¤

July

¤

Willow had just reached the phone, which was on its third ring, when Buffy yelled from upstairs:

“If that’s Spike...”

“...you’re not here,” Willow filled in, picking up the receiver. “Oh, hi, Spike,” she smiled. “Yes, he is. Just a sec.”

Buffy peeked over the banister, watching her friend walk into the study, hearing her hand the phone to Giles.

“Close the door, will you?” Giles asked and Willow did so.

Buffy frowned.

“What’d he want?” she asked.

“To talk to Giles,” Willow replied and Buffy ignored the slight headshake which followed this statement.

¤

Giles came out an hour later, meeting Buffy as she came down the stairs and they walked together into the kitchen.

“Anything serious going on over there?” she asked, grabbing the tea kettle and a cup, bringing one for him as well as he sat on one of the stools, which stood under a long and thick shelf serving as kitchen table.

“No, they needed help with naming a demon,” he replied, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “You know, speaking to Spike I cannot help but be amazed.”

“At what a nuisance one specimen can actually be?”

“No, at what growth can come to a being as old as he already is,” he replied, replacing his glasses. Buffy’s slowed movements as she tried not to stare at him seemed to be something he didn’t pick up on at all. “I have come to this understanding over the passed few years so it has been a slow transition, I suppose, from the viewpoint I once held, but he is very changed. I know you agree.”

“I... I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I mean, I do, but...”

“Perhaps not all of him is different,” Giles mused out loud and she felt relieved that no more was expected as an answer from her. “But large parts of him. We actually held a rather serious conversation for over an hour just now, and there was not one moment I thought Angel could have done a better job, the way I did in the beginning of their little partnership.”

“I remember,” she smiled.

“The impatience has been dealt with,” Giles said. “He’s calmer now. More focused. It doesn’t have to happen the moment he wants it to happen, as long as the result is reached. He’s matured.”

Buffy arched an eyebrow.

“Matured?” she repeated.

Giles smiled.

“I think you know what I mean.”

“Maybe it’s not maturing,” she shrugged. “Maybe it’s finding a place in the world.”

Giles eyed her for a moment, and she took a long, deep sip from her cup in wait for his response.

“I apologized,” he finally said and she met his gaze, wonderingly. “For what I did, that last year in Sunnydale. I apologized. He said I was being stupid, that it’s long ago. He’s a good kind of man, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she said, putting the cup down. “Very good.” He smiled a little. “He... didn’t ask for me, did he?” she inquired.

“No,” Giles replied, finishing his tea and getting to his feet.

Buffy nodded, though he didn’t see it as he was already leaving, and she wasn’t exactly sure why she was doing it. Standing she proceeded into the living room, where Willow was sitting at a table covered with opened books. She was reading out of a heavy and old edition of spells and conjures, but as the Slayer entered the room she turned her head to her. Buffy smiled a small smile, sinking down on the window seat.

“You’ve no right to be disappointed, you know,” Willow said.

“What?”

“That he didn’t ask for you,” the Wicca replied, rising and coming to sit by her. “After five calls of hearing that you’re not here at the moment...? Can you blame him?”

Buffy glanced at her, then fastened her gaze on something outside the window.

“No,” she admitted. “I can’t blame him.”

And I’m an incurable moron, she thought. Doomed to repeat my mistakes. Over. And over. And over. And over.