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summer_of_giles2008-07-15 09:50 pm
cheetahanabel.livejournal.com) wrote in summer_of_giles2008-07-15 09:50 pm
FIC: Watchers' Diaries part 4 (Giles/Wesley) PG-13
Ha, got one more in under the wire. Here y'all are.
Part Four – It Ain’t Necessarily So
2/11/99
I may have just made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Some days I truly believe I’ve become senile in my old age. Nowadays nothing I do makes any sense at all.
Well I’d best begin at the beginning. Today I met my replacement. Initially I was worried that my worst fears had taken place. He was young with a sparkle of intelligence in his eyes and an unbelievably attractive countenance. The entire walk to the library my palms were sweating with fear and worry. Luckily as soon as he introduced himself (as Wesley Wyndam Pryce, the silly ponce) I realized he was over-arrogant and obviously fresh out of his watcher’s training. I questioned him for a bit, discovering nothing to worry me in either his past or his probability for success in our current situation. The man is obviously intelligent enough, but being head boy must have gone to his head. He simply does not think before he speaks, a fairly harmless failing, but a failing nonetheless.
Perhaps the most notable occurrence of his pigheadedness today was the incident directly following Willow’s presence in the library. The man actually had the gall to tell me I was incompetent. I, a man whose slayer had survived over two years, on the hellmouth no less, was incompetent. I immediately put him in his place, but in my anger spoke without forethought. When Wesley practically pounded me on the head with my own stupidity…well, I truly felt not only the fool, but also each and evey one of my forty-five years of age. How could I forget the number of times Willow, sweet innocent Willow, had been thrust into danger over the two years we all had fought hand in hand against evil.
Eventually I left Wesley to spend the night at the library, and so he would have had circumstances been under my control. Once home I had poured my scotch and had very nearly begun writing of my day in this very journal when my loyal slayer came a knock-knock-knocking on my door. Buffy showed me the emblem she had pound on patrol, and told me of the heavy odds she and Faith had been up against in the form of el Eliminati. I went to find the text on this group of dueling vampires and realized it was housed at the library for the time being. After sending Buffy on her way with many a condolence over her ruined hair, I got in the Citreon and drove back to the library.
Once on school grounds I made my way over to my parking spot and proceeded to the back entrance, not wanting to disturb Wesley if he was sleeping. I immediately discovered the library was fully lit and I heard Wesley’s voice from the other side of the room. Thinking he was asking me about patrol, I approached him only to stop dead in my tracks after the first words I heard of the conversation.
“No, of course not father.” Wesley sounded like a different man, drawn in and unsure of himself. “I understand. I would never do anything to harm the family name…I shall try, but father you should see the connection he has with these girls…No, of course, I never forgot that they were slayers…I know father…Of course. Give Mother my love.” I wasn’t sure which part was worst, the resignation, the defeat that had permeated his voice, or the fact that it was all caused by his father. Suddenly feeling like an intruder I made a hasty retreat to the door and reentered, this time knocking my shoes against the door to dislodge imaginary mud.
I heard a startled, “Hello?” from Wesley. I called out to let him know who it was and not to be startled. I heard a sigh and a clatter, which I assumed to be the lowering of a weapon, followed by a relieved, “Thank heaven it’s you Mr. Giles.”
Making my way out of the stacks I was finally able to actually see Wesley’s face for the first time that evening. He seemed a different man: head no longer held up high in assumed arrogance but lowered in submissiveness. Feeling an uncontrollable surge of pity, I told him, “Please just call me Giles. Or Rupert if you’d rather. Mr. Giles is my father.”
It was like I had dropped a bomb into the room. He seemed to draw in on himself, quickly turning around, but I had noticed a glistening in his eyes before he managed to turn away. Apparently he was in the middle of setting up his bed for the night, although he really just seemed to be refolding the same blanket over and over again. I felt like a bumbling old fool who had been too stupid to realize he’d stumbled upon the cruelest thing to say to someone.
Hoping to find a topic slightly less explosive I mentioned the amulet Buffy had found; the effect was not the expected. Wesley suddenly straightened, and he found his voice saying, “Well it’s nice to know my slayer has such a trusted friend that she would go to him with the relevant information first, before even me. I am so happy for the two of you that she happened to find this trinket to show you her undying gratitude. Will you cherish it forever?” He turned around face flushed and looked ready to battle me head on. I stepped forward to try and calm him down when my eyes were suddenly drawn to where he had set up the bed. There was one blanket, obviously wolf-mangled, on the pile of mats. No pillows. No sheets. Nothing comforting in the least. For the first time since meeting Wesley I knew I was in the wrong.
Instead of letting out one of the many expletives on the tip of my tongue, I quickly thought of a plan and immediately put it into action. Putting both hands up in a gesture of pacification I said quietly, “Wesley, come now, you know as well as I that Buffy had no idea where you were staying. She came to me tonight since she knows where I live. We both agreed the best course of action would be my coming to tell you straight away, as you seem to have so much knowledge concerning el Eliminati. She would have come herself, but considering she was almost drowned in battle both of us thought it would be wiser for her to get some rest.
As I spoke Wesley’s figure transformed from one suffused with self-righteous anger to one taken over with arrogance yet again. “Of course, of course. How stupid of me. You would have no knowledge of the writings of Anthmorieties. As I recall his works were just discovered last year.” Listening to him I found myself unable to believe that this was the same defenseless man of a few moments ago. Then suddenly I saw it in his eyes, that little spark that seemed to say, ‘Give me praise. Tell me I’m right. For once in my life let me be good enough.’
I turned around, smiling to myself, so that he could not make out my facial expressions and told him that no, I hadn’t heard of Anthmorieties—though his was the work I had been about to retrieve from the shelves—and that I would love to listen to his thoughts on the possible motivation of el Eliminati. He seemed ready to begin talking at that very moment, but I stopped him, saying, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before, but I have a perfectly serviceable couch you’re welcome to stay on. Come, why don’t we go now and talk about this in the car.”
I steered him out the door with a hand on his back, picking up his suitcase on the way, and managed to get him into my car without mishap. And then the torture began. The man went on, and on, and on about el Eliminati and their motivations, half of which knowledge I knew already and the other half of which sounded more like a fairy tale than actual information. The man seemed to have enough energy to take on all of the vampires in Sunnydale all alone. By the time we returned to my apartment I was ready to begin tearing out hair.
And so now I have a conundrum. How the bloody hell do I go about putting up with Wesley Wyndam Pryce?
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I very much like your setup here-- alternating diary entries for these two men at a conflict-heavy time for them. They've both got something to prove and there are a million reasons why they wouldn't get along. Finding a reason for them to *cooperate* and get close is a great starting point for a story. And diaries are fun to write, aren't they? You get to try for the voices of each of them.
Keep going with this, please!
Thank you, thank you, thank you
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awesome line!!
I immediately put him in his place, but in my anger spoke without forethought. When Wesley practically pounded me on the head with my own stupidity…well, I truly felt not only the fool, but also each and evey one of my forty-five years of age. How could I forget the number of times Willow, sweet innocent Willow, had been thrust into danger over the two years we all had fought hand in hand against evil.
Such a great way to give Giles' actions a little depth (the best part about fanfic, i think!)
I wasn’t sure which part was worst, the resignation, the defeat that had permeated his voice, or the fact that it was all caused by his father. Suddenly feeling like an intruder I made a hasty retreat to the door
What a great way to get Giles more in a place where he's sympathetic (at least partially) to Wes!
He turned around face flushed and looked ready to battle me head on.
So very like Wes - he's feeling a little defensive and so he goes on the attack. And reveals his weakness in the process (but all it does is make me want to cuddle him!)
but I have a perfectly serviceable couch you’re welcome to stay on.
YAY!!!! I see this leading to good things!! And Giles being the bigger person because he sees Wes' vulnerability is so like him!
And so now I have a conundrum. How the bloody hell do I go about putting up with Wesley Wyndam Pryce?
HEEEE!! How indeed Mister Giles!!? I can't wait to read further installments of this and find out how you see it playing out.
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I'm not a Giles/Wesley shipper, but this is the kind of fic which I read with great pleasure. There is so much we don't know about them, how their interaction works and how they influence each other, being both Watchers. And your take on it is really interesting.
Please, continue!
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That said, I find this to be an excellent start to what promises to be an intriguing story. That you chose to open with Wesley was a good move, and his admitting that he knew next to nothing about either Slayer gives him more depth than many writers offer the character at this point in the series. Wesley appeared in Sunnydale and expressed virtually no interest in learning about Buffy and Faith as individuals or even as people, only as Slayers. Here, you set a tone that his officiousness is not based in arrogance but ignorance, a point of view which is both welcomed and appreciated. I find your characterization of Wesley to be apt: he's stuffy and insecure and impatient, which is very much true of Season Three Wes, but you offer hints of what lies beneath, fleshing him out and making him more accessible.
I think your Giles voice is just fine, and being American really has very little to do with anything. If you're comfortable with a character, their nationality takes a backseat as to how you present them. Yes, that they're British is important in terms of manner of speech and how they react to situations and people, but I think most fandom authors have difficulty writing Giles and Wesley not because they're British, but because they're more mature than the other characters, emotionally and psychologically as well as physically.
Writing in the first-person is a difficult and underappreciated art. You really have to have to a firm grasp on canon and believe that you know who these characters are as people, aside from what was presented on the screen. I think you do know them, and it shows in your story. I know many individuals who refuse to read first-person narrative, and several who either can't or won't write it. Good for you for taking a chance which is paying off nicely!
There were no spelling mistakes which jumped out at me, but I did notice a few grammatical errors, primarily in punctuation, which are easily fixed with assistance from a beta. It's a common occurrence; many authors don't notice these errors until they're pointed out by a third-party, and everyone makes mistakes! One thing I do feel compelled to point out is that Faith's surname is spelled "Lehane", not "Lahane".
Fandom, and this fandom in particular, can be scary and daunting, so don't let negative comments hinder your confidence. The fact of the matter is that we need new authors if the fandom is to continue, and the more you write, the more refined you become.
I look forward to where this story is going! Thanks so much for sharing it with us!
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