Fic: The Spirit of the Calling (Rupert/Buffy - NC-17 or FRAO) - Part 8

[laurtew.livejournal.com]

The Spirit of the Calling - Part 8

Author’s Name: The Library Girl (E-Mail: thelibrarygirl@Yahoo.com)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating: NC-17 or FRAO
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Warnings: Lots of crazy sex.
Season: Takes place at the end of season four.
Word Count for this Section: 6400

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Suddenly there were voices behind them and Buffy whirled around to see Quentin Travers walking in with four other men.

“I think we should see results from that study in the next week or so,” Quentin was saying, not yet noticing what was happening. “After that we…”

He broke off, staring at the scene before him, his face a study in shock.

“What the hell is going on here?” Travers looked up at his assistant. “Get him down!”

Buffy nodded at Willow, who eased Sean down, sitting him behind the desk.

Buffy turned to face Travers.

“I told you if you didn’t help me, I’d hunt you down. Well, here I am.”

“And you’re taking it out on an innocent man?” Quentin snapped.

“He’s not innocent,” Buffy responded. “And all we wanted from him was the spell book. If you give it to us, we’ll leave.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Travers said, his eyes narrowing. “You are a danger. You are threatening people you don’t even know, abusing them with magic. I’m afraid we cannot let you leave. I won’t have a rouge Slayer on the loose.”

Before Buffy could respond, one of the men who had come in with Travers stepped forward.

“This is the Slayer?” he asked, looking at her with undisguised curiosity.

“Miss Summers isn’t the Slayer,” Travers said. “She resigned her post.”

“Ahh, so this is Buffy Summers,” Another of the men said. “What are you doing here, child?”

Buffy blinked. This was unexpected.

“I’m…I came to find a spell.” When the men said nothing, Buffy went on. “Mr. Travers cast a spell on my Watcher and it’s killing him. I just want the spell so we can reverse it.”

“Quentin?” The first man said.

“He isn’t her Watcher. He was corrupting her. I’m fairly sure he’s the reason she quit in the first place.”

“Who is your Watcher, dear?” an old man asked, walking over from the open door.

“She doesn’t have one,” Travers answered.

“Yes, I do. My Watcher is Rupert Giles.”

“He was fired for behavior unbecoming of a Watcher.” Travers responded. “And it’s only gotten worse. They are living together and having relations now. He’s broken every rule.”

“So you condemned him to death,” Buffy ground out.

“I gave him fair warning. He chose not to listen.”

“What exactly did this Watcher do to be fired?” the first man asked.

“He displayed inappropriate affection for his Slayer.”

“That’s not true!” Willow spoke up.

“Do you deny they’re romantically involved?” Travers asked.

“Now they are. Back then, Giles only had paternal feelings for her. The reason you gave for firing him was his ‘father’s love’ that he had for her.”

“I could see where it was going,” Travers said, dismissively.

“Could you?” Buffy asked. “Because we couldn’t.”

“This is irrelevant. He broke the rules and he was fired. He was warned to leave the Slayer alone and he didn’t.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Buffy shot back. “He’s trained me, helped me, kept me alive. He’s made me a better Slayer. What is wrong with that?”

“It’s no longer his job.”

“So you’re killing him for that?” Buffy glared at him. “I think you’re really angry because of how well we work together. You’re worried we won’t need you.”

“I am worried that we have a Slayer who will not take direction for the Council; who will not do her job.”

“No you aren’t,” Willow interjected. “Buffy quit the Council over a year ago and in that time you’ve never even tried to get her back. It wasn’t until she and Giles got together and you saw a threat to your authority that you were suddenly interested.”

“Enough of this foolishness,” Travers said.

“I’m curious, Quentin,” the old man said. “Did you try to get her back?”

“What would have been the use? Mr. Giles corrupted her. She even turned away the replacement Watcher we sent.”

“He wasn’t *my* Watcher,” Buffy responded.

“He was perfectly suitable.”

“He was right out of the academy!” Willow said. “Seriously, you send a completely inexperienced Watcher to an active Hellmouth? If we hadn’t had Giles, Buffy would have been killed. And I think you knew that.”

“I refuse to continue this preposterous argument,” Travers said.

“Tell us about this spell, Miss Summers,” the old man said.

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s shutting down his body and killing him.”

The old man turned to where Sean was still sitting at the desk.

“Do you know what this spell is?” he asked.

Sean looked at Travers, who covertly shook his head. Buffy was about to say something when the old man spoke again.

“I wasn’t asking you, Quentin,” he responded. He turned back to Sean, who mutely nodded. “Would you bring it here please?”

Sean went to the bookshelf and reached up and behind, pulling out a wooden box. He brought it to the old man. As he opened the box, the rest of the men gathered round. He pulled out the paper and they all leaned in, reading.

The old man looked up.

“You used this spell? On one of our Watchers?”

“He’s not one of our Watchers!” Travers shot back.

All the men were shaking their heads.

“I’m afraid I underestimated you,” Quentin,” the first man said quietly. “I knew you were personally invested in how Watchers and Slayers related to each other, but I never thought you would go this far.”

“He was having relations with the Slayer, subverting her from her calling.”

“That wasn’t a crime worthy of this,” the old man said, holding up the paper. “I’m afraid we are going to have to make some changes.”

“Changes?” Travers asked, frowning.

“Effective immediately, you are no longer a senior Watcher,” the old man replied. “We trusted you to run the field Watcher’s program and you’ve sorely let us down. Let us see if you’re any better at compiling paperwork. I think we need you to head the records division in Botswana.”

Travers was making strangling noises. Buffy shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” she asked. “I thought Quentin was head of the Council.”

“He was head of this division of the Council. The Council as a whole is run by a senior board.” The first man said.

“And that would be us,” the old man replied with a laugh. “We direct day to day affairs and tell the division heads what to do.”

Buffy was stunned. She was also on a time schedule.

“I appreciate you help,” she said. “But I did have a reason for being here. Could I please have that spell?”

“Of course, child,” the old man said, handing it to her. “But it won’t do you any good. There isn’t a counter spell to it.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, frowning at the paper in her hand. “There’s no way to reverse it?”

“It means there isn’t one written,” the first man said.

“Could we write one?” Buffy asked.

“If you knew how to, I suppose you could,” the old man said. “But it’s a very complicated spell.”

Buffy handed the paper to Willow.

“How complicated, Wil?”

“Oh, Buffy,” Willow was shaking her head. “This spell…each line is a separate spell in itself. I’d have to write a counter spell for each one. And if I messed even one up…Gods, I…I don’t want to kill him or give him gills.”

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Buffy asked the old man. “He’s my Watcher and I love him. Please.”

“Don’t you have magicians on staff here?” Willow asked.

“We do,” the old man answered.

“Could we borrow them? If I had help, this would go so much faster.”

“I think it’s the least we can do,” the second man said. “Your Watcher should have never been taken from you in the first place. We are sorry this happened.”

The men stood and Buffy and Willow started to follow them from the room. As she passed Travers, leaned into her.

“This isn’t over,” he hissed.

“Oh, yes it is,” the old man said, turning around. “You will be ready to leave for you new posting by tomorrow night. Your authority is withdrawn and your magic will be curtailed. If any further retribution is taken against the Slayer, her Watcher, or any of her companions, we will have to do something…drastic. This is not an idle threat, Quentin. You crossed a line tonight and the board is not pleased. I suggest you start packing.”

With that, the men walked out of the room, with Buffy and Willow trailing behind.

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“I think this is the best we’re going to get,” Willow said, handing Buffy a paper.

“Wil, this means nothing to me. What does it say?”

“We are pretty sure it undoes everything Travers did to him.” Willow said, sighing. “I really wish I could run it past a fresh pair of eyes though.”

“Can’t we get Tara and Wes to look at it?” Buffy asked. “I mean, they’re going to help you do it, so they should see it.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Willow said, rubbing her eyes. “Let me e-mail it to Tara and then we can call them.”

Twenty minutes later, Buffy was on the phone with Wes.

“Well? What do you and Tara think?” Buffy asked. “Will it work and can you do it?”

“Willow also sent us the original spell and from what we can see, it should undo the damage. And I’m pretty sure we can do it. I think.”

“You have ‘but’ voice, Wes,” Buffy said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m hearing a big giant ‘but’ at the end of that sentence. What aren’t you saying?”

“Buffy, this spell will remove all the magic from him.”

“That’s what we want isn’t it?”

“The good as well as the bad.”

“What does that mean, Wes?”

“It means that he won’t be able to cast spells, he won’t have the adrenaline boost anymore, so fighting with a Slayer…living with a Slayer…Buffy, he’ll just be an ordinary man.”

Buffy paused, blinking, taking in what he was saying.

“Isn’t there a way to separate the good from the bad?” she asked.

“Maybe if we had a couple more weeks to work on this. But, Buffy, Rupert’s got a few more hours at best.”

“Then we have no choice,” Buffy said, silent tears running down her face. “I’d rather have him as an ordinary man than not have him at all. When can you do the spell?”

“We’re set up now,” Wes said. “Whenever Willow is ready, we can start.”

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Buffy stood off to the side, watching as Willow put herbs in a big metal bowl. She mixed a pinch of this with a dash of that, just like Buffy’s grandmother did when she made pies. Of course Buffy’s grandmother had never put salamander eyes in her dough; at least not that Buffy knew about. Willow poured something from a clear glass bottle and then threw in a match. The mixture hissed and blue smoke poured out. Willow picked up the phone.

“Are you there?” she asked. After a beat, she looked up at the ceiling. “Vox ov ceterus pars, nos queso vos. Tribuo nos ops nostrum amicus. Adfero nos vestri curatio navitas.”

Willow was quiet, listening to Wes and Tara do their part, and then she continued.

Buffy couldn’t understand any of it, so as she stood, quietly observing, her mind began to wander. Inevitably, it went to Rupert. She thought back to the first time she’d met him, to that adorable befuddled look he’d given her when she threw him the curveball that she refused to be the Slayer. She sifted through her hazy memories of the spell he’d done to save her from Amy’s mother. She hadn’t understood exactly what he was doing at the time, but his hands were blistered and red for three days after he stuck them in bubbling potion just to save her. She thought of their training those first few months and she realized that his whole bumbling Watcher routine had been an act designed to get her to find her own fighting style. She’d thought him weak and useless, but he had dented his dignity for her and she was a better Slayer because if it. She remembered his face when he said he wouldn’t let her face the Master, that he would go in her place. No one had ever been willing to die for her before. When she was sure Machida was going to eat her, somehow she’d known he would come to save the day; he always did.

She began to think about more recent events, about the life they were forming together. She thought of their demon slaying and the amazing sex afterwards, the way he touched her, the love in his eyes. She closed her eyes, picturing his laugh, his smile, the way he ran his fingers through his hair when he was nervous. After this, their life together wouldn’t be the same. There would be no more spell casting, no more demon fighting, no crazy hot nine times in one night sex. But at least she would have him. Nothing else mattered. The man he was, the love he had for her, none of that was related to the magic. She loved him and anything else they could work out together.

“Ita ego signum is scelero quod incendia.” Willow called out, as she cut her finger with a dagger that was sitting next to the bowl. She squeezed three drops of blood into the mixture and it burst into flame. Buffy watched as the fire turned green. “ostendo mihi a subcribdal.”

Suddenly the flames shot up in a column, illuminating the room. And in one breath they were gone. The room felt darker as Buffy looked around.

“Wes?” Willow said into the phone. “Did it work? Well, call Xander, then call us back.”

She hung up the phone, looking at Buffy. She was shaking and her lips were pressed together.

It seemed to take forever, but finally the phone rang. Buffy and Willow both dived for it, but Willow was closer.

“Wes?” Willow was quiet for a minute. Tears began to stream down her face before she finally breathed out, “Thank God.” and smiled at Buffy.

Silent sobs wracked Buffy’s body as she gave thanks to any deity that would listen for saving him. She looked up and mouthed “thank you” to the board members and they all nodded in return. Willow walked up to her.

“So, what do you say we go home?”

Buffy just smiled in return.

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“No offense, Wil,” Buffy said as they walked down the halls of the Sunnydale hospital. “But next time, we are so taking a plane back.”

“Hey, it was your idea!” Willow retorted.

“I know,” Buffy said, smiling at her. “I just had no idea how hard it would be on my stomach. I don’t think I’ll eat for a week.”

They paused outside Rupert’s room, each giving the other strength, and then they went in.

Xander was sitting next to the bed as they came in.

“Has he woken up yet?” Buffy asked.

“Not yet,” Xander answered. “But they took him off the ventilator about an hour ago. He’s breathing on his own and his blood pressure is looking much better.”

“His color looks better too,” Willow said, standing next to the bed.

Buffy walked over, looking at him. Willow was right; he did look much better. She reached out and took his hand.

“I guess we’re back to waiting,” Buffy said.

“It’s better than waiting for him to die,” Xander said, sighing.

“You were right, Wil,” Buffy said, looking at her across the bed. “He is going to be alright. Thanks to you.”

“Aww, Buffy. I had help,” Willow replied, blushing. “Speaking of which, where are Tara and Wes?”

“They’re cleaning up the spell mess at the flat,” Xander said,

“What spell mess?” Buffy asked, looking at him.

“Well, I guess there was this big column of flames and it set the carpet on fire. So, Anya had to dump water on it. Which lead to a broken lamp. Don’t ask me, I have no clue how she did that. Then after the spell was over, Wesley accidentally knocked over the bowl they were using, adding green goo to the mess. I think you may have to have someone come in and professionally clean the place, Buff.”

“Well, I guess it could be worse.,” Buffy said, sighing. “I’m not sure how, but…”

She stopped, her eyes going wide. She looked down to where her hand was holding Rupert’s, feeling a shock go through her as she realized that his hand had tightened around hers.

“Rupert?” she asked, trying not to hope.

He lay there, still and unmoving and she drew in a shaky breath, fighting her disappointment. She was about to ask Xander when the doctor would be back when she saw Rupert’s eyelids flutter. And then he was looking around, his eyes searching the room, taking everything in. He focused on Buffy, studying her face, and then he squeezed her hand. Tears were streaming down her face and she couldn’t even find the breath to speak.

“Buffy, love,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Why are you crying?”

She could only shake her head, biting her lower lip and sobbing. He looked at her, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Hey, welcome back, big guy,” Xander said, moving to stand next to Buffy. “You gave us all a pretty good scare.”

“Did I?” his expression was one of concentration. “The last thing I remember was making tea. What happened? And how did I end up here?”

Buffy, Xander, and Willow all looked at each other, none of them wanting to be the one to start it. Finally, Buffy took a deep breath.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she said. “Except to tell you that I love you and if you ever leave me again, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I love you too, Buffy. But now you have me worried.”

“You had me worried too,” she said. “So, you remember making tea. We remember you fainting.”

And then they all began the daunting task of filling him in.

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Buffy sat in her dorm room, staring at the floor. She knew that she needed to go to class, but she couldn’t bring herself to really care. She had been so relieved when Rupert opened his eyes in the hospital, thinking the worst was past, and that they could move forward together.

Catching him up had been a group effort, everyone adding details here and there. He had taken it fairly well, the shocks being what they were. His anger at Quentin Travers ebbed when he found out of the man’s demotion and punishment. Buffy wasn’t sure she was going to be as generous.

The thing that seemed to throw him the most was when Wes was detailing the spell, how it had pulled all the magic from him in order to save his life. He’d frowned, asking what it meant for him. His frown deepened as Willow explained the result. He visibly shook it off and Buffy thought that was the end of it, until he was released from the hospital. He was only there another twenty-four hours for observation and Buffy was beyond excited to have him home. As they were loading him into Xander’s car, he turned to Buffy.

“May I ask a favor?” His voice was quiet and he was looking at the pavement.

“Anything,” she’d answered, taking his hand.

“Could I…could I have a few days to adjust?” He’d asked. “I need some time to myself. Would it be too much to ask for you to stay at the dorm for a couple nights?”

Buffy blinked, feeling hurt, but she’d smiled, touching his face.

“Of course it’s not a problem,” she’d said. “I’ll stop in and see you first thing tomorrow. If you need anything, call me.”

“I will. And Buffy, thank you.”

She should have told him no, told him that they were in this together and if he needed to adjust, that she would help him to do it. But she hadn’t and when she’d shown up at his flat the next morning, he wouldn’t let her in.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” he’d said. “This really isn’t a good time.

When she’d pressed him, he sighed, raking a hand through his hair.

“This isn’t working out.”

“What isn’t?” Buffy asked.

“You and I and our relationship. I think it’s for the best if we…stop seeing each other.”

“So, I’m just supposed to see you for training and patrolling and pretend that I don’t have feelings for you?” Buffy felt like he’d slapped her.

“Buffy, I won’t be training you or going on patrols, either,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

“You’re just retiring?” She asked, giving into the anger she’d been holding back.

“I’m no longer a Watcher,” he’d replied.

“Didn’t stop you before,” she retorted. “They fired you, threatened you even, and I still had to stick to your weekly training schedule.”

“This isn’t…” He closed his eyes, taking a breath. “I can’t do those things any longer. I’m sorry, Buffy, but I’m just not the man that you need me to be anymore.”

With that, he’d gone back into his apartment and closed the door in her face.

That had been three days ago and she hadn’t heard a word from him. The first day, Buffy had tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, going out on her regular patrol. She took Willow with her, which had been a good thing, as she’d been so distracted that she’d nearly had her throat ripped out. Wes, who was still in town, wrapping up some final ends to the spell, had insisted that he would take patrols until she was back on more stable ground.

So, here she was, sitting in an empty dorm room, a shell of a Slayer, broken, empty, and feeling entirely too pathetic. She was debating with herself, trying to decide if it was too much effort to walk across the room to get some yogurt and had just decided that eating was far too overrated, when there was a knock at her door.

Sighing and fighting the urge to just ignore it and hope they went away, Buffy got up and answered the door. Xander blinked when he saw her.

“You look like hell, Buffy,” he said.

“Yeah, I love you too,” she replied, stepping back from the door so he could come in. “What can I do for you?”

He crossed the room to sit on her bed. He looked at his hands. After a minute, he looked up, frowning.

“You can tell me why you’re here, hiding in the dark, instead of at Giles’s place, fixing all this.”

“Because he doesn’t want to fix it,” Buffy replied, her voice tight.

“Yes, he does,” Xander said, looking frustrated. “But for some reason, you’ve both given up.”

“I tried,” Buffy shot back, tears pricking her eyes. “I begged him to let me in so we could talk and he turned me away. It’s almost funny, you know. When we were together he told me that he just knew that one day I’d realize that I didn’t love him. Turns out that he’s the one who only wanted me for sex. Now that he doesn’t need to pin me to walls, I’m not good enough.”

“Would you stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen,” Xander snapped. Buffy looked at him with wide eyes, but he ignored her. “He was worried about you leaving him because he didn’t think he was good enough for you. Now that he’s not super librarian guy anymore, now that he *can’t* pin you to walls seven times in a row, he *knows* he’s not. He loves you as much as he ever did. That’s why he’s walking away and letting you find someone who’s worthy of your love.”

“Did he tell you that?” Buffy asked, trying to ignore the little surge of hope.

“Not in so many words.”

“How many did he use?”

“What he said was that he’s now useless. You deserve someone who can fight at your side and keep up with you in bed and now all he is is a retired librarian with a PhD in Anthropology.”

Buffy frowned. Was that really how he saw himself?

“What can I do about it?” she asked. “I tried talking to him. He won’t even let me in.”

“Make him listen!” Xander yelled. “Damn it, Buffy. If you love him go to him, talk to him, show him that how you feel about him has nothing to do with his physical ability or his prowess in bed. He’s so sure that he’s nothing but a liability now that he’s starting to think about going back to England. You need to go get his attention.”

Buffy stood up, nodding.

“Okay, I’ll try.”

---------------------------------
Buffy took a deep breath, pulled on her emotional armor, and knocked on his door. After a minute, the hatch opened and he looked out.

“Buffy? I’m sorry, but you really must go.”

“Make me,” she said.

He blinked.

“I’m really not up to this,” he sighed. “If you really care what I think, you’ll go.”

“And if you really cared what I think, you’d talk to me. I think you owe me that much.”

“Buffy…I can’t.”

“Well, then, I’m just going to stand out here until you do.”

“Why are you doing this?” he snapped.

“Because I love you,” she said, her voice catching. “Because I need you, as my Watcher, as my friend, as my other half. I came here a few weeks ago, terrified, begging for your help. Well, now I’m back, doing the same thing. Will you turn me away this time?”

Tears were streaming openly down her face, blurring her vision, and she missed his reaction, so she was surprised when the door opened and he stepped to the side. She took the invitation, walking into his flat. She heard the door closed and turned to see him staring at her, his expression unreadable. After a few seconds, he motioned her to the couch. She sat, trying to pull up the courage to look at him.

“Buffy…”

“Please, let me talk,” she begged. “I know that you think because you’ve changed that I won’t love you, but you’re wrong. It was never about what you can do. It’s the man that you are.”

“I’m not that man anymore,” he responded. “How can I be anything to you now? I have no magic to protect you with. If Amy’s mother were to attack today, you would die and there would be nothing I could do about it. Without my enhanced DNA, I don’t have the strength and agility to fight with you, let alone train you. How can I patrol with you when you have to worry that I can’t take care of myself?”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Buffy said, biting her lower lip.

“All right, what about when you come to me, aching, needing, and I can’t do anything for you?”

“I’m not like that anymore,” she responded quietly. “The spell wore off in the last couple days. At least I’m pretty sure it did. I can’t hear your heartbeat anymore and I don’t know what you’re thinking. I think I’m just Buffy now.”

“Yes, but ‘just Buffy’ has needs in that area and they are more demanding than most women. I can’t keep up with you now.”

“Are you trying to say without the magic you’re impotent?”

“Of course not,” he snapped. “But could you really be satisfied with one short round, as most normal men my age could provide?”

“Who says it has to be short?” she asked quietly. “It was the foreplay and games that I enjoyed. You can still do that, can’t you?”

“Of course I can, but how hollow will that feel, knowing what you’re missing? How can I be so restricted now? Don’t you understand? I am essentially crippled. In order to live my life, I’ll have to adapt to limitations, just as if I were blind or paralyzed. I will not force you to deal with that.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” Buffy asked. “Do you really think you’re handicapped?”

“Compared to what I was, yes. And for the rest of my life, I’m going to know what I should have been and watch myself fall short.” He closed his eyes and said something under his breath. If Buffy hadn’t been the Slayer, she’d have never heard him. “Why couldn’t you have just let me die?”

“Seriously?” she asked, her lips twitching with anger and sorrow. “You’d rather I had just…”

She shook her head, unable to continue.

“In my darker moments, yes,” he responded. “Everything I know, everything I was, is gone. I’ve gone from being a Watcher who was in love with the Slayer to a retired librarian. How am I supposed to adjust to that?”

“We can adjust together,” she said. “You said we can get through anything together.”

“That was before I lost myself,” he said. “I will not burden you and make you my Seeing Eye dog. I can’t.”

Buffy was seriously fighting the urge to throttle him when there was a knock at the door.

“That must be Wes,” Rupert said getting to his feet. “He and Willow did a spell for me to see exactly how much damage was done.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Buffy said, watching him walk to the door.

“This spell is supposed to chart all the changes in my DNA, to see what was taken away from me. It should make it easier to adjust.” He opened the door, stepping back to let Wesley in.

“Rupert,” Wes said, nodding at him as he walked in. He looked surprised to see Buffy, but he smiled at her. “I’m actually very glad you’re here. I wanted you to hear all this too.”

“I appreciate you doing this,” Rupert said. “I’m hoping it will make my new life a bit easier.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure it will,” Wes replied with a smile.

“What did you find?” Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “What was changed?”

“Nothing,” Wes answered.

“I’m sorry?” Rupert responded, his brow furrowing. “Nothing?”

“Essentially.”

“But, I feel different,” Rupert said. “I’m weaker, I ache more, I tire more easily.”

“Well, you are still recovering from nearly dying from a supernatural poison. I think that has a lot to do with it. I also think you expect to feel that way, so you’re talking yourself into it. It’s amazing what your mind can convince you of. And there are a few small changes, so that might account for some of it.”

“Are you sure?” Rupert asked, still frowning.

“I was as surprised as you are,” Wes said. “So Willow and I did the spell three more times, just to be sure. It always came out the same way.”

“I don’t understand,” Buffy said. “I thought the spell pulled all the magic out of him.”

“It was supposed to pull out all the magic that it thought didn’t belong,” Wes replied. “For most of us, that would be everything of a supernatural nature. But for Rupert, apparently, the spell saw the changes in his DNA as a part of him and left them. Well, most of it.”

“Most?” Rupert asked, looking up.

“Some of your extra adrenal glands have shut down.” Wes admitted. “I’d say you have maybe fifteen percent less than you started with. But, as you had about fifty percent more than the rest of us going into it, I don’t think it will slow you down much.”

“So, he can still fight? His reflexes, his speed?”

“I doubt you’ll even notice a difference.”

Buffy looked at Rupert, and then went on.

“And what about in other areas?” she asked. “Will he still be the same in...”

She trailed off and Rupert looked at her, studying her face. He turned to Wes.

“You know of my condition?” he asked candidly. When Wesley nodded, he continued. “Will
I still have it? After battles will I still have ‘crawling in my skin, dying with need, must shag nine times’ nights?”

“With the amount of adrenal decrease, I’d say it’ll be more like, ‘my but I’m randy, let’s shag two or three times,’ nights.”

Buffy was impressed that Wes managed not to blush through all of that. She turned to Rupert, who was looking stunned.

“Huh. Seems the magic changed you to be even more compatible with me,” she said. “I’ll admit, I was a bit worried as to how I would feel when the spell wore off and you still needed to throw me against walls ten times in a night. But, pinning me down and playing a little rough two or three times? I’m so there.”

He looked at her, shaking his head.

“How can you even think about me that way after how I acted?” he asked.

“Because I love you,” she said, moving to sit next to him.

He reached out, touching her face.

“Can you forgive me?” he whispered.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied, smiling at him.

He leaned down, kissing her tenderly and she thought her heart would burst from happiness. She had him back and all was right with her world.

Wes gave a small cough and they broke the kiss; Buffy tried not to blush.

“There is one other thing,” he said. “Before I leave you to…uh…get reacquainted.”

“And what is that?” Rupert asked, taking Buffy’s hand.

“I was doing a little extra research on all of this last night and I found something interesting in one of the old diaries. It was written right about the time of the change in leadership and the Watcher writing it wasn’t too impressed with the new head of the board and all of his ‘innovative’ policy changes. His name was Percival Porter, and he went on for pages about how self-serving the new head was and how his ideas were going to fundamentally change the Slayer program, and not for the better.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Buffy asked.

“The new board member was named Hamilton Travers. And once he was elected head of the board, he started appointing assorted family members to positions of power. It seems, according to the diary, that Hamilton felt that the Slayers needed to be brought down a few pegs because they thought they were as good as their Watchers. But Percival suspected that he really realized that a good Slayer/Watcher partnership needed no one else and couldn’t justify two hundred assorted friends and relatives receiving a paycheck. What I’m trying to tell you is that Quentin Travers was handed his position from a long line of people who used the Slayers to stay in power. It’s wrong and it comes to an end here. The board is considering bringing back some of the old ways because of the two of you. I know it doesn’t make this any less traumatic, but maybe we’ll see a greater good from it.”

“Thank you,” Rupert said, reaching out to shake Wes’s hand. “I cannot ever repay you for what you’ve done, but I want you to know how grateful I am.”

Wesley chuckled.

“Let’s just call it partial payment for all the times you saved my life when I was assigned here.”

“How about we agree that this is what family does for each other and call it even?” Buffy said, smiling at Wes. He looked at her with huge eyes and nodded.

“I would like that very much. I should go back to Los Angeles now.”

He rose to leave and Buffy and Rupert got to their feet to walk him out.

“You stay safe, Wes,” Buffy said. She rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek, hugging him. He looked nonplussed for a moment, and then he hugged her back. “Tell Angel hello and be careful, please.”

Rupert shook his hand again and after a pause, pulled him in for an awkward one armed hug. Both men seemed slightly embarrassed.

“If you ever need any help, please call on us,” Rupert said. “It’s what family does.”

Wesley nodded at him.

“And you remember the same.”

Buffy gave him one last hug and he walked out, closing the door behind him.

Buffy turned back to Rupert.

“So, I’m a little unclear. Am I staying here tonight?”

“I’m very much hoping so,” Rupert replied. “Tonight and every night, if you’re willing. I am so very sorry, Buffy. I was scared, I felt so weak, and I knew that if I depended on you, when you realized how inadequate I was, you would tear my heart out when you left. I can see now that I not only overreacted, but I sold you short as well. Can you forgive me?”

“I do, Rupert. I just need you to promise me something.”

“Anything, love.”

“No matter what happens, no matter what we fight or what weaknesses we face, you won’t run away from me again. I can face any demon, or whatever comes along, as long as I have you. Please, trust that I really do love you and don’t ever leave me alone.”

“I promise, dearest. I am yours, body and soul, and I will never leave my place at your side again. I am sorry and I will make it up to you.”

“Really?” Buffy asked, looking at him, giving him her cutest flirty smile. “And how are you going to do that?”

“I am still recuperating, love, so the whipped cream will have to wait for another night. But I was thinking perhaps a nice back rub in a hot bath would be a good start? We could see where it goes from there?”

Buffy’s smile got bigger.

“Can we have candles in the bathroom?”

“Of course,” he replied, kissing her temple.

“That sounds perfect,” Buffy sighed.

“Buffy?”

“Hmmm?”

“I just wanted you to know that I love you.”

“I love you too, Rupert. So very much.”

He leaned in and kissed her again, breaking it only when he offered her his hand, and led her to the bathroom.

THE END