meredevachon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
meredevachon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tamingthemuse2008-04-18 04:50 am
meredevachon) wrote in tamingthemuse2008-04-18 04:50 am
Entry tags:
91 - rusting - Stateside - meredevachon - BtVS/SPN
Title: Stateside
Author: meredevachon
Fandom: Buffy/Supernatural crossover
Characters: Giles, Bobby
Prompt #91: Rusting
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1590
Spoilers/Warnings: Set shortly before BtVS 1.01, but no specific spoilers.
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and their characters and situations do not belong to me. This is all in fun and for love of the characters.
A/N: Sequel to The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship
Summary: Giles is being sent to California to watch over the Slayer. Luckily for him, he has a friend in the States already.
~*~*~
It was customary, when a Watcher was killed in the line of duty, for the Council to assign another based on a complicated mix of seniority, experience – those two didn't always go together, as the Council was well aware – temperament, and geography. The selection process was even more rigorous when the Watcher in question was the one assigned to the current Slayer. That's why it came as such a surprise that before his death, Merrick had had the foresight to name a successor in guiding and training Buffy Summers should he be unable to continue in the role.
In fact, his insistence, both by telephone and in writing, that Rupert Giles was the only person for the job was not favorably received by the majority of the Council. Of course, Giles had known none of this, not until much later, when he had finished packing his own belongings and was deep in the Watcher Library trying to decide which ancient tomes and collections of mystical lore were indispensible and which could be done without. It was Robson found him and filled him in on all the details… well, the rumored details. The news did nothing to ease the apprehension Giles was already feeling at the thought of moving not only to the States, but to California of all places or of taking 'possession' of a Slayer of his own, one who by all accounts could be difficult.
Still, it was the job he'd been trained for his entire life. There were those who'd argue it was the job he was born for. But Giles was beginning to get the feeling nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to face. Is it no wonder he wanted to take his time getting to Sunnydale? His books and belongings were being sent separately, and as it had been years since he'd been to the States, Giles decided he was justified in taking a more indirect path across the country.
~*~*~
An evening of conversation and almost two decades of written correspondence made for an interesting friendship, but Giles still wasn't sure what to expect when his trip from New York to California included a stop in South Dakota. Bobby had said he'd be glad of a chance to see him, that he had a couple of things Giles might want to take a look at – books, of course, probably ones Giles would strongly consider giving his left arm for. That wasn't the only reason Giles wanted to visit, though. Bobby'd always seemed the sensible sort, and as he prepared to walk into the lion's den as it were, Giles could appreciate having someone, someone not a Watcher, with whom to talk over his concerns.
Bobby's directions had been quite specific, and Giles turned under the Singer Auto Salvage sign and followed the dirt road up to the house. On both sides of the road and as far ahead as he could see were rows of rusting, busted, old cars, piled two, three, even four high in some places. Through the open car window, he could hear a dog barking. Rounding a curve, he was finally able to see the house: two stories, peeling paint, and several of what would seem to most people to be outlandish decorations but to Giles were talismans and wards hanging from or near various thresholds.
Bobby stood in the doorway, drawn no doubt by the dog's racket, and watched as Giles got out of the car, stretching his legs carefully as he stood. Bobby had gotten old. Well… older. They both had, but Giles hadn't seen Bobby since the night of the auction where they had met, and a lot of time had passed since.
"Hush up, you!" Bobby stomped his foot on the top step, and the dog stopped barking. "Giles," he added, nodding.
"Hello, Bobby."
"You're not waiting for an invitation, are you? 'Cause you'll be standing there an awful long time if you are."
And like that, the awkwardness Giles had been feeling, the sense of being an imposition had gone. He went up the front steps, past Bobby, and on into the house. Bobby followed, shutting the door behind himself, then stepped around Giles and across the room.
"Just leave your bag near the door somewhere. There's something I want to show you first."
Books were stacked this way and that on every flat surface, and Giles wondered how Bobby ever managed to find what he was looking for. Then Bobby called him from the next room, and Giles hurried to catch up. Bobby picked a book off the top of one of the many stacks that filled this room as well, and handed it to Giles with a smirk. Liber Juratus. A second book followed the first. Igthelion. The same copy of the Igthelion Giles had rightfully won in the auction and a different printing of the book Bobby had traded to get it from him. Something was up.
Literally up, Giles saw, following Bobby's gaze to the ceiling. A devil's trap. Made sense. Bobby had gotten more careful as he'd gotten older, and if the first test had been made in deference to Giles' area of expertise, this was to Bobby's.
"I believe the light might be better in the other room. Do you mind if I take a closer look at these in there?" Giles didn't wait for an answer, walking back into the front room to the sound of Bobby's soft chuckle. "Now that that's out of the way… how are you, Bobby?"
"Not too bad. Not heading out to California to wrangle some girl too young to know what's best for her anyway, so I can't complain. How 'bout you?"
"Rather… overwhelmed, I believe. If even half the things I've heard are true…"
Bobby settled himself on a well-worn chair and waved Giles onto the settee. "Well, long as you're here, might as well tell me about it. Maybe we can figure something out that might do you some good. Leastways when it comes to demons and such. I can't help you much with teenage girls. You're on your own with that."
If only Giles knew where to begin.
~*~*~
They stayed up most of the night talking and looking through Bobby's library. Bobby had a near perfect memory what books he had – not shocking – and where they were amidst all the stacks and piles scattered throughout the house – quite impressive. It was almost dawn before they went to bed, and when the phone rang around eight a.m., it seemed far too early.
Giles could hear Bobby swearing over his end of the line, and while he didn't intend to eavesdrop, as Bobby's voice got louder and louder, it was impossible not to hear. Something was wrong, obviously, and Giles felt it best he find his clothes and dress. If it was something he could help with, best not done in his pajamas, and if not, Bobby probably didn't need a houseguest getting in the way.
A pot of coffee was brewing by the time Giles made his way to the kitchen, and Bobby must have put the kettle on when he heard Giles moving around upstairs, as it began to squeal before Giles had even reached the table. Breakfast was toast and eggs, but really it was Bobby's coffee and Giles' tea that they focused on.
"Sorry about waking you up so early. Well… not early exactly. Still, it's not right waking a guest before he's gotten a full night's sleep."
There was something about the way Bobby spoke that made Giles think there was more coming. Something else Bobby thought wasn't right, but that he felt he had to do regardless.
"Not at all. I suppose I'll have to become used to irregular hours. Today was merely practice. I do hope it wasn't bad news, though." Giles hoped that would give Bobby an opening for whatever it was he still had to say.
"Well…," Bobby paused, scraping over his stubble with one palm. "It wasn't what you could call good news. A friend… I suppose you could call that stubborn sonuva a friend, he got himself in some trouble, and he and his boys are on their way out here to hole up for a few days."
It wasn't difficult to see where the conversation was headed, and Giles could see Bobby was torn over what to do. So he thought to make it easier on them both. "It seems as though you're about to be overrun, and as I still have a long journey ahead of me, I should finish packing. Won't take me long to get my things together."
Bobby shook his head sadly. "I'd say you don't have to go… and it's true, you don't. But things would probably go smoother if… Let's just say John isn't always the easiest man to get along with, even when he knows you. And you're going to have your fill of teenage boys – and girls – soon enough. No need to put up with 'em just yet. But that don't mean you have to stay away. There's no ocean in the way now… Just a whole hell of a lot of highway."
An hour later, with good-byes said and promises to ring made, Giles was pulling onto the motorway when a black, classic car – thirty years old or thereabout, if Giles wasn't mistaken – roared past him, fishtailing as it made the turn onto Bobby's property.
Giles had a feeling he'd left just in time.
*fin*
Author: meredevachon
Fandom: Buffy/Supernatural crossover
Characters: Giles, Bobby
Prompt #91: Rusting
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1590
Spoilers/Warnings: Set shortly before BtVS 1.01, but no specific spoilers.
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and their characters and situations do not belong to me. This is all in fun and for love of the characters.
A/N: Sequel to The Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship
Summary: Giles is being sent to California to watch over the Slayer. Luckily for him, he has a friend in the States already.
It was customary, when a Watcher was killed in the line of duty, for the Council to assign another based on a complicated mix of seniority, experience – those two didn't always go together, as the Council was well aware – temperament, and geography. The selection process was even more rigorous when the Watcher in question was the one assigned to the current Slayer. That's why it came as such a surprise that before his death, Merrick had had the foresight to name a successor in guiding and training Buffy Summers should he be unable to continue in the role.
In fact, his insistence, both by telephone and in writing, that Rupert Giles was the only person for the job was not favorably received by the majority of the Council. Of course, Giles had known none of this, not until much later, when he had finished packing his own belongings and was deep in the Watcher Library trying to decide which ancient tomes and collections of mystical lore were indispensible and which could be done without. It was Robson found him and filled him in on all the details… well, the rumored details. The news did nothing to ease the apprehension Giles was already feeling at the thought of moving not only to the States, but to California of all places or of taking 'possession' of a Slayer of his own, one who by all accounts could be difficult.
Still, it was the job he'd been trained for his entire life. There were those who'd argue it was the job he was born for. But Giles was beginning to get the feeling nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to face. Is it no wonder he wanted to take his time getting to Sunnydale? His books and belongings were being sent separately, and as it had been years since he'd been to the States, Giles decided he was justified in taking a more indirect path across the country.
An evening of conversation and almost two decades of written correspondence made for an interesting friendship, but Giles still wasn't sure what to expect when his trip from New York to California included a stop in South Dakota. Bobby had said he'd be glad of a chance to see him, that he had a couple of things Giles might want to take a look at – books, of course, probably ones Giles would strongly consider giving his left arm for. That wasn't the only reason Giles wanted to visit, though. Bobby'd always seemed the sensible sort, and as he prepared to walk into the lion's den as it were, Giles could appreciate having someone, someone not a Watcher, with whom to talk over his concerns.
Bobby's directions had been quite specific, and Giles turned under the Singer Auto Salvage sign and followed the dirt road up to the house. On both sides of the road and as far ahead as he could see were rows of rusting, busted, old cars, piled two, three, even four high in some places. Through the open car window, he could hear a dog barking. Rounding a curve, he was finally able to see the house: two stories, peeling paint, and several of what would seem to most people to be outlandish decorations but to Giles were talismans and wards hanging from or near various thresholds.
Bobby stood in the doorway, drawn no doubt by the dog's racket, and watched as Giles got out of the car, stretching his legs carefully as he stood. Bobby had gotten old. Well… older. They both had, but Giles hadn't seen Bobby since the night of the auction where they had met, and a lot of time had passed since.
"Hush up, you!" Bobby stomped his foot on the top step, and the dog stopped barking. "Giles," he added, nodding.
"Hello, Bobby."
"You're not waiting for an invitation, are you? 'Cause you'll be standing there an awful long time if you are."
And like that, the awkwardness Giles had been feeling, the sense of being an imposition had gone. He went up the front steps, past Bobby, and on into the house. Bobby followed, shutting the door behind himself, then stepped around Giles and across the room.
"Just leave your bag near the door somewhere. There's something I want to show you first."
Books were stacked this way and that on every flat surface, and Giles wondered how Bobby ever managed to find what he was looking for. Then Bobby called him from the next room, and Giles hurried to catch up. Bobby picked a book off the top of one of the many stacks that filled this room as well, and handed it to Giles with a smirk. Liber Juratus. A second book followed the first. Igthelion. The same copy of the Igthelion Giles had rightfully won in the auction and a different printing of the book Bobby had traded to get it from him. Something was up.
Literally up, Giles saw, following Bobby's gaze to the ceiling. A devil's trap. Made sense. Bobby had gotten more careful as he'd gotten older, and if the first test had been made in deference to Giles' area of expertise, this was to Bobby's.
"I believe the light might be better in the other room. Do you mind if I take a closer look at these in there?" Giles didn't wait for an answer, walking back into the front room to the sound of Bobby's soft chuckle. "Now that that's out of the way… how are you, Bobby?"
"Not too bad. Not heading out to California to wrangle some girl too young to know what's best for her anyway, so I can't complain. How 'bout you?"
"Rather… overwhelmed, I believe. If even half the things I've heard are true…"
Bobby settled himself on a well-worn chair and waved Giles onto the settee. "Well, long as you're here, might as well tell me about it. Maybe we can figure something out that might do you some good. Leastways when it comes to demons and such. I can't help you much with teenage girls. You're on your own with that."
If only Giles knew where to begin.
They stayed up most of the night talking and looking through Bobby's library. Bobby had a near perfect memory what books he had – not shocking – and where they were amidst all the stacks and piles scattered throughout the house – quite impressive. It was almost dawn before they went to bed, and when the phone rang around eight a.m., it seemed far too early.
Giles could hear Bobby swearing over his end of the line, and while he didn't intend to eavesdrop, as Bobby's voice got louder and louder, it was impossible not to hear. Something was wrong, obviously, and Giles felt it best he find his clothes and dress. If it was something he could help with, best not done in his pajamas, and if not, Bobby probably didn't need a houseguest getting in the way.
A pot of coffee was brewing by the time Giles made his way to the kitchen, and Bobby must have put the kettle on when he heard Giles moving around upstairs, as it began to squeal before Giles had even reached the table. Breakfast was toast and eggs, but really it was Bobby's coffee and Giles' tea that they focused on.
"Sorry about waking you up so early. Well… not early exactly. Still, it's not right waking a guest before he's gotten a full night's sleep."
There was something about the way Bobby spoke that made Giles think there was more coming. Something else Bobby thought wasn't right, but that he felt he had to do regardless.
"Not at all. I suppose I'll have to become used to irregular hours. Today was merely practice. I do hope it wasn't bad news, though." Giles hoped that would give Bobby an opening for whatever it was he still had to say.
"Well…," Bobby paused, scraping over his stubble with one palm. "It wasn't what you could call good news. A friend… I suppose you could call that stubborn sonuva a friend, he got himself in some trouble, and he and his boys are on their way out here to hole up for a few days."
It wasn't difficult to see where the conversation was headed, and Giles could see Bobby was torn over what to do. So he thought to make it easier on them both. "It seems as though you're about to be overrun, and as I still have a long journey ahead of me, I should finish packing. Won't take me long to get my things together."
Bobby shook his head sadly. "I'd say you don't have to go… and it's true, you don't. But things would probably go smoother if… Let's just say John isn't always the easiest man to get along with, even when he knows you. And you're going to have your fill of teenage boys – and girls – soon enough. No need to put up with 'em just yet. But that don't mean you have to stay away. There's no ocean in the way now… Just a whole hell of a lot of highway."
An hour later, with good-byes said and promises to ring made, Giles was pulling onto the motorway when a black, classic car – thirty years old or thereabout, if Giles wasn't mistaken – roared past him, fishtailing as it made the turn onto Bobby's property.
Giles had a feeling he'd left just in time.
no subject
I loved the connection between Bobby and Giles...you rock. Like out loud rock. \m/
Loved it, darling!
~Nebula
no subject
no subject
Hope you're having a great weekend, hon.
no subject
So I'm happy the final result wasn't horrible.
no subject
no subject
no subject