Buffy and Giles ReVamp'd / Life Goes On

CHAPTER FOUR The Daily Soaps

Dawn!

The cry rang out loud and strong, its urgency piercing through walls and the closed barrier of the bathroom door. When there was no reply, Buffy inhaled deeply, forcing her words from a deeper part of her diaphragm.

Dawn, the bus will be here any minute now, and you haven't even started breakfast. So get your butt in gear and move it!

Sheesh! Why the panic? There was an irritable edge sharpening the teen's response. I've still got fifteen minutes.

I don't want to be late for your first day of school.

There was no answer from Dawn. Turning away with a resigned sigh, Buffy made the trek across her apartment to start breakfast.

They were entering the fifth week out from Sunnydale's untimely destruction. The practicalities of everyday existence had begun to reassert itself into their lives. Only days before they had left behind their former temporary housing, trading up to bigger and slightly better digs. While the new place was far superior to the old, the same problem still remained to plague them. Thanks to the mass exodus from the Hellmouth, there simply wasn't enough housing in the area.

Still, a bedroom separate from the main living space was a relief after living in a single room for so long. The addition of a kitchenette brought the opportunity for extra food storage and the preparation meals, as well as the possibility of some savings to Giles' budget.

As Buffy had requested, Giles found a series of suites near each other within the same complex. Again, it was nothing fancy, but at least this time they weren't crammed in on top of each other, and there was some hope for privacy. Dawn and Buffy's apartment actually had separate bedrooms for the sisters, while Xander and Andrew each got their own residence on opposite ends of the complex. Willow and Kennedy still shared accommodations, their new living quarter only one door down from the slayer.

While Giles eventually agreed to invest in an actual house at some point, for the immediate duration he remained close by the rest of the Scoobies. His flat, as he often referred to his rooms, was almost directly across the parking lot from the new Summers' lodgings. Buffy could check up on the Watcher whenever she wanted, taking security in the presence of the Brit's rental car parked out front in plain sight at all time.

Once the craziness of moving had settled down, Principal Wood stopped by for a visit. He announced his intentions to move on as well, and to everyone's surprise, Faith was going with him, making the pair an official item. Buffy wished her slayer compatriot the very best, sending her off without animosity or regret. She knew Faith would have a tough enough time just staying ahead of the law. Maybe, with Wood's guidance, she would be able to straighten out her life. If she could keep her life on the straight and narrow, she might have an actual future ahead of her, one where she could be an example worthy of the respect of the other younger slayers.

New lives meant new routines for everyone involved, and Dawn was going through her share of changes as well. After Buffy's discussion with Giles, she had sought out Willow to help research various school districts in the area. Westcliffe High came back with the highest marks all around. Against her sister's protests, Dawn was promptly enrolled in the special summer program, and arrangements were made for the bus to pick her up at their new home.

Today was Dawn's first day of summer classes. As Buffy waited for her sister to finish in the bathroom, she puttered around in the kitchenette in search of something for breakfast. Pickings were slim. A partial jar of peanut butter, a lone packet of instant oatmeal, and a box of unopened Pop Tarts. There bread for sandwiches, and the fridge produced a mere half glass of juice. Setting out the juice in a cup, Buffy grabbing a paper plate from a pile kept out on the counter. Ripping open one of The Pop Tarts packs, she dumped the pastries out onto the dish and cast a critical eye over the poor excuse for a breakfast.

Time to hit up Giles for food funds, she muttered to herself. The cupboards are beginning to look like Mother Hubbard's moved in with us.

Time continued to tick away without any sign of her sister. Crossing to the window that overlooked the parking lot, she peeked through the drapes to see several younger school-aged people beginning to gather at the entry to the complex.

Dawn! Her voice meant business now. The teen was pushing the limits of time, as well as her patience. I swear, if you miss the bus, I'm going to…

Do what? Dawn demanded, strolling calmly into the room. Drive me to school? You don't have a car, and even if you did, you'd probably get us both killed with your crazy driving.

Oh, I know, she continued on with her litany of impossible self-aggrandizing reasons. You’ll make me walk to school. Not! The place is like a hundred miles away, and it'll be noon before I get there. Or here's an idea. I could just hitch a ride from the first stranger I flag down.

She glared at her sibling, haughtily gloating, knowing Buffy would never allow any of those things to happen.

Giles has a car. He can drive you there, Buffy smugly returned, drawing forth her final trump. She knew the last thing Dawn would want was her friends seeing her in the company of a grown-up like the Brit.

Fine. You win, Dawn pouted, conceding the victory to her sibling. I'm here.

And so is the bus, Buffy said, glancing out the window again. As the yellow vehicle bounced over the curb, she scooped up s Pop Tarts from the plate, and thrust it in Dawn's direction. Here. You can eat and run for the bus at the same time.

Mumbling through a mouthful of crumbs, Dawn snatched up the backpack waiting by the entry. She grabbed her purse, and running out the door, slamming it loudly after her heels.

From the window's vantage, Buffy watched her sister join the line of other students waiting to get on the bus. She was immediately accosted by her Sunnydale friend, and it was obvious from the pair's gestures that they were involved in an animated discussion. They continued to talk as they got onto the bus, and possibly long after as the vehicle finally pulled away.

With Dawn safely on her way, Buffy returned to the kitchen. She stared at the lone Pop Tart still sitting on the plate, and with a shrug, she picked it up and began to nibble. No use in wasting perfectly good calories, especially when there was little else in the house to eat.

Buffy carried the pastry with her as she began the day's chores. She felt it was important to keep a routine. She started by making the beds, tossing the sheets and covers neatly into place, The pillows got a fluff, and with a final smoothing of all the wrinkles, she pronounced the result satisfactory and moved on to the next thing.

One by one, she ticked her way down through her list of tasks. Clean the bathroom. Tidy the living area. Vacuum the rugs. Take out the trash. It wasn't long before she had frittered away a good hour¸ and she was ready to start the job she dreaded most.

The laundry.

The sisters were running low on clean clothing. If she didn't want Dawn going to school in the same stinky outfit, then laundry was definitely the order of the day.

Rustling up the big plastic basket she carried to the laundry, Buffy gathered all the dirty clothes she could find, and tossed them into her container. Some of the items had been sitting around for a while, and included items worn during several sweaty workouts, as well as a day of record heat. A final search through the closet and under the beds picked up a few things she had missed, then collecting a bottle of detergent, she headed for the apartment's exit with the overflowing basket in arm.

She pocketed a fistful of quarters from a mug on the kitchen counter, enough to do several loads of washing and drying. Breathing a resigned sigh, she carried her load out of the apartment, and began the trek across the nearly empty parking lot.

The dark tarmac radiated with waves of heat, distorting the area above the ground in a shimmering optical illusion. Buffy hesitated a moment before stepping out into the sunny open. It was looking like it would be another beautiful hot California day.

From the next unit over came the whining creak of a door opening. Willow's face appeared wearing a friendly smile as she greeted her best friend, noting the basket that Buffy carried.

Laundry day?

Yesterday was laundry day, the blonde replied. But I didn't have enough quarters to do a load, so today is 'cripes, I really need to do the laundry 'cause we're running out of stuff to wear'.

Yeah, I hate that day, too, Willow replied.

Where's Kennedy? Buffy asked. The other slayer was usually somewhere nearby Willow.

She had to go in to work this morning, Willow explained. Someone called in sick at the last minute and they were short a body. It's for just a few hours. She should be home any time now.

To help defray costs, and provide the two women with some spending cash, Kennedy had decided to get a job. It was only part-time. She worked for a rival motel chain, one of the bigger franchised establishments. She helped go set up the complementary breakfast bar in the morning, keeping the area clean and the various food and beverage stations stocked. It wasn't glamorous work, but a perk of the job was taking home any day old donuts, and leftover food. Kennedy and Willow could always count on a steady supply of powdered eggs and crunchy granola.

Give me a minute, and I'll get my stuff, too, Willow said. We can do dueling dryers.

What about Kennedy?

I'll leave her a note. Maybe she'll have something yummy today, like muffins. I'm willing to share the bounty with a friend.

Anything would be better than the Pop Tart I had earlier.

The red-head disappeared into her apartment. A few minutes later she returned with her own full basket, and locking her door, joined Buffy in the walk to the laundry room across the way.

Where's Giles? Willow asked, continuing the conversation. I thought the two of you were going to spend the day brainstorming that Slayer School thing again.

He called, and said that something came up.

I thought he was all psyched up about your new training schedule? I heard him talking with the manager the other day. He was trying to make some sort of arrangement to use the garage for a gym.

They had reached the laundry. Using her key card, Buffy opened the door, letting them both inside. Dropping their baskets onto the provided table, the two women set about separating their laundry.

At least he's not trying to get me to patrol back in Sunnydale again. You should have seen him that night, Will, Buffy continued, stuffing her first load into a washing machine. Giles was all stealth mode, giving the cops the slip. The man seriously needs to get a life. Preferably his own seeing as mine's already taken.

She added detergent into the washer, and fed the hungry machine a handful of quarters to start it.

Giles does seem a bit more strung out than usual, Willow noted, shadowing her friend's routine with her own laundry. I blame the need factor. Since we all sort of bailed on you over the whole Spike deal, he's been feeling a little useless. It's like this uber-mother hen gene got suddenly awakened, and he feels he has to look out for everybody. Only now, with most of the slayers gone, there aren't so many of us everybodies any more. Not that I'm complaining, she continued, scooting up onto the table to sit. Having our very own British Daddy Warbucks doling out fistfuls of cash for the asking isn't exactly a bad thing.

Buffy made herself comfortable next to her friend. The room was warm, the air thick with moisture, a contingent which had led to rust on more than a few of the appliances. At some point an attempt had been made to stall the metal termite's progress with spray paint, the resulting effect less than aesthetic¸ and a mild annoyance to Buffy.

Conversation continued between the girls as they waited for the machines to do their work. As they talked, Buffy idly watched her clothes through the washer's glass window. The soapy outfits rolled over in a circular tangle, creating a hypnotic kaleidoscope of color as they spun round and around. She made a game of it, trying to pick out one particular item, tracking it with her eyes through the sudsy ocean, anticipating where it would show up next.

They had finished their first loads, transferring their wet clothes over to some dryers when Kennedy popped in to make an appearance. She sidled up to her partner at the folding table, giving Willow a quick hug and a kiss.

And how was your morning, Willow asked, making small talk.

Not too bad Kennedy returned. She picked up a clean T-shirt and began folding. They had some big business conference booked at the hotel. Lots of people. Lots of mess.

No muffins then? Willow pouted.

No muffins. But I did bring back some tiny donuts. The ones covered with powdered sugar. You like those.

I love those! Willow emphasized with cheery enthusiasm. Oooo! Guess what! Today's a vacation day for Buffy. She says Giles is out doing stuff.

That was the plan, Buffy admitted. But something came up.

You guys aren't giving up on the slayer school, are you? It's a great idea. I thought Giles sounded like he was completely on board. What gives?

Buffy shrugged. She thought Giles had been pretty excited about her idea, too. The Watcher had met with her over several days, the two of them hashing over a possible curriculum for the school. It was all part of the proposal they were writing, a necessary step to securing funds for their project, which they would need to present before any possible lenders were to take their idea seriously.

They had settled on the core points of the plan. Buffy would be the main instructor. Giles insisted that her example was key. Classes would be small so that personal attention could be given to each girl in hopes of establishing a level of intimacy to their slayer training that had never before been achieved.

Willow became thoughtful for a moment. Maybe Giles just needed the afternoon off, she hopefully postulated. He's probably just putting in some quality time with his books. We have been pushing him pretty hard lately. Getting everybody moved in to their new digs. Driving us all around. Maybe he just needed some 'me alone' time.

I'm sure that's all it is, Buffy agreed. Or maybe he's taking a nap. I swear he never sleeps anymore.

That's not good for someone his age. Isn't he like fifty? Kennedy asked. That's really getting up there.

Giles doesn't need sleep like the rest of us normal people, Buffy returned with great seriousness. He can go for days without anything more than a cat nap. It's one of his secret Watcher superpowers.

Watchers have superpowers? Kennedy queried. She looked at Willow. Is she serious?

About Giles not needing sleep? Maybe just a little, Willow confirmed. Giles' real superpower is when gets into serious book mode. Her tone had adopted a deep pseudo vocce used through decades to introduce those with enhanced abilities. Faster than a speeding addendum. More powerful than a monograph. It's 'Research Man'! Yeah, the book thing. Definitely a superpower.

Kennedy's expression continued to register disbelief. Watcher superpowers, she snorted derisively. If they're so great, how come I've never heard of them before?

That' 'cause they're secret Watcher superpowers, Buffy explained, emphasizing the key word.

Oh, secret superpowers! Kennedy rolled her eyes. That makes all the difference.

Unbelievable secret superpowers, Buffy corrected, keeping an absolutely straight face. Ever wonder how Giles puts up with all those female multi-generational slayer issues that we throw at him? Superpowers. Trust me, you don't learn that kind of stuff with just training. And then there's the tea thing. That's one of the really big ones.

Kennedy scowled, adding another garment to the growing pile of folded shirts. Tea thing? Okay, I'll bite. What's the tea thing?

Giles has the preternatural ability to consume extremely large quantities of tea non-stop during the course of the day.

The other slayer gave out with a scolding raspberry. Now I know you're pulling my leg. Drinking tea isn't a superpower. Especially not for Giles. He's British. Drinking tea is like some sort of prerequisite to citizenship for Queen and country.

True, Buffy agreed. The drinking part isn't what's so super. But the never stopping to have to use the bathroom for like…forever! She gave an emphatic nod. Definitely a superpower. Trust me. There isn't a human bladder designed that can process and hold that much liquid without hourly potty breaks.

Plus, Willow added. Tea is a diuretic.

For a brief moment the trio stared at each other without a sound passing between them. That didn't last. Almost in unison, Buffy and Willow burst into gales of laughter, nearly doubling under the force. Realizing she was the butt of some long standing joke, Kennedy shook her head, admitting defeat.

Real funny, guys, she sneered. You two are hilarious. An impish grin teased at her lips, a flash of vengeful retaliation glimmering in her eye. I bet Giles will think it's funny, too.

Her announcement immediately silenced the other women. Willow gulped nervously, giving rise to a pleading smile.

You…you wouldn't really tell him, she ventured timorously. Would you?

She wouldn't dare,” Buffy confidently chuffed, giving the other slayer a gloating eye. Just because we all lived smooshed next to Giles in one little house, it doesn't mean she knows him well enough to talk that kind of personal bathroom stuff. Her attitude held convicted confidence, but her words were shadowed by a hint of doubt as she returned her companion's steely gaze.

Just try me, Kennedy challenged, her own eye glinting with a mischievous taunt.

Don't do it, Buffy, Willow hissed. She twitched nervously, grabbing her friend's arm as she leaned in closer to punctuate her warning. I've played Truth or Dare with her. You have no idea what fiendishness Kennedy is capable of when the Gauntlet of Dare is thrown down. Things never end pretty.

I'd listen to her if I were you, Kennedy returned. She crossed her arms across her chest, staring with calm menace at the other slayer. While you may be the original Chosen One, I'm one of the newer and improved wave of slayers, and you'll find we're a force to be reckoned with.

Just keep telling yourself that, Buffy snipped, but there was no true animosity in her tone as she dismissed her friend's threat. You may believe it. You might even get Willow to say she believes it. But as the original slayer I will always hold an advantage none of you will ever have.

And what's that?

Buffy smiled, remaining enigmatically silent. She returned to folding her clothes, but there was an unmistakable air of assurance to her person.

Gathering up their share of the laundry, Willow filled her basket with the folded clothing. She gave a nudge to her girlfriend's side, handing over the heavy pannier. With a jerk of her head, she invited her lover to follow as she led the way to the exit.

Call me later, she instructed Buffy. Her friend nodded, and Kennedy and Willow walked out the door, leaving their companion to finish her chores alone.

However, Kennedy was not willing to let the conversation die. As they crossed the parking lot toward their home¸ she once again questioned her partner.

What did she mean? Kennedy demanded. What advantage?

Willow smiled. She unlocked the door to their suite, and looping an arm around her lover's shoulders, guided her gently through the doorway. Buffy will always be Giles' favorite slayer. That's the biggest advantage there is, and in the end, she's the only one that really counts.