Work Text:
Taken Away
by Lucinda
11: 48
In the basement, Andrew looked over at Warren and Jonathan. "Don't you two get it? Buffy is almost useless without someone to direct her. She's like a loaded weapon, the real danger is in who's aiming her."
"And just who is aiming her? Because she's pretty effective." Warren grumbled.
"Rupert Giles." Andrew smiled, feeling triumphant. "And I have a plan to get rid of him."
Jonathan just groaned.
* * *
Across Sunnydale, there was a gust of wind, and a scattering of silver dust was left in the suddenly empty apartment of Rupert Giles, curtains fluttering sadly.
"What the..." Giles spun around, glaring at the assortment of little goblins that were lurking around the room. "Why am I here?"
"Rupert... you know how it works. You know exactly how it works. Some twerp wished you away, so here you are." The smug voice could only belong to one entity.
"Yes, yes... I know the rules." With a sigh, Rupert pulled the glasses from his face, tucking them neatly into his pocket. "On the bright side, this does spare me from hearing yet another episode of that appalling show."
Chuckling, Jareth shook his head. "Come on, sit down, have a peach."
Accepting, Rupert bit deeply into the succulent fruit. "They're better here than anywhere else."
"Of course they are." The Goblin King sounded almost offended, and smiled again. "So, are you still playing at being a Watcher?"
"I wouldn't call it playing. Buffy has done some very important things." He shook his head, wondering if this would lead to yet another argument.
"Buffy? Who names their daughter Buffy?" There was a chuckle, and a flicker of magic as a crystal globe formed, showing an image of Buffy Summers, currently patrolling in a cemetery.
"Actually..." Rupert commented, "I'm more curious about who wanted me gone."
"Pffft." With a dismissive gesture, another globe was formed, showing three young men in a basement, surrounded by an astonishing assortment of clutter. "One of those three."
"I suppose I'll have to deal with them later." He sighed, letting the globe float up, and creating another two before starting to juggle them. "How have things been here?"
"About the same, actually. Nobody particularly interesting since that girl Sarah, and just... goblins squabbling and tracking mud into the hall." A small shrug. "Has your father stopped repressing yet?"
"No." Rupert smirked, the memory bright in his mind. "He's still firmly insisting that mother just comes from a quiet family in the country. A bit eccentric, but... human. I don't think he's bothered trying to explain why her family never sends Christmas cards."
"I'll never understand what she sees in him." The crystal sphere began to circle on it's own as Jareth bit into a peach. "Why not someone less stuffy, or at least more accepting?"
Smiling, Rupert looked over, offering up something that Buffy had once said. "In the words of Buffy, Love makes you do the wacky. I think it means that love causes strange things, and is often inexplicable."
"Absolutely." Scowling, another bite was torn from the peach. "You should visit more often."
"I've been busy." Rupert mumbled, feeling oddly guilty.
"Busy. I shouldn't have to answer someone' s wish to visit my grandson!" Jareth glared at him, one hand drumming against he chair. "Why don't you teach that red head a few useful things, and leave her there to keep an eye on things for a few days. You could come here and stay a while."
"Willow is powerful, but she often lacks wisdom." Rupert sighed. "Unpredictable things could happen... again."
"You say that as if unpredictability is a bad thing." Jareth chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't get too human on me."
"Yes, well... Over a Hellmouth, unpredictable is almost always bad. And I've been trying to keep anyone from figuring out that I'm not simply a stuffy British Watcher."
"You're my grandson, and born to a portion of Fae power. You should be able to deal with anything that place can throw at you."
"The physical hasn't been the problem." Rupert sighed finishing his peach.
"It's the emotional that gets to me."
"Ahhh... isn't it always." Jareth sighed, tossing another peach towards his grandchild. "Well, at least I've got you her for a while."
"But... you aren't going to turn me into a goblin." Rupert frowned, not quite glaring.
"Don't be silly. But there are rules, and you, my boy, are here for the next twelve and three quarter hours. So... how have things been lately?" Jareth smiled, a goblet of something dark amber appearing in his hand.
"Yes, that might be long enough to catch up on everything...." Rupert sighed.
12: 08.
end Taken Away