Ruby tears
05-09-04, 11:38
And another short Buffy story, again the beautiful Jenny Calendar was the inspiration along with the episode 'Passion' one of the best episodes I think. This time however a conventional pairing - Giles/Jenny. not as intense as Angel/Jenny, but cute instead. :) Anyone unfamilar with them - mostly what I've written explains but the one thing not mentioned that you really need to know is Jenny was killed by Angel then left for Giles to discover on his bed at his home. Any comments much appreciated.
Thanks,
~Ruby tears xxx
P.S. On the show Giles is very much a caricature of an Englishman and being English myself gives me unlimited permission to gently poke fun at us of here in the land of tea and rain! ;)
Gentlemanly Passion
The first thing Rupert Giles noticed about the land of tolerance was that it hurt his eyes, firstly the sunlight causing him to squint continually and then everything else; road signs, adverts everything. His English mind looked upon their gregarious displays with mild distaste; it seemed to him to show a distinct lack of restraint, just because they had so much space there was no need, surely, for everything to fill it by being so huge. He picked up his suitcase from the pavement where the taxi driver had deposited it or the cab driver on the sidewalk, whatever ludicrous name they gave them and he felt as though England would fit easily in his pocket.
Hours later he emerged from the headquarters of the American watchers’ council, which was decidedly smaller than the one back home.
"At least some thing is.” He thought.
They had assigned him to Sunnydale, a town rumoured to be situated on the Hellmouth, there he was to await the arrival of a certain Miss. Buffy Summers who was the slayer. A challenge of exciting proportions.
*
He looked into the bottom of his cup with a sigh; it was always a disappointment when he saw porcelain because it meant his cup of tea was finished. Somehow it always seemed to take him by surprise. This time is was really bad though because it was the last of his real tea bags, soon after moving to America he had discovered its distinct lack of tea bags, he could buy a bewildering number of different herbal teas, but ordinary English breakfast tea was an incredibly rare thing. He did not count Lipton’s yellow label as a proper tea bag, ghastly stuff. And he had just finished his last real tea bag from a specialist shop he had found. Now he would be cranky, as his esteemed slayer would put it.
He guessed he had been a little preoccupied recently, a dreamy lopsided smile spread across his careworn face as he thought of the cause of his lack of tea bags. He was sure that a distraction had never come with a more beguiling face. Miss. Jenny Calendar. She was a delicious combination of smooth white skin, smoky back eyes and shinny back hair which he was sure would feel like silk.
She had a mind as sharp as a razor and a tongue to match. She cut through the millions of long words he would babble in a tongue-tied attempt to speak to her, with a single no nonsense sentence. It would leave him with a confused smile and her with the sparks of amusement in her bright eyes. Giles looked once more into his empty cup, yes, she was loveliness personified.
Her interest in him had been one of the biggest surprises Sunnydale had offered him. She peered into his brain like an inquisitive child, opening the books in there, rifling through the pages and disturbing the dust that rose in clouds creating a teenager-like confusion in him. Giles was absolutely convinced that women had built in relationship manuals so they always knew exactly what to do, leaving the unguided men stunned and sat in the passenger seat of a speeding car with the woman behind the wheel.
Monster trucks for their second date had not been one of her best ideas though and it just underlined the differences between them; she was the computer science teacher at Sunnydale High and lived very much in that world, whereas he was the school librarian and lived, well, mostly in the past. The date might have been a disaster but in all honesty it hadn’t mattered, she was there with him and that was enough. He had all the entertainment he needed in contemplating the perfect arch of her eyebrow, the delicate flush on her cheek – like a pink rose petal. Oh he had watched the show, but only as a reflection in her midnight eyes.
He couldn’t believe he had hurt her, how could he forgive himself? His past, who he used to be had risen its ugly head and it was ugly – Ripper that’s who he once was, a dangerous, remorseless man who had dabbled stupidly in the occult. His dabbling had almost cost her life. The spark in her eyes no longer danced when she saw him, instead it fled and was swallowed by the darkness of her eyes and it nearly killed him. Once again he groped around in his mind for some sort of tome that would guide him, to tell him how to make the hurt in her eyes go away; but his certainty stood strong, men possessed no such book. Not even one as well read as Giles.
Then she had betrayed him too her name wasn’t Jenny Calendar but Janna of the Calderash gypsy people and she had been sent to watch Buffy and Angel. The strange thing was, the second after he had felt like he had been punched by her betrayal, he had looked into her beautiful eyes and forgiven her. He continued to keep his distance because Buffy, who was now like a daughter to him, was still in pain due to Jenny’s actions. But in his heart all was forgiven.
*
Her body arranged naturally on his bed, her eyes staring lifelessly at him, their spark lost eternally into the void. He lent against his bedroom wall and the transient scent of the rose he had taken in thinking she had left it for him, invaded his mind. How filled with a myriad of possibilities the world had seemed those few minutes before he had climbed the rose petal strewn stairs, opened his bedroom door and seen.
How he hated roses now, they had led him on a trail of death he had been tricked into believing was a trail of love. She’d loved him, she had told him so, and he had loved her too but had never told her. God he was a fool, a hesitant fool! All he could do was stare at her body as it ate away at his soul creating a void of consuming proportions. He wanted to gather her broken body into his arms and protect her from the world, but he had already failed in that task, it was too late. He stretched out a shaky hand towards her, he wanted to close her eyes he couldn’t bear their deadened stare. But he thought if he touched her and she was still warm he might allow his mind to trick him into thinking she was still alive – that her eyes would shine once more, laughing at him for being so silly to think death could actually conquer her.
Then the men came and put her in a body bag taking her from him forever. He supposed he must have called them but he couldn’t remember taking his eyes off her. He wondered if he would love her forever; forever just didn’t seem long enough.
~The End~
You can comment on my Fan Fiction in this thread.
Thanks,
~Ruby tears xxx
P.S. On the show Giles is very much a caricature of an Englishman and being English myself gives me unlimited permission to gently poke fun at us of here in the land of tea and rain! ;)
Gentlemanly Passion
The first thing Rupert Giles noticed about the land of tolerance was that it hurt his eyes, firstly the sunlight causing him to squint continually and then everything else; road signs, adverts everything. His English mind looked upon their gregarious displays with mild distaste; it seemed to him to show a distinct lack of restraint, just because they had so much space there was no need, surely, for everything to fill it by being so huge. He picked up his suitcase from the pavement where the taxi driver had deposited it or the cab driver on the sidewalk, whatever ludicrous name they gave them and he felt as though England would fit easily in his pocket.
Hours later he emerged from the headquarters of the American watchers’ council, which was decidedly smaller than the one back home.
"At least some thing is.” He thought.
They had assigned him to Sunnydale, a town rumoured to be situated on the Hellmouth, there he was to await the arrival of a certain Miss. Buffy Summers who was the slayer. A challenge of exciting proportions.
*
He looked into the bottom of his cup with a sigh; it was always a disappointment when he saw porcelain because it meant his cup of tea was finished. Somehow it always seemed to take him by surprise. This time is was really bad though because it was the last of his real tea bags, soon after moving to America he had discovered its distinct lack of tea bags, he could buy a bewildering number of different herbal teas, but ordinary English breakfast tea was an incredibly rare thing. He did not count Lipton’s yellow label as a proper tea bag, ghastly stuff. And he had just finished his last real tea bag from a specialist shop he had found. Now he would be cranky, as his esteemed slayer would put it.
He guessed he had been a little preoccupied recently, a dreamy lopsided smile spread across his careworn face as he thought of the cause of his lack of tea bags. He was sure that a distraction had never come with a more beguiling face. Miss. Jenny Calendar. She was a delicious combination of smooth white skin, smoky back eyes and shinny back hair which he was sure would feel like silk.
She had a mind as sharp as a razor and a tongue to match. She cut through the millions of long words he would babble in a tongue-tied attempt to speak to her, with a single no nonsense sentence. It would leave him with a confused smile and her with the sparks of amusement in her bright eyes. Giles looked once more into his empty cup, yes, she was loveliness personified.
Her interest in him had been one of the biggest surprises Sunnydale had offered him. She peered into his brain like an inquisitive child, opening the books in there, rifling through the pages and disturbing the dust that rose in clouds creating a teenager-like confusion in him. Giles was absolutely convinced that women had built in relationship manuals so they always knew exactly what to do, leaving the unguided men stunned and sat in the passenger seat of a speeding car with the woman behind the wheel.
Monster trucks for their second date had not been one of her best ideas though and it just underlined the differences between them; she was the computer science teacher at Sunnydale High and lived very much in that world, whereas he was the school librarian and lived, well, mostly in the past. The date might have been a disaster but in all honesty it hadn’t mattered, she was there with him and that was enough. He had all the entertainment he needed in contemplating the perfect arch of her eyebrow, the delicate flush on her cheek – like a pink rose petal. Oh he had watched the show, but only as a reflection in her midnight eyes.
He couldn’t believe he had hurt her, how could he forgive himself? His past, who he used to be had risen its ugly head and it was ugly – Ripper that’s who he once was, a dangerous, remorseless man who had dabbled stupidly in the occult. His dabbling had almost cost her life. The spark in her eyes no longer danced when she saw him, instead it fled and was swallowed by the darkness of her eyes and it nearly killed him. Once again he groped around in his mind for some sort of tome that would guide him, to tell him how to make the hurt in her eyes go away; but his certainty stood strong, men possessed no such book. Not even one as well read as Giles.
Then she had betrayed him too her name wasn’t Jenny Calendar but Janna of the Calderash gypsy people and she had been sent to watch Buffy and Angel. The strange thing was, the second after he had felt like he had been punched by her betrayal, he had looked into her beautiful eyes and forgiven her. He continued to keep his distance because Buffy, who was now like a daughter to him, was still in pain due to Jenny’s actions. But in his heart all was forgiven.
*
Her body arranged naturally on his bed, her eyes staring lifelessly at him, their spark lost eternally into the void. He lent against his bedroom wall and the transient scent of the rose he had taken in thinking she had left it for him, invaded his mind. How filled with a myriad of possibilities the world had seemed those few minutes before he had climbed the rose petal strewn stairs, opened his bedroom door and seen.
How he hated roses now, they had led him on a trail of death he had been tricked into believing was a trail of love. She’d loved him, she had told him so, and he had loved her too but had never told her. God he was a fool, a hesitant fool! All he could do was stare at her body as it ate away at his soul creating a void of consuming proportions. He wanted to gather her broken body into his arms and protect her from the world, but he had already failed in that task, it was too late. He stretched out a shaky hand towards her, he wanted to close her eyes he couldn’t bear their deadened stare. But he thought if he touched her and she was still warm he might allow his mind to trick him into thinking she was still alive – that her eyes would shine once more, laughing at him for being so silly to think death could actually conquer her.
Then the men came and put her in a body bag taking her from him forever. He supposed he must have called them but he couldn’t remember taking his eyes off her. He wondered if he would love her forever; forever just didn’t seem long enough.
~The End~
You can comment on my Fan Fiction in this thread.