hang of how you file them.”
“Alphabetically within subjects?”
“The alphabet I can do; listen -”
Giles raised his hand in a warning. “Not the song, Xander. You know I
canât abide hearing you finish with ‘zeeâ.”
Xander did something with his mouth that deserved to have a label
reading ‘poutâ attached to his full lower lip. “Canât do it then.”
Giles glared at him, marched over and stabbed a finger into his chest.
“You are a manipulative, cheeky, infuriating brat, Xander.”
Xanderâs smile slipped and he looked at Giles. “I know. Itâs all I
have.”
Giles looked at him. “Itâs really not, you know.” He sighed. “You give
yourself too little credit, Xander, and you donât get given enough
either. Iâm not sure I ever thanked you properly for saving my Slayerâs
life for instance.”
Xander glanced away, shrugging his wide shoulders uncomfortably. “That
was ...”
“Enough to cancel out turning her into a rat. Off you go, Xander. Never
mind the filing.”
Xander smiled at him gratefully and walked to the door. He paused and
said, without looking back, “Iâm free second period, Giles. Iâll swing
by and give you a hand.”
Giles had had time to reconsider his choice of task. Xander hadnât been
lying about the chaos he could cause; maybe he had more in common with
Ethan than Giles had realised. “Really, no need,” he called
after Xander. “Really...”
“See you tomorrow!”
Giles took a moment to breathe deeply and then turned to the books.
There was only one way to stop Xander.
It took him until midnight to finish the filing but it was worth it.
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