DISTRIBUTION: My site, LJ, still_grr, fanfiction.net, just email me if you are interested!

FEEDBACK: I welcome comments, but no flames!

SUMMARY: Repairing a (working) relationship isn’t easy.

NOTES:  Set during S3, after “Revelations”.  Written for the LJ community, still_grr, prompt 207, time (seconds/minutes).

CHARACTERS: Buffy, Giles (not B/G)

DISCLAIMER: The characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Productions, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox Television, the WB Television Network, and whoever else may have a hold on them. I do not mean to infringe upon any copyrights.

DATE: 2/3/11

Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty---

Giles shut his pocket watch and sighed.  Buffy was late.  Again.  It was the third time she had been late for training this week.  He hoped at least her excuse wouldn’t involve homework again.  It never was actually homework, these days.  Shaking his head, Giles placed his pocket watch and crossbow on the library table.  Hands in his pockets and head down, he walked back to his office.  To wait. 


“Oh crap!”  Buffy dropped her stake as she ran unevenly towards Sunnydale High.  What an irritating time to have a heel break, get caught off guard by a pair of vampires, and already be late for training with Giles.  Figures.

Buffy quickly checked her watch - she was twenty-eight minutes late now.  Giles must be...disappointed.  He never did get furious, even if that was what was really going on under the surface.  But so frequently anymore...he was disappointed.  In her.

After he discovered her betrayal (harboring a known murderer, no that wasn’t even it, it was her lack of respect), he had begun to distance himself from her.  A deliberate display of apathy.  Acting like it didn’t matter when she showed up late, no matter what the excuse.  Shrugging off her mentions of Angel like he didn’t even hear her.  But she knew.  What lay under the strict mask was a deep, deadly pool of disappointment.

With clouded thoughts, Buffy pushed open the door to the library.


Giles rose at the sound of the door opening.  He stared at the clock.  It ticked slowly, it seemed, twelve...thirteen...fourteen...the seconds increased as her mismatched footsteps drew closer.  Twenty-two, twenty-three...and she was in the doorway.  He didn’t have to turn his head to know.

“Good evening, Buffy.”

“Giles, I’m sorry I’m late - my shoe broke, and I had to fight these two vampires right outside that new designer clothing store, and no, I wasn’t shopping tonight I--”

Giles turned his chair to face her.  Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was mussed - at least she wasn’t lying about the fighting.  Giles never flinched a muscle.  He gestured behind her. 

“Don’t worry about it, Buffy.  Shall we begin with the crossbow?”

Buffy just sighed.  She forced a small smile and turned towards the weapons on the table. 

This disappointment would consume them.