Woof.

Nice, Deb. Very nice.

Okay, Deb. You inspired me to drabble.

Penance (BTVS S3, Giles/Angel)

He remembers every moment he was tortured by Angelus. Every scar, the ache in his fingers on rainy days, even the sunlight hitting his floor at just the right angle at just the right time of day – all reminders of an infinite sliver of time that Giles can never forget.

Then Angel returned from Hell. Angel, not Angelus, inhabiting the body that inflicted such torture. Searching for redemption, which finally brought him to Giles' doorstep one night.

It doesn't allow him to forget, not for an instant. Still, Giles enjoys every moment of penance he exacts as he's buried deep within Angel.

The Resurrection Gambit

Epilogue: The Sun Never Sets

London, 2023: Buffy wiped the soot of a night’s patrol in London off her brow, and put a kettle on the stove. She had trouble believing that she used to make fun of Giles for this. Now, she didn’t know how to get through a day without it. Funny, that.

“I’ve lived in London too long,” she thought. “Maybe it’s time to go back to America for awhile.”

She used words she never thought she’d use. Spent more time filling out paperwork than slaying vampires. When the mood struck her, she haunted museums and theatres. A few weeks ago, some of the younger girls dragged her out dancing, and acted like it should be some life-changing experience for her. She enjoyed herself more than she let on. Her life had gotten strange, she thought, but no stranger than spending an evening trying to talk a vampire out of jumping off a bridge.

It had all worked out OK once she convinced it that it probably wouldn’t die , anyway. Then, she got it to one of the halfway houses Giles had set up in Brixton.

She figured soon she should stop calling them, ‘it.’

It was nearly 5 a.m., so Giles would likely be up and working already. She put another tea cup on the tray, and ventured up to his office. He was negotiating on the phone with Wesley as to how much money they’d need to pull off this part of the stunt.

“Helping vampires readjust,” she thought, rolling her eyes as she placed the tray down on Giles’ desk. “Bloody Hell.”

As soon as she thought, she realized she’d definitely been in England too long. She smiled. Giles smiled his “thank you” smile, and then went back to bickering with Wesley over money. She knew it was mostly sport—between the council’s resources and Wolfram & Hart’s, money was never an issue. Still…

Spike had returned to Los Angeles with Wesley. He felt he had a lot to sort out. Willow was away, too—traveling with Xander and Dawn for awhile. They wanted to see up close what they’d done. She figured it would be awhile before she heard from them. If it was like any of Xander and Dawn’s other travels, she’d be getting scattered postcards from Katmandu and Nairobi.

Connor and Oz took charge of Darla and Drusilla. The monks weren’t particularly pleased with the situation, but it wasn’t the first time they’d taken in a thing that went bump in the night. From what she’d heard, Darla was adjusting…well. Not brilliantly, but well. At the very least, she was behaving herself. Connor seemed to be a moderating force on her. Drusilla? Drusilla was locked up. Nothing would help her, but Oz still sat with her almost every day. He seemed to think she wasn’t a lost cause. He’d just sit there, and listen while she ranted at him. This seemed to soothe her.

Angel also accompanied Connor home—wanted to spend some time with his son. He wasn’t sure what he’d do next. Not that any of them were, really.

There were battles left. Some of the vampires were increasingly violent, others, well, they were almost silly. Vi had found one crying at the National Gallery, in front of a Van Gogh exhibit, screaming, “What have I done with my life!”

There were battles still. Battles she wasn’t used to fighting. That none of them were used to fighting. But for now, the war was over.

My drabble entry: Leather Love

"Oh," Andrew flapped his hands. "Angel's like Gamera."

"Not following, sweetcheeks."

Andrew sighed. "Gamera, flying turtle?"

Lorne raised an eyebrow and waited.

Andrew recited the facts in a bored, sing-song voice. "Boys are kidnapped, taken to another planet, brains gonna be sucked out, Gamera rescues them." He rubbed the leather lovingly. "Get it? Angel? In Pylea?"

"Sure, babe." Lorne cocked his head. "Angel's back, put the coat down now."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"I…I've got a woody." Andrew whispered.

Lorne took the coat from Andrew's unresisting hands and led him toward the stairs. "Let me show you what to do with that."

Oh, Victor, that's wonderful.

Oh, Victor, that's wonderful.

Thanks, although I suspect I'm too much of a sucker for a more-or-less happy ending.

"Oh," Andrew flapped his hands. "Angel's like Gamera."

BWAHAHAHA!!! Lorne's making our little Andrew a man BWAAHAHA!!!

Thanks, although I suspect I'm too much of a sucker for a more-or-less happy ending.

Nonsense! Why the hell else do we have to put up with Hope having slithered out of Pandora's Box if not to have the occasionaly more-or-less happy ending?

Anyway, next post, more V!Giles.

Buffy didn't know she was asleep until she jerked awake. Dawn was curled up next to her in the corner farthest from the doorway, but Giles was nowhere to be seen. It seemed a little brighter, though the light had a weird pinky tone to it like Barbie's Dream House gone bad.

She got to her feet slowly, doing her best not to wake Dawn, then she walked silently to the doorway. The wind blew louder through the plants, and the temperature was a bit higher. Daytime? Dear god, did Anya say if the sunlight in this place was dangerous to vampires? Buffy hadn't thought to ask. Maybe Giles had miscalculated, maybe the wind that blew the weedy things around had swept his dust away, too.

She told herself the fear in her gut was because Giles was the only one who knew how to get them home. There was no sign of him outside; none of the dirt had the consistency of vampire dust, and she felt foolish for checking. She tried to control her anxious breathing as she listened, then she ran down the trail, to where she heard something disturb the gravel.

He was practicing sword katas, chopping and slicing at an invisible opponent, moving at vampire speed that made the sword edge whistle in the air. He still wore his human face, all his attention focused on the movements.

A knot built in Buffy's throat as she watched. He moved the way a young man would, the way he never had in the time she'd known him. Was he remembering the strength and skill of his youth, or merely enjoying the demonic abilities of his new form? She'd always wished there was a way she could make him stop hurting, take away the twinges and aches that made him move so stiffly on bad days. She'd used them against him, too, on selfish days when his middle-aged human endurance was no match for teenaged Slayer energy.

Watching him now, she realized that he still knew more weapons technique than she did. In hand-to-hand she thought she could take him, but only Slayer speed had ever helped her beat him when they were sword-to-sword. He pulled a combination gut-slash/decapitation so quickly the sword blurred, and he was back two steps from his position before the afterimage had faded from her eyes.

Note to self: If it all goes bad, do not let Giles get his hands on a sword.

He looked up and spotted her, and the remote, inhuman look went away. "Is something wrong?"

"Uh . . . no. I--just woke up and wondered where you'd gotten off to."

"I didn't want to wake you and I was feeling restless." He swung the sword up and into the sheath on his back without even checking.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly 2. Not much longer."

Buffy nodded absently. She kept trying to fall into the old habit of "aimless chatter with Giles", then her memories kicked her with "this isn't your Giles." She couldn't afford to forget the differences between Giles and Ripper. No matter how easy it would be. She glanced up at the sky, where the pink glow had gotten more pronounced. "So is the sun up?"

"I believe so. In any case, the light doesn't seem to be harmful to me, which was quite a relief." His smile was the old self-deprecating one, and she imagined him poking a finger cautiously out into the light to see what would happen.

"If we're staying here until after the sun comes up at home, what are you going to do when you go through the portal?"

Giles started to reach for his glasses again. "Run, I imagine. The mountains to the east of the convent are sufficiently close that there should be shade in the courtyard well after the time of dawn. That should give me time to find proper shelter. Spike says it's character building, to play tag with the sun."

"Yeah, like he's a good role model."

"Indeed."

"And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"The world is saved from Glory's portal, Dawn is safe. What do we do about Glory?"

Giles sighed. "I'm not sure, to be honest. The texts suggest that she is fighting a deadline of her own, that it is more than just homesickness and the desire for her full power that is driving her to open the portal. Being in our world weakens her, and it's possible that she will eventually be weakened far enough to be destroyed."

"How long will that take?"

"I have no idea."

Buffy started to pace. "Even with her weakened, she's still pretty darn indestructible. And she won't go quietly."

"No, she won't. But our first goal has always been the preservation of the world."

"No, our first goal has always been the preservation of Dawn."

He smiled very slightly. "Which is why both of us are here. We can worry about dealing with Glory once we know Dawn and the world are safe."

"And after that? Assuming we do bring down Glory?" She sat on a nearby rock and studied him. "We save the world, but I don't think it's going to be time to party."

The remote look was back on his face. "You'll have to do what you think best. A Vampire Slayer's duty is clear."

"You're telling me to come after you and Spike."

"Neither of us would be surprised if you did."

"And you two would just let me."

"We wouldn't be able to stop you making the attempt. But I would not count on your success being guaranteed."

He'd only ever lied to her when she asked him explicitly. She shouldn't be surprised that he could discuss a campaign against himself so matter-of-factly. He knew her and her sense of responsibility better than anyone. And fighting Angelus, who wore the form of the man she loved and surgically exploited all her weak spots, was not as frightening as the idea of going up against the mind that had trained her, that knew things she had only ever had glimpses of. Her trust in him had been her refuge, and she kept thinking, "Giles will know how to deal with this."

He relaxed slightly, let the aura of Ripper dissipate. "You ought to get more sleep. Surviving till d

He relaxed slightly, let the aura of Ripper dissipate. "You ought to get more sleep. Surviving till dawn is only part of what we have left to do." He started back up the trail towards the shelter where Dawn still slept. All Buffy wanted to do was to sit in the weird Barbie light and cry a few frightened, grieving tears, but she followed, instead.

Every scar, the ache in his fingers on rainy days, even the sunlight hitting his floor at just the right angle at just the right time of day

Oh, Steph. Dayum.

snerksnerksnerksnerksnerkGAMERA!ANGELsnerksnerksnerksnerksnerk

Buffy saying "bloody hell". Totally - wow. Damnit, Victor.

Connie, nice.