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fpb“What happens to the world, if all the heroes lose?”
(Jack Kirby – Captain America 211)
“…anyway, I could see that Buffy didn’t want any more questioning, so I made her invisible, and we went off. I had business in college, anyway.”
“You made her invisible? Aren’t you pushing things a bit?”
“Not real invisibility, Dawny. I just sort of reached out and hypnotized the people around so that they thought they couldn’t see her.”
“Yes, not too difficult. But still, Willow, I hope you’re not going to make it a habit of manipulating people’s minds.”
“But Giles! I didn’t even modify their memories… As soon as we left, they’ll have realized that we were there!”
“And that is any better? You’ll end up with a bunch of confused people, many of them quite angry!”
“Giles, please! What is this, a trial?”
Giles was concerned. It had happened before: him condemning Willow for abusing her power, and Willow refusing to listen. He did not like her using her power so casually, but liked even less the idea of another argument with her. He changed direction.
“Not really, no. Actually I wanted to talk about something quite different… Is Buffy coming?”
“Well…”
…………………………………………………………………….
Two hours before, Buffy and Willow were in the entrance hall of the college offices. Willow dropped a quick peck on Buffy’s cheek and headed towards the registration office. Buffy had asked her to be left alone for a bit; she wanted to think about what she was going to do.
Walking aimlessly down long, institutional corridors, she tried to concentrate on how she saw her future. Catch up with Dad would have been the most obvious path – were it not that she hated the skanky ho with whom he had hooked up (dropping Mom for that? Please, Dad, where’s your sense of taste?), and that she still had some anger against him to work out, mainly because of his failure to appear or get in touch when Mom died. Plus, he still knew nothing about her being the Slayer. It had been hard enough for Mom to accept; how was he going to deal?
Again, there was no real point to it. It’s all very well to say “catch up with Dad”, but it doesn’t tell you what to do with the rest of your life. Until now, you’ve been chained to the Hellmouth, unable to leave it even for a short vacation in case something dark and nasty decided it was the right time to make a snack of your friends and… well, your planet. You had to give up college and take a rubbish job in order to do your duty as a Slayer. But now you can do anything, Buffy Summers… anything except go home. What will you do?
Buffy looked around her, taking in the environment and the people. Some were nice, some were creepy; but neither they nor their environment inspired her. She had an instinctive feeling that she did not belong here. She was not, perhaps, a born scholar. Willow was: her eyes shone with enthusiasm at the mention of a new book, a new field of inquiry, a new and interesting theory. (And Buffy’s own eyes softened as the image of her friend passed for a moment through her mind, smiling and happy.) Buffy felt the same kind of mind in many of the people around her – that man with the glasses and fading brown beard, walking by at a swift pace, immersed in thought and with two ring files under his arm – that middle-aged woman with the elegantly cut tweeds, animatedly discussing something with a much younger man with a clever but ugly face – that fat, elderly, red-faced man with a permanent twinkle in his eyes, sitting down and looking at the people go by, taking her in too, as if he knew and understood exactly the sort of thing she was. Willow will be at home here, she thought ruefully – and yet with a kind of satisfaction for her friend; here, or anywhere else dedicated to study.
But I? Yes, it’s a quandary, really. I don’t want to be flipping burgers my whole life long; and now I no longer have to, either. I do need an education. But I have this feeling – what? I think it’s that I feel too old to be a student and too young to be a teacher. Someone once suggested that I go into law enforcement… it would sound better if I had a better opinion of the police. And Riley’s outfit is really too “guy” for feminine little old me; besides, I’m crap at following orders. And what about the Slayer? Is my work really over, and what about all those young girls whose powers are awakening within them now, and no guidance for them at all? The Council is destroyed; Giles and I, alone – or even with the help of Kennedy and the other former Potentials – can do nothing whatever to help them and guide them. Where in the world is such power? And it seems that one has already lost it. She’s lucky that she ran into me rather than Faith or Kennedy…
Suddenly Buffy stopped in her tracks. She turned left, opened a door – almost splintering the lock in her urgency, before she realized it was open. She stepped into a cavernous lecture theatre where two or three dozen people were sitting in a circle with instruments in their hands, listening to the one person who was standing.
“James, you have to try and put more body into the sound, beginning with the ninth bar after G. Remember, this needs to have impact. If you produce a thin reedy sound, it will kill the music at that point. All right, everybody? Now then, twentieth bar after F, one, two, three – who’s that?”
Buffy wished the ground would swallow her. “Hey, you! Who are you? Don’t you know rehearsals are private?”
“I d-d-didn’t know… I’m sorry… Can I stay, please? I won’t make any noise…”
“Well, really… All right, just this once. But don’t make a sound… And if I hear that any report of this rehearsal has ended up on the college paper, I’ll personally have you thrown off campus, whoever you are!”
Buffy sat down in the furthest possible seat, trying to make no more impression than a mouse. She had never even sat in on one of Oz’s rehearsals, let alone the complexities of a symphony orchestra; and she was fascinated. After a while, she managed to get a grip on the proceedings by going back to her amateur figure skating days – relating the music to motions of the human body, imagining how she would perform that passage and what it would mean to her. Eventually she realized that the rehearsal had ended. She made her way to the conductor.
“Look, I really want to apologize. I didn’t know anything about rehearsals – point of fact, I’ve never listened to this kind of music before.”
“Beginner, eh?” said the tall, gangling man, who, on close inspection, seemed to be something of an enthusiast for his subject. “I’ll excuse you, then. Was it really your first time?”
“Yes. I’m not even a student here… though I’m trying to make up my mind whether I want to join. That’s why I was wandering up and down the campus.”
“You look a year or two too old for a freshman.”
“I’m not. I used to study at UC Sunnydale, but you know what happened…”
“Yeah… the earthquake. Well, listen, if you join and want to hear some more good music, you’re welcome to sit in.”
“Thanks… sincerely. What was it you were rehearsing?”
“Dvorak’s Cello Concerto.”
……………………………………………………………………………………
“… I left Buffy in college. I wanted to get through all the formalities, and she said she had to think whether she wanted to go back to study at all.”
“I see. Well, I assume she’ll be joining us soon. Meanwhile, I think we can make a start.”
Spike, Anya, Xander, Dawn and Willow all turned to him. “You have to understand that what I am about to propose isn’t negotiable. You may accept it or you may reject it, but if it’s going to be done, it will be done as I set it out.”
“With Spike I’ve already spoken. As for the rest of you – let’s start with this. Willow?” – and he held out a white envelope to her.
Willow’s eyes grew huge and round, her face flushed, and her jaw almost fell. “B-but I thought I had already turned this down? I mean, isn’t it like I ruled myself out? Can I get a second shot?”
“Circumstances have changed. You stayed in Sunnydale to help the person you loved; but there is no more need of such heroic self-sacrifice. And I hardly have to remind you that an Oxford degree would do your career no harm.”
“A-are there witches in Oxford?”
“Less than in Oxnard, perhaps” – and Giles grinned at Xander, who on one famous occasion had mistaken the legendary English university with a Californian town – “But I think I can safely say that you will not find yourself alone. There are also some very active gay and lesbian groups.”
“B-but…”
“You see, Willow, I – and some friends – have been asking ourselves what we were to do with Buffy, with yourself, and, frankly, with me, once the menace of the Hellmouth was over. And it occurred to me that there were a considerable amount of things we could now do.
“One of them certainly is to get you an education worthy of you. The University of California is a first-rate institution, but…
Suddenly Buffy blew in like a gale. “I’ve got to speak with somebody! Is Giles here? Giles? Thank God I’ve found you!” Spike almost giggled at the interruption.
“Buffy?”
“Look, you remember that music from the sky that I kept hearing? I was on campus today and I heard something exactly like it, and it was –“ she took a piece of paper from her jeans pocket – “Dvorak’s Cello Concerto!” She mispronounced it horribly.
Buffy did not know what to expect from her friends; certainly not the complete and total anti-climax that followed. For a few seconds, nobody spoke – not because they were surprised, but because they found the fact simply uninteresting. Spike was the only one who even knew the music.
“Look, you guys don’t understand. I’ve been going crazy for days because I kept feeling that there was something I should be hearing, and now I’ve understood what it is, and nobody cares!”
“You’ve got to explain yourself a little better, you know, Buffy. When people hear classical music in the distance, it’s usually because someone else has their hi-fi on.”
“That’s just what I said”, added Anya.
Buffy felt like she might explode. “Are you being thick on purpose, or…?” She pulled herself together. “Okay. Okay. You cannot understand it yourselves. Take it from me, this thing is not someone’s radio in the distance. I’ve been hearing it for days, getting more and more distinct. And I didn’t say that it is Dvorak’s Cello Concerto; I said that it sounds just like it. I mean lots of strings and long tunes… and a general sense that you’re going somewhere.”
“Right,” said Giles, “at least that’s clearer now. And I’m sorry if I was a bit obstructive. But I still have to tell you that I cannot do much about it. If you could at least find out what the music actually is?”
“I think I’m going to try something, Giles.”
“Willow?” – and Giles looked at her with a worried surmise in his eyes; a surmise that did not only have to do with Buffy’s strange perceptions, but with the fear that any unprompted use of magic by Willow always aroused.
Still, what she said next was so harmless that his fear died down. “Yes. I mean, now we know what it is and what it sounds like, I can try and investigate, I mean do a reveal, on any sort of continuous magic wave activity… maybe I can identify what it is. It’s still long odds…”
“No reason not to try.”
“No, indeed”, said Buffy, who had visibly relaxed now that a course of action was being proposed.
“All right, then, do it. But later. Now there’s something else I’d like to discuss.” Giles had put on one of his rare authority modes.
“Discuss?”
“Giles says I should go to Oxford, Buffy. We were discussing it before you arrived.”
“Not just you. I think Buffy should come to England too. Although the Council is destroyed, there is in London the headquarters of a particular kind of worldwide magic police, for which I think she is unusually suited. How would you like to enforce magical law, Buffy? Chase transgressors across the world?”
“Well… I… but…”
“You remember Careers Week, Buffy? They said you were suited for law enforcement? And I think I could find the odd vampire or demon who’d say the same.”
“Yes, but…”
“Magical law enforcement is much more individualistic than the ordinary kind. Agents are allowed to act pretty much off their own head, and can set their own agendas in terms of what they pursue and how they pursue it – within limits, of course. But if I introduced you to one or two of my friends on the force, they would look more like pirates to you than policemen.”
“Uh...”
“Of course, it takes training, and training takes money. Which is why I said earlier that these proposals are non-negotiable: either you refuse them all, or you do as I say. I propose to set up three trust funds, one for each of you, to pursue your own education or training until you are able to earn your own living – oh, nothing lavish, but enough to avoid having a Slayer flipping burgers for a living. British universities aren’t used to that kind of thing; they expect you to dedicate your full working time to study.”
This time, Willow’s jaw did drop; and so did Buffy’s, Dawn’s, Xander’s, Anya’s and Spike’s. That Giles was rich was something that was generally understood, kept at the back of their minds among the other items of general knowledge. That he should consider supporting them on this fantastic scale – years of education for all of them, fully paid up – was something that had not even entered any of their brains. They knew, too, that if they indicated in any way how generous they thought this, he would change the subject. The only thing was to treat this as he obviously wanted it treated, as a plain business proposition. Unfortunately one or two of those present were not exactly born to be tactful -
“Well, after all, it’s only money, innit?”
“Yeah, well, Spike, I guess that if ain’t blood it don’t matter to you.”
“XANDER!” said Buffy in a forbidding voice, just in time to prevent some predictably gauche rejoinder by Anya. Then, to Giles: “I think it is an excellent idea, and it would certainly give me a direction I need.” She tried to hold her tone at the most even, businesslike and formal, and to avoid emotional outbursts that might have embarrassed this most open-handed of friends; he noticed, and was grateful. “I would however need to know more about this magical police force… And to sleep on it, perhaps?”
“Of course, of course. Another important thing I did not have the time to say… as I was saying, Willow, the University of California is a first-rate institution – but it does not teach magic. Now, you main subject in Oxford would be magic.”
“Oh… oh, I see. Then I guess I have to go really, don’t I? I mean, I do need to learn – not to go all crazy and veiny, or skanky and leathery and – oh, wait a minute” (and she giggled softly in her throat) “I am gay now…”
“You, Xander, already have a job and a career, and I gather you are not interested in further education. If by any chance you wished to come to Britain, however, I might be persuaded to invest in a building business run by you… there is plenty of construction work over there, including on my own estates. And in some cases” – he smiled slightly – “it might be useful to have a construction firm that is not surprised by magic…”
“I’ll think about it”, said Xander. All of three seconds, he thought; from the moment he understood that all his best friends were being offered lavish terms to leave the country, he had been turning over plans in his mind to go with them.
About Anya nobody spoke. There were painful pretences to be kept up in that area – such as that she was not still in love with Xander with all her heart and soul. If he came to Britain, everyone understood that she would follow.
Buffy’s heart was so full, she was near tears. Sitting on the floor with her legs folded under her, she could look at the tall figure of Giles from below – feeling like she was near a tower, a pillar. No matter where I came from, she thought in a rush of gratitude, this is my real father… this is the man to whom I owe my life and soul.
The she realized that there was one thing they had not asked about…But Willow got there first, by a millisecond.
“What about Dawn?” asked Willow.
“Dawn’s route was the easiest of all to decide. Luckily, unlike you, she is not too old for Hogwarts.”
(Jack Kirby – Captain America 211)
“…anyway, I could see that Buffy didn’t want any more questioning, so I made her invisible, and we went off. I had business in college, anyway.”
“You made her invisible? Aren’t you pushing things a bit?”
“Not real invisibility, Dawny. I just sort of reached out and hypnotized the people around so that they thought they couldn’t see her.”
“Yes, not too difficult. But still, Willow, I hope you’re not going to make it a habit of manipulating people’s minds.”
“But Giles! I didn’t even modify their memories… As soon as we left, they’ll have realized that we were there!”
“And that is any better? You’ll end up with a bunch of confused people, many of them quite angry!”
“Giles, please! What is this, a trial?”
Giles was concerned. It had happened before: him condemning Willow for abusing her power, and Willow refusing to listen. He did not like her using her power so casually, but liked even less the idea of another argument with her. He changed direction.
“Not really, no. Actually I wanted to talk about something quite different… Is Buffy coming?”
“Well…”
…………………………………………………………………….
Two hours before, Buffy and Willow were in the entrance hall of the college offices. Willow dropped a quick peck on Buffy’s cheek and headed towards the registration office. Buffy had asked her to be left alone for a bit; she wanted to think about what she was going to do.
Walking aimlessly down long, institutional corridors, she tried to concentrate on how she saw her future. Catch up with Dad would have been the most obvious path – were it not that she hated the skanky ho with whom he had hooked up (dropping Mom for that? Please, Dad, where’s your sense of taste?), and that she still had some anger against him to work out, mainly because of his failure to appear or get in touch when Mom died. Plus, he still knew nothing about her being the Slayer. It had been hard enough for Mom to accept; how was he going to deal?
Again, there was no real point to it. It’s all very well to say “catch up with Dad”, but it doesn’t tell you what to do with the rest of your life. Until now, you’ve been chained to the Hellmouth, unable to leave it even for a short vacation in case something dark and nasty decided it was the right time to make a snack of your friends and… well, your planet. You had to give up college and take a rubbish job in order to do your duty as a Slayer. But now you can do anything, Buffy Summers… anything except go home. What will you do?
Buffy looked around her, taking in the environment and the people. Some were nice, some were creepy; but neither they nor their environment inspired her. She had an instinctive feeling that she did not belong here. She was not, perhaps, a born scholar. Willow was: her eyes shone with enthusiasm at the mention of a new book, a new field of inquiry, a new and interesting theory. (And Buffy’s own eyes softened as the image of her friend passed for a moment through her mind, smiling and happy.) Buffy felt the same kind of mind in many of the people around her – that man with the glasses and fading brown beard, walking by at a swift pace, immersed in thought and with two ring files under his arm – that middle-aged woman with the elegantly cut tweeds, animatedly discussing something with a much younger man with a clever but ugly face – that fat, elderly, red-faced man with a permanent twinkle in his eyes, sitting down and looking at the people go by, taking her in too, as if he knew and understood exactly the sort of thing she was. Willow will be at home here, she thought ruefully – and yet with a kind of satisfaction for her friend; here, or anywhere else dedicated to study.
But I? Yes, it’s a quandary, really. I don’t want to be flipping burgers my whole life long; and now I no longer have to, either. I do need an education. But I have this feeling – what? I think it’s that I feel too old to be a student and too young to be a teacher. Someone once suggested that I go into law enforcement… it would sound better if I had a better opinion of the police. And Riley’s outfit is really too “guy” for feminine little old me; besides, I’m crap at following orders. And what about the Slayer? Is my work really over, and what about all those young girls whose powers are awakening within them now, and no guidance for them at all? The Council is destroyed; Giles and I, alone – or even with the help of Kennedy and the other former Potentials – can do nothing whatever to help them and guide them. Where in the world is such power? And it seems that one has already lost it. She’s lucky that she ran into me rather than Faith or Kennedy…
Suddenly Buffy stopped in her tracks. She turned left, opened a door – almost splintering the lock in her urgency, before she realized it was open. She stepped into a cavernous lecture theatre where two or three dozen people were sitting in a circle with instruments in their hands, listening to the one person who was standing.
“James, you have to try and put more body into the sound, beginning with the ninth bar after G. Remember, this needs to have impact. If you produce a thin reedy sound, it will kill the music at that point. All right, everybody? Now then, twentieth bar after F, one, two, three – who’s that?”
Buffy wished the ground would swallow her. “Hey, you! Who are you? Don’t you know rehearsals are private?”
“I d-d-didn’t know… I’m sorry… Can I stay, please? I won’t make any noise…”
“Well, really… All right, just this once. But don’t make a sound… And if I hear that any report of this rehearsal has ended up on the college paper, I’ll personally have you thrown off campus, whoever you are!”
Buffy sat down in the furthest possible seat, trying to make no more impression than a mouse. She had never even sat in on one of Oz’s rehearsals, let alone the complexities of a symphony orchestra; and she was fascinated. After a while, she managed to get a grip on the proceedings by going back to her amateur figure skating days – relating the music to motions of the human body, imagining how she would perform that passage and what it would mean to her. Eventually she realized that the rehearsal had ended. She made her way to the conductor.
“Look, I really want to apologize. I didn’t know anything about rehearsals – point of fact, I’ve never listened to this kind of music before.”
“Beginner, eh?” said the tall, gangling man, who, on close inspection, seemed to be something of an enthusiast for his subject. “I’ll excuse you, then. Was it really your first time?”
“Yes. I’m not even a student here… though I’m trying to make up my mind whether I want to join. That’s why I was wandering up and down the campus.”
“You look a year or two too old for a freshman.”
“I’m not. I used to study at UC Sunnydale, but you know what happened…”
“Yeah… the earthquake. Well, listen, if you join and want to hear some more good music, you’re welcome to sit in.”
“Thanks… sincerely. What was it you were rehearsing?”
“Dvorak’s Cello Concerto.”
……………………………………………………………………………………
“… I left Buffy in college. I wanted to get through all the formalities, and she said she had to think whether she wanted to go back to study at all.”
“I see. Well, I assume she’ll be joining us soon. Meanwhile, I think we can make a start.”
Spike, Anya, Xander, Dawn and Willow all turned to him. “You have to understand that what I am about to propose isn’t negotiable. You may accept it or you may reject it, but if it’s going to be done, it will be done as I set it out.”
“With Spike I’ve already spoken. As for the rest of you – let’s start with this. Willow?” – and he held out a white envelope to her.
Willow’s eyes grew huge and round, her face flushed, and her jaw almost fell. “B-but I thought I had already turned this down? I mean, isn’t it like I ruled myself out? Can I get a second shot?”
“Circumstances have changed. You stayed in Sunnydale to help the person you loved; but there is no more need of such heroic self-sacrifice. And I hardly have to remind you that an Oxford degree would do your career no harm.”
“A-are there witches in Oxford?”
“Less than in Oxnard, perhaps” – and Giles grinned at Xander, who on one famous occasion had mistaken the legendary English university with a Californian town – “But I think I can safely say that you will not find yourself alone. There are also some very active gay and lesbian groups.”
“B-but…”
“You see, Willow, I – and some friends – have been asking ourselves what we were to do with Buffy, with yourself, and, frankly, with me, once the menace of the Hellmouth was over. And it occurred to me that there were a considerable amount of things we could now do.
“One of them certainly is to get you an education worthy of you. The University of California is a first-rate institution, but…
Suddenly Buffy blew in like a gale. “I’ve got to speak with somebody! Is Giles here? Giles? Thank God I’ve found you!” Spike almost giggled at the interruption.
“Buffy?”
“Look, you remember that music from the sky that I kept hearing? I was on campus today and I heard something exactly like it, and it was –“ she took a piece of paper from her jeans pocket – “Dvorak’s Cello Concerto!” She mispronounced it horribly.
Buffy did not know what to expect from her friends; certainly not the complete and total anti-climax that followed. For a few seconds, nobody spoke – not because they were surprised, but because they found the fact simply uninteresting. Spike was the only one who even knew the music.
“Look, you guys don’t understand. I’ve been going crazy for days because I kept feeling that there was something I should be hearing, and now I’ve understood what it is, and nobody cares!”
“You’ve got to explain yourself a little better, you know, Buffy. When people hear classical music in the distance, it’s usually because someone else has their hi-fi on.”
“That’s just what I said”, added Anya.
Buffy felt like she might explode. “Are you being thick on purpose, or…?” She pulled herself together. “Okay. Okay. You cannot understand it yourselves. Take it from me, this thing is not someone’s radio in the distance. I’ve been hearing it for days, getting more and more distinct. And I didn’t say that it is Dvorak’s Cello Concerto; I said that it sounds just like it. I mean lots of strings and long tunes… and a general sense that you’re going somewhere.”
“Right,” said Giles, “at least that’s clearer now. And I’m sorry if I was a bit obstructive. But I still have to tell you that I cannot do much about it. If you could at least find out what the music actually is?”
“I think I’m going to try something, Giles.”
“Willow?” – and Giles looked at her with a worried surmise in his eyes; a surmise that did not only have to do with Buffy’s strange perceptions, but with the fear that any unprompted use of magic by Willow always aroused.
Still, what she said next was so harmless that his fear died down. “Yes. I mean, now we know what it is and what it sounds like, I can try and investigate, I mean do a reveal, on any sort of continuous magic wave activity… maybe I can identify what it is. It’s still long odds…”
“No reason not to try.”
“No, indeed”, said Buffy, who had visibly relaxed now that a course of action was being proposed.
“All right, then, do it. But later. Now there’s something else I’d like to discuss.” Giles had put on one of his rare authority modes.
“Discuss?”
“Giles says I should go to Oxford, Buffy. We were discussing it before you arrived.”
“Not just you. I think Buffy should come to England too. Although the Council is destroyed, there is in London the headquarters of a particular kind of worldwide magic police, for which I think she is unusually suited. How would you like to enforce magical law, Buffy? Chase transgressors across the world?”
“Well… I… but…”
“You remember Careers Week, Buffy? They said you were suited for law enforcement? And I think I could find the odd vampire or demon who’d say the same.”
“Yes, but…”
“Magical law enforcement is much more individualistic than the ordinary kind. Agents are allowed to act pretty much off their own head, and can set their own agendas in terms of what they pursue and how they pursue it – within limits, of course. But if I introduced you to one or two of my friends on the force, they would look more like pirates to you than policemen.”
“Uh...”
“Of course, it takes training, and training takes money. Which is why I said earlier that these proposals are non-negotiable: either you refuse them all, or you do as I say. I propose to set up three trust funds, one for each of you, to pursue your own education or training until you are able to earn your own living – oh, nothing lavish, but enough to avoid having a Slayer flipping burgers for a living. British universities aren’t used to that kind of thing; they expect you to dedicate your full working time to study.”
This time, Willow’s jaw did drop; and so did Buffy’s, Dawn’s, Xander’s, Anya’s and Spike’s. That Giles was rich was something that was generally understood, kept at the back of their minds among the other items of general knowledge. That he should consider supporting them on this fantastic scale – years of education for all of them, fully paid up – was something that had not even entered any of their brains. They knew, too, that if they indicated in any way how generous they thought this, he would change the subject. The only thing was to treat this as he obviously wanted it treated, as a plain business proposition. Unfortunately one or two of those present were not exactly born to be tactful -
“Well, after all, it’s only money, innit?”
“Yeah, well, Spike, I guess that if ain’t blood it don’t matter to you.”
“XANDER!” said Buffy in a forbidding voice, just in time to prevent some predictably gauche rejoinder by Anya. Then, to Giles: “I think it is an excellent idea, and it would certainly give me a direction I need.” She tried to hold her tone at the most even, businesslike and formal, and to avoid emotional outbursts that might have embarrassed this most open-handed of friends; he noticed, and was grateful. “I would however need to know more about this magical police force… And to sleep on it, perhaps?”
“Of course, of course. Another important thing I did not have the time to say… as I was saying, Willow, the University of California is a first-rate institution – but it does not teach magic. Now, you main subject in Oxford would be magic.”
“Oh… oh, I see. Then I guess I have to go really, don’t I? I mean, I do need to learn – not to go all crazy and veiny, or skanky and leathery and – oh, wait a minute” (and she giggled softly in her throat) “I am gay now…”
“You, Xander, already have a job and a career, and I gather you are not interested in further education. If by any chance you wished to come to Britain, however, I might be persuaded to invest in a building business run by you… there is plenty of construction work over there, including on my own estates. And in some cases” – he smiled slightly – “it might be useful to have a construction firm that is not surprised by magic…”
“I’ll think about it”, said Xander. All of three seconds, he thought; from the moment he understood that all his best friends were being offered lavish terms to leave the country, he had been turning over plans in his mind to go with them.
About Anya nobody spoke. There were painful pretences to be kept up in that area – such as that she was not still in love with Xander with all her heart and soul. If he came to Britain, everyone understood that she would follow.
Buffy’s heart was so full, she was near tears. Sitting on the floor with her legs folded under her, she could look at the tall figure of Giles from below – feeling like she was near a tower, a pillar. No matter where I came from, she thought in a rush of gratitude, this is my real father… this is the man to whom I owe my life and soul.
The she realized that there was one thing they had not asked about…But Willow got there first, by a millisecond.
“What about Dawn?” asked Willow.
“Dawn’s route was the easiest of all to decide. Luckily, unlike you, she is not too old for Hogwarts.”
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Date: 2005-05-07 11:53 am (UTC)