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tamingthemuseTitle: Shopping!
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 414 - Capsize
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Giles is sixty but his aunts can only see the twelve year old he appears to be.
Note: In the comics Giles is killed and then brought back in the body of his twelve year old self. This plays with that idea but is AU.
Note: This is sequelish to a story I’m writing for Summer of Giles which will be posted on the 29th.
Note: I haven’t read the comics so I’m completely winging the aunts.
Giles, standing in Faith and Angel’s flat as Faith, ignoring him stared, out the window, felt as if he were poised between the past and the future. The week at his mother’s home had quite a bit to do with that. Resting there, helping Mum weed the garden, rediscovering the simple pleasure of a cup of hot cocoa, these had all restored an equilibrium he hadn’t realized he’d lost. He was going to need it. Buffy didn’t know he was alive. Buffy didn’t know he was twelve.
He had suggested to Faith that Buffy be warned. “We should call her.”
“Hell no,” Faith had said. “I get to see her face when she finds out you’re alive. That was our deal.”
“That was not, exactly, our deal.”
“Yeah, well, it’s part of the deal now.”
And so here he was. Waiting. Faith had, for some unexplained reason, arranged a three day delay in London. Perhaps she was still upset about what had happened both in the car and, a couple of times, at home. The way she dashed around corners and appeared out of nowhere, it wasn’t his fault he ended up staring at her breasts. They were rather at, um, face level. He knew his argument was specious but still couldn’t help thinking it. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to mention it to Faith. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Good Lord. Twelve. How was he going to get through this?
Faith looked up with a grin. Oh dear. “Ready?”
“Ready for what exactly?”
His two aunts, Vin and Sophie, walked in the door.
“You could have, like, knocked or rung the bell,” Faith said.
“Why bother,” Vin replied. “You knew we were here.”
“What is this?” Rupert asked.
“Rupes.” Sophie turned on him with a grin which melted into a moue of disgust as she took in his t-shirt and blue jeans. “Good Gods, what are you wearing?”
“I knew we should have taken him shopping before sending him off to his mother’s.”
“You didn’t send me anywhere,” Rupert said. “I decided, on my own, as the adult I am, to go home.” He might as well not have spoken at all.
“We have three days to make you presentable.” Vin grimaced. “And I think it’s going to take all our time.”
“I am not agreeing to this.”
“Come along, Rupes, we’re wasting time.” Sophie grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.
“Faith!” She just grinned back at him, damn her.
Sophie’s sports car was parked in the street. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Mayfair-ish.”
He knew better than to suggest taking the Underground to his aunts. “Parking won’t be easy.”
“Don’t be silly, Rupert. The hotel will park for us.”
Ah, yes. They had some sort of arrangement with concierges all over the city and could just drive up to hotels and leave the car. With the top down and from the back seat, Rupert, left out of their conversation, sat and fumed.
Once they’d dropped the car and were walking, he laid into them. “I’ll have you know I haven’t forgiven you. You’ve turned my entire world upside down. I’ve been tossed over topsy-turvy, capsized, thrown overboard and left to drown.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Rupes. It doesn’t suit you. Besides, we saved you.” Sophie, stopping to use a shop window as a mirror, brushed a few curls back from her face.
Vin was obviously pleased with what she saw of herself. “A well-raised nephew would be thanking us. We brought you back to life.”
“As a bloody twelve year old,” Rupert shouted.
“Rupert Edmund Giles. You watch your mouth.”
“If your mother could hear you now, she’d wash your mouth out with soap.”
“Mother understands that I’m sixty.”
“Of course she does, darling.” Sophie leaned down as if to pinch his cheeks.
Rupert blocked her with a raised arm. “Leave off.”
The two sisters rolled their eyes.
“I’m in the body of a twelve year old child. Do you understand what that means? I can’t drive. I can’t vote. Hell, I can’t even walk into a pub for a decent draft. Good Lord.” He stopped walking. They continued on for a good store-and-a-half before they noticed he wasn’t keeping up.
“What is it now?”
“Growth spurts,” he said.
He must have looked as lost as he felt for they each leaned over next to him. “Rupes, I’m afraid we don’t understand. I thought wanted to be older.”
“Of course but my arms and legs, after a growth spurt, will be longer than I’m used to. It’ll make me clumsy. How am I to fight demons if I’m tripping over myself?”
They stood as one. “Oh, Rupes, we thought you were upset over something important.”
“Honestly, you’re going to stay with us. You’ve given the Council one life. That’s more than enough.”
“My Slayer is still alive …”
“But you died,” Vin interrupted. “That breaks the bond, surely.”
“I’m still bound to you two.” It came out sterner sounding than he’d planned.
Vin sniffed. “We’re blood. That’s different.”
“Ah, here we are,” Sophie said, waving Rupert’s words away.
Through the window Rupert saw men’s suits. He looked down at his jeans. He’d have to be careful or they’d be disappeared during the shopping trip. “You already bought me three suits.” He knew it wouldn’t work but he had to try.
“Those were off the rack, a good rack, but still. You are not returning to those ghastly tweeds. We are installing a fashion sense in you this time around.”
Rupert thought that he should have stayed at Mother’s until these two had died of old age. It would only have taken eighty or so years. “It’s a men’s shop. I’m twelve.”
Sophie opened the door and Vin pushed him in. “We know the owner.”
Of course they did.
“Pierre.” They shrieked out the name together.
“Darlings, it’s been far too long.”
“Kiss, kiss.”
“So, this is the young man?” Pierre looked him up and down. “Oh yes. Emergency. He is in dreadful need of assistance.” Rupert imagined what Pierre would look like after a Fyarl had pummeled him into a paste.
“Don’t we know. He’s got an appointment with our hairstylist this afternoon.”
“And after that we’re getting his nails done.”
“What?” Damn his high-pitched voice. “We most certainly are not.”
Sophie leaned down to give him a hug. “Isn’t he just adorable?”
“He thinks he has a say.”
Rupert sighed. Being twelve was going to be worse, much worse, than he’d thought. He could only hope that Buffy would be more mature about it than his aunts.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: 414 - Capsize
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Giles is sixty but his aunts can only see the twelve year old he appears to be.
Note: In the comics Giles is killed and then brought back in the body of his twelve year old self. This plays with that idea but is AU.
Note: This is sequelish to a story I’m writing for Summer of Giles which will be posted on the 29th.
Note: I haven’t read the comics so I’m completely winging the aunts.
Giles, standing in Faith and Angel’s flat as Faith, ignoring him stared, out the window, felt as if he were poised between the past and the future. The week at his mother’s home had quite a bit to do with that. Resting there, helping Mum weed the garden, rediscovering the simple pleasure of a cup of hot cocoa, these had all restored an equilibrium he hadn’t realized he’d lost. He was going to need it. Buffy didn’t know he was alive. Buffy didn’t know he was twelve.
He had suggested to Faith that Buffy be warned. “We should call her.”
“Hell no,” Faith had said. “I get to see her face when she finds out you’re alive. That was our deal.”
“That was not, exactly, our deal.”
“Yeah, well, it’s part of the deal now.”
And so here he was. Waiting. Faith had, for some unexplained reason, arranged a three day delay in London. Perhaps she was still upset about what had happened both in the car and, a couple of times, at home. The way she dashed around corners and appeared out of nowhere, it wasn’t his fault he ended up staring at her breasts. They were rather at, um, face level. He knew his argument was specious but still couldn’t help thinking it. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to mention it to Faith. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Good Lord. Twelve. How was he going to get through this?
Faith looked up with a grin. Oh dear. “Ready?”
“Ready for what exactly?”
His two aunts, Vin and Sophie, walked in the door.
“You could have, like, knocked or rung the bell,” Faith said.
“Why bother,” Vin replied. “You knew we were here.”
“What is this?” Rupert asked.
“Rupes.” Sophie turned on him with a grin which melted into a moue of disgust as she took in his t-shirt and blue jeans. “Good Gods, what are you wearing?”
“I knew we should have taken him shopping before sending him off to his mother’s.”
“You didn’t send me anywhere,” Rupert said. “I decided, on my own, as the adult I am, to go home.” He might as well not have spoken at all.
“We have three days to make you presentable.” Vin grimaced. “And I think it’s going to take all our time.”
“I am not agreeing to this.”
“Come along, Rupes, we’re wasting time.” Sophie grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.
“Faith!” She just grinned back at him, damn her.
Sophie’s sports car was parked in the street. “Where are we going?” he asked.
“Mayfair-ish.”
He knew better than to suggest taking the Underground to his aunts. “Parking won’t be easy.”
“Don’t be silly, Rupert. The hotel will park for us.”
Ah, yes. They had some sort of arrangement with concierges all over the city and could just drive up to hotels and leave the car. With the top down and from the back seat, Rupert, left out of their conversation, sat and fumed.
Once they’d dropped the car and were walking, he laid into them. “I’ll have you know I haven’t forgiven you. You’ve turned my entire world upside down. I’ve been tossed over topsy-turvy, capsized, thrown overboard and left to drown.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Rupes. It doesn’t suit you. Besides, we saved you.” Sophie, stopping to use a shop window as a mirror, brushed a few curls back from her face.
Vin was obviously pleased with what she saw of herself. “A well-raised nephew would be thanking us. We brought you back to life.”
“As a bloody twelve year old,” Rupert shouted.
“Rupert Edmund Giles. You watch your mouth.”
“If your mother could hear you now, she’d wash your mouth out with soap.”
“Mother understands that I’m sixty.”
“Of course she does, darling.” Sophie leaned down as if to pinch his cheeks.
Rupert blocked her with a raised arm. “Leave off.”
The two sisters rolled their eyes.
“I’m in the body of a twelve year old child. Do you understand what that means? I can’t drive. I can’t vote. Hell, I can’t even walk into a pub for a decent draft. Good Lord.” He stopped walking. They continued on for a good store-and-a-half before they noticed he wasn’t keeping up.
“What is it now?”
“Growth spurts,” he said.
He must have looked as lost as he felt for they each leaned over next to him. “Rupes, I’m afraid we don’t understand. I thought wanted to be older.”
“Of course but my arms and legs, after a growth spurt, will be longer than I’m used to. It’ll make me clumsy. How am I to fight demons if I’m tripping over myself?”
They stood as one. “Oh, Rupes, we thought you were upset over something important.”
“Honestly, you’re going to stay with us. You’ve given the Council one life. That’s more than enough.”
“My Slayer is still alive …”
“But you died,” Vin interrupted. “That breaks the bond, surely.”
“I’m still bound to you two.” It came out sterner sounding than he’d planned.
Vin sniffed. “We’re blood. That’s different.”
“Ah, here we are,” Sophie said, waving Rupert’s words away.
Through the window Rupert saw men’s suits. He looked down at his jeans. He’d have to be careful or they’d be disappeared during the shopping trip. “You already bought me three suits.” He knew it wouldn’t work but he had to try.
“Those were off the rack, a good rack, but still. You are not returning to those ghastly tweeds. We are installing a fashion sense in you this time around.”
Rupert thought that he should have stayed at Mother’s until these two had died of old age. It would only have taken eighty or so years. “It’s a men’s shop. I’m twelve.”
Sophie opened the door and Vin pushed him in. “We know the owner.”
Of course they did.
“Pierre.” They shrieked out the name together.
“Darlings, it’s been far too long.”
“Kiss, kiss.”
“So, this is the young man?” Pierre looked him up and down. “Oh yes. Emergency. He is in dreadful need of assistance.” Rupert imagined what Pierre would look like after a Fyarl had pummeled him into a paste.
“Don’t we know. He’s got an appointment with our hairstylist this afternoon.”
“And after that we’re getting his nails done.”
“What?” Damn his high-pitched voice. “We most certainly are not.”
Sophie leaned down to give him a hug. “Isn’t he just adorable?”
“He thinks he has a say.”
Rupert sighed. Being twelve was going to be worse, much worse, than he’d thought. He could only hope that Buffy would be more mature about it than his aunts.
