VII

It took almost two hours to get to Oxford, but the time seemed to go quickly. It was a bright, early spring day and the earlier fog and chill had burned off into the bluest sky Buffy had ever seen. As a native Angelino, blue sky was one of those things she'd thought was a myth. And while the sky in Sunnydale was frequently blue, it was never as crystalline as the blueness above Oxford.

Giles seemed to get happier as they neared his old stomping grounds. And if he still looked a little pale and buggy-eyed as a result of his binge last night, at least his eyes themselves no longer looked so sad and haunted. There was a sparkle in them, just as there was an ease to his smile. He was taking a walk down memory lane; she could tell he was looking forward to it.

"Will anything be open on Sunday?" she asked.

"Enough," he answered. "It is a college town, so it supports its students all year round. The classroom buildings won't be open, but the quads always are and the Bodleian will be open this afternoon."

"What's the Bodleian?"

"The Bodleian Library, one of the pre-eminent academic libraries in the world."

"Library," she muttered. "What a surprise."

He chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find the Bodleian to be quite different from our little library back home. Besides, could you possibly go back home and tell Willow you'd been to Oxford but hadn't seen the Bodleian?"

"Good point," she conceded. "I wish I had a camera, we could capture the moment for posterity."

He smiled. "You'll just have to remember and tell her all about it when you get home."

The conversation ceased for several more miles until they got to the Oxford city limits.

"It's been about five years since I was last here," Giles said, driving through the town. "I don't doubt things will have changed." He pulled into a large parking lot near the train station. "Are you up to doing some walking?"

She made a face. "How far?"

"A few blocks to the high street, a few more to the Colleges. But we can park here all day for free."

"Free's good," she agreed and they climbed out.

They strolled through town to the main shopping district, Giles pointing out this place or that. He took her to a little fish and chip stand he remembered from when he was a student here, and bought for her the traditional greasy fish wrapped in newspaper. Buffy was less than impressed, though at least she could get a diet Coke here. Giles, on the other hand, ate his fish with relish, and even ate her fries. Except he called them chips. And he put vinegar on them, which she tried but thought was really gross.

It was weird, seeing Giles here. He was almost bubbling with energy as he talked, telling her of the time he'd spent here. It was like she was seeing the real man, not the watcher, and not during a time of crisis, either. She decided she liked it.

"Of course, a lot has changed," he was saying. "I've been back for visits since then, but it's been more than ten years since I lived here."

"What year did you graduate?"

"1980, but then I went on for my advanced degree."

"What's your degree in?" she asked, realizing she had no idea.

He looked down briefly, as if embarrassed. "Actually, I have three. History, languages and Library Science. Plus a certificate which qualifies me to teach up to the undergrad level."

"Wow, really? Did you ever want to be a teacher?"

"Briefly," he grimaced. "Until I did some student teaching and realized I hated it."

"'Cause I think you'd be a good teacher. You always explain things so people can understand them."

"I wouldn't mind doing seminars or tutoring-small groups," he agreed, eating the last of her fries. "It's the classroom work I don't care for. That sort of structure. And high school teaching is, if you'll forgive me, more babysitting than anything else."

Mostly, she thought high school was more like punishment, with teachers who didn't care and work that was boring or pointless or both. But occasionally, she'd had a teacher who cared, who actually encouraged her and made her think. Then it could be fun.

They finished lunch and headed out into the sunshine, strolling down the high street toward the Colleges.

"Have you given much thought to what you'll do after high school?" he asked.

"That assumes I'll graduate," Buffy said with a grimace.

"Do you think that'll be a problem?"

"It will be if Snyder has anything to do with it. He's just begging for the chance to kick me out."

"I mean besides Snyder."

"If he kicks me out, there is no besides Snyder."

"I don't doubt he goes out of his way to antagonize you, but I suspect that's just how Herr Snyder gets his jollies."

She couldn't help snickering.

"No," he went on, "I think if he'd been serious about expelling you he'd have done it before now. But the fact is, he has no proof of anything. You're frequently in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he's never actually seen you do any of the so-called crimes he's accused you of."

"Gee, lucky me," Buffy scowled.

He reached for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "If push ever came to shove, we'd find a way to deal with Snyder, don't worry."

"I don't know," she sighed. "It's hard to think about the future sometimes. I know Willow's starting to look at colleges, but I just can't. I mean, what would be the point? I'm stuck in Sunnydale, doing slayage."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," he said. "Right now Sunnydale's going through an, um, active phase. But that hasn't always been the case, and there's no reason to assume that the present level of activity will last forever. The slayer goes where she's most needed. Right now that's Sunnydale. In the future, who knows?"

"But meaning that wherever I go, it'll be because I have to, not because I want to."

He didn't have an answer to that and they walked in silence for several minutes.

Buffy always got depressed whenever she considered her future, or lack thereof. Maybe she should have let Kendra take over earlier this year when she'd had the chance. But the truth was, the slayer wasn't just what she did, it was who she was. And it took the risk of losing it to Kendra to realize how much it meant to her, how much she defined herself by that one thing.

Besides, giving it up would have meant giving up Giles, and she didn't want to do that. If she quit, he'd be so disappointed in her, even more than he already....

She bit off that thought before it could fully form. He said he didn't blame her, that it wasn't her fault.

But it was.

She sighed wearily and he squeezed her hand again reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't intended to stir up muddy waters," he said gently.

She attempted to smile. "Doesn't take much these days."

He stopped, his hands on her shoulders gently. "This is supposed to be our day off. No depressing thoughts, for either of us."

"So," she gazed up at him, "cheer me up."

He paused for a moment, then smiled. "All right." He took her hand, leading her through the streets.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see."

A few blocks off the center of town, he turned and ducked down an alley. Then through a covered walkway. And finally into a doorway into what looked like a garage.

Once inside, he stopped, smiling. "Here we are."

Buffy stared. "Oh, wow!" The interior of the garage had been transformed into a kind of flea-market. Booths selling everything from books to jewelry to meats and cheeses, fruit, clothing, and, of course, souvenirs and trinkets which ranged from wonderful to sincerely scary. Perfect.

"I do want to get over to the Bodleian, but we have some time to wander in here if you'd like," he told her. "A lot of the students shop here because you can get just about anything, and usually fairly cheap."

Buffy grinned and together they started down one of the labyrinthian aisles. Some of the booths, she noticed, were permanent, with doors and windows and lights and everything.

"Is this always here?" she asked.

"Has been for over two hundred years. The city fathers set it up as a place for small sellers, because they didn't want pushcarts in the streets. But as you see, it's far more than pushcarts now."

She shook her head. "I'm still hung up on the two hundred years thing. I mean, nothing back home is that old."

He smiled. "In England one gets used to things being old. Just as in America one gets used to things being...large."

Buffy smiled. Leave it to Giles to sum things up so well.

They stopped at one booth, Buffy admiring some earrings. She saw one pair she especially liked, but when she reached for her wallet, she stopped.

"Oh, rats."

"What?"

"I never got any money changed."

He frowned. "What about those traveler's checks I gave you?"

"That's your money."

He smiled kindly. "That's ours for the trip, Buffy. If you'd like to buy those earrings, you may."

She opened her mouth in surprise, then closed it again. She didn't want to spend all his money. "We should save that in case we need it."

He sighed, exasperated. "You pick now to suddenly become frugal?" He took the earrings out of her hand, gave them to the clerk, along with the money to cover them. "There's a time for watching pennies, Buffy. This isn't one of them. Within reason, if you want to do some shopping, you may. We can swing it."

"Yeah, but with what this trip is costing you...."

"I can manage a few trinkets. Besides, I'll be getting the proceeds from the house and contents, eventually. It'll all work out." He got his change back, and held the earrings out to her. "There. These will look very nice."

She smiled up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. She knew what the airfare alone had cost him, and though she didn't know what he made, she was pretty sure he had to be feeling the pinch. "Thanks," she said softly, "you're so sweet."

"You're welcome," he smiled in return and offered her his arm, leading her on to the next booth.

They strolled arm in arm through the market for over an hour. Buffy bought a very cool Oxford t-shirt for Xander, but didn't see anything she especially wanted for Willow.

"Wait 'til we get to the Bodleian," Giles suggested.

She made a face. "A library has a store?"

"It's a very famous library," he insisted as they left the market, turning back toward the Colleges. Since it was Sunday, none of the buildings were open, but they still spent several minutes sitting in the quad of University College, silently at first, then Giles talking softly about his time here. He'd been very happy here, she could tell. Once he'd returned to Oxford, after his rebellion, he'd thrown himself wholeheartedly into academia, finally taking his studies-and his calling-to heart.

She suddenly realized he'd stopped talking and she looked up. He was gazing at her.

"I'm boring you; I'm sorry," he said. "I suppose... The memories are very strong here."

"It's okay. It makes me wonder if I could have gone to college someplace like this."

"You can."

"You're assuming again that I'll actually graduate from high school."

"Yes, I am. And you will." He stood up and offered her his hand. "Come on, I want to get to the Bodleian before it closes."

The Bodleian Library was huge-a great gothic building with an impressive facade. Inside was, as Giles had promised, a small gift shop, and Buffy bought for Willow a little blank book with famous quotations in the corners of the pages, and an old sketch of the library on the cover.

Purchase made, Giles led her to the main desk, pulling out a card and showing it to the man seated there.

"This is my step-daughter, from America," he said, and she was surprised, but pleased, at how easily the lie came to him. "It's her first trip to England and I'd like to show her the library."

"Oh?" the attendant asked, "are you interested in libraries, miss?"

"Oh yeah, I spend a lot of time in libraries back home," Buffy answered. Well, it was the truth. She did spend a lot of time in libraries. She just didn't do the book thing.

"Well, sir, this is a bit unusual. We have set tours during the week, but ordinarily we don't allow tourists in the reading room."

"Yes, I know. But I do need to get a little work done, and I can't just let her wander on her own. Not in an unfamiliar city."

"Of course, sir." The attendant then extracted from Giles a visitor's fee, which Buffy thought was pretty steep for a quick peek around a library, and after signing the book, they were allowed to enter the main reading room.

It was huge-large wooden tables with green-shaded lamps, wooden shelves, paneling and railings, a balcony which went all the way around. There were quite a number of people studying. Buffy had assumed they'd all be college-aged, but there was everybody-from college guys to old guys. There were girls, too, but more guys.

It was impressive, but.... But it was really just another library.

Giles, meanwhile, was standing next to her, breathing deeply, as if he could absorb the library "vibes". Finally, he looked at her. "I really do want to look up a couple of sources. Will you be all right?"

"Don't suppose they've got magazines," she wondered hopefully.

"Actually, yes, there is a recreational reading room. I'll take you there."

The room in question was quite a bit smaller than the main room, but was equipped with large overstuffed leather chairs and sofas.

"I doubt they'll have Vogue," Giles said, "but I'm sure you can find something to...."

"I'll be fine," she interrupted. "Just don't get so involved you'll forget to come back for me."

"Never," he smiled. "Hopefully, this won't take too long."

She smiled and he left her.

Buffy glanced around the room, sighing. It looked like that was going to be the theme of the week; Giles goes off to deal with things, and Buffy gets left behind. Not that she really wanted to go digging through dusty old books with him. It's just that.... She smiled, remembering the look in his face when he'd walked back into the library. That feeling of coming home. She couldn't blame him, really she couldn't. He probably felt more at home here than he did in his father's house. But, of course, there was still the problem with what to do with her while he was off communing with the dusty pages....

The center of the room had shelves filled with magazines. All around the edges were chairs and couches. In a little room were vending machines offering sodas, coffee, and snacks, but Buffy had no change, even if she'd wanted anything, which she really didn't. But she found a styrofoam cup and filled it with water, then cruised through the stacks of magazines, looking for something to distract her.

Surprisingly, they did have Vogue; and the British version at that. She grinned. She always liked looking at foreign fashion mags. The stuff in them always looked much cooler than the stuff in the magazines at home. So with her cup and her magazine, she found an overstuffed leather chair in the corner and curled up.

The chair was next to a large window overlooking the street below. She opened her magazine, but found her attention drifting out the window to the scene outside, trying to imagine what it must be like to be a student here. Imagining Giles here. What did he do? Where did he live? How did he occupy his time?

The thoughts were so absorbing, Buffy never noticed when her eyes slid closed....

She woke suddenly to a hand on her shoulder and looked around, taking a minute to remember where she was. Giles was smiling at her. "Huh? Oh." She hadn't thought she was that tired, but the deep leather chair had been so inviting....

"You couldn't have slept very well last night," he commented.

"It was okay," she stifled a yawn. She never even looked at her magazine. Darn.

"Are you ready to go?"

She nodded. "You find what you were looking for?"

"Some," he answered simply, extending a hand.

"What were you looking up?" she asked, putting her magazine away and throwing out her cup. "Anything I have to know about?"

"Uh, no. No, just doing some personal research-something I was curious about." His furtive expression meant he didn't want to discuss it. Which made her think it might have had something to do with Ms. Calendar. Maybe about gypsies and curses.

So she accepted it with a nod and took his arm, following him out of the library, which was closing anyway.

"Let's get some dinner before we head back," he said. "That way we won't have to think about cooking at home. I'm afraid I've been rather cavalier about your missing meals."

"I haven't missed any meals," she protested. "I had a sandwich yesterday."

He smiled. "Teen metabolism. Once upon a time I could survive on just a sandwich, too."

"It's that cooking thing I don't do," she said. "I mean, well, I could try, but I'm not very good at it. But we can do sandwiches at home, if you want. Of course, if you want to buy me dinner, that's even better."

He chuckled. "All right. Do you like Indian food?"

"I don't think I've ever had it."

"There are several good Tandoori shops in Oxford."

"I'm game."

He smiled and led her to the high street again, to a little upstairs restaurant decorated in red velvet and bad Indian art. Giles recommended she start with something mild, though as a native Californian she'd practically been raised on jalapenos and salsa. But he insisted that the spices were different, so she got something with chicken and pineapple and rice. Giles got something that actually made him sweat. But the food was good, even if Buffy did drink a lot of water to go with it.

It was after dark by the time they'd finished dinner and headed back to the car. They didn't talk, but they didn't need to, either. It was really weird. She and Giles had absolutely nothing in common-except that watcher/slayer thing. And yet, it always felt like they "fit" together. Like they belonged. That must have been what Giles's father saw the other night, why he was finally willing to give his son the benefit of the doubt. If seeing her had convinced him, then Buffy was especially glad she'd come. It had been hard, some of it, especially seeing Giles so upset, seeing him self-destructive like he was last night. Not that she hadn't known he was capable of that before. But other parts had been good. Today was one of the high points. Seeing Giles relaxed, not worrying about her, or whatever was lurking around the next...corner....

Buffy stopped, her "spider sense" tingling, that old familiar ache in her stomach.

"What is it?" Giles asked.

"I am not in the mood," she grumbled to herself.

"Buffy-?"

"Stay here." She put a hand out to stop him. Only after she did so did she remember she was completely unarmed.

"What...?" Giles began. The vampire she'd "felt" came around the corner. "Oh-!"

He was big. Really big. And mean looking. Buffy had to hope that the usual case of brains and brawn in inverse proportion would apply.

"I thought I left all you guys back home," she said. "Boy, I'll tell you, you try to take a vacation and work just follows you wherever you go."

The vampire stared at her, confused. Then he snarled, expecting to scare her.

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Seen it before." She glanced at Giles. "Does Oxford have a vampire problem?"

"N...not to my knowledge," he replied, his eyes darting furtively in search of some way out. Looking for a plan.

"Well then, that means you're in the wrong neighborhood, fella," she said.

"No, you are," he answered and lunged for her.

"'Fraid not," she sidestepped, grabbing an arm and twisting it behind him. She pushed him away and he went sprawling, but was back on his feet more quickly than she would have expected.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Giles disappear into the shadows and she had to hope he was trying to come up with a weapon for her. The vamp came at her again, this time managing to grab hold of her. His grip was fierce as he squeezed his arms around her, forcing out air, bruising her ribs. It was a good thing she couldn't breathe, though, because his breath was really gross.

She was too far down to be able to head-butt him; her head simply bounced ineffectively against his massive chest. And her feet were no longer touching the ground, so she couldn't smash his instep. But her knees and feet were in position for other mayhem. She brought one knee up between his legs while the opposite foot hammered into his kneecap. The big vamp grunted and collapsed, practically pinning Buffy beneath him as he fell. She scrambled to her hands and knees, coughing as she sucked air back into her lungs.

"Come on!" She felt arms go around her, lifting her to her feet. "Run!" Supporting her, Giles hurried on toward the car. "We don't have a weapon, but we can try to outrun him."

Buffy pulled away. "No. I'm the slayer; I have to take care of him."

"You're not prepared," he protested.

"If I don't get him now, there's no doing it tomorrow," she insisted. "I'll try to hold him off; find me something to use."

"Buffy...."

But she turned away from his protests, waiting for the monster she was certain would follow.

He didn't disappoint. Moments later, he came lurching up the street toward her, his ugly face even uglier in rage.

"Go!" she yelled and hoped that this once, Giles would actually listen to her.

Then she didn't have time for any more thinking. It was all instinct of the battle. He knocked her down, she knocked him down. He throttled her, she throttled him. Her punches landed harmlessly, his knocked her flat. She sailed into a wall and sat there for a moment, shaking her head to banish the stars. She staggered to her feet, just as the vampire reached her, squeezing the air out of her lungs again as he prepared to turn her into dinner.

There was a shout, and a kind of thudding, squishing sound. The vampire grunted, going wide-eyed. Then he was dust.

Behind where he'd been stood Giles, holding a 2x4 with a jagged end. She didn't know how the hell he'd managed to use something like that as a stake, but as she coughed from vampire dust and lack of air, she was grateful he had.

"Y-you all right?" he asked.

She nodded, still coughing.

"That was too bloody close."

"They're always too bloody close," she coughed. "It's just that usually...I'm armed." She straightened, catching her breath.

"I've never known of vampires in Oxford. I didn't think...."

"You think it followed me?"

"It can't imagine that. I suspect it was just an unfortunate coincidence. But thank God you're all right."

Buffy nodded, thinking that herself. She looked up at him. "You saved my life."

He smiled. "That's what I'm here for." Then he gently brushed some vampire dust off her cheek. "Let's go home." He put an arm around her shoulders, giving her a brief hug before escorting her toward the car.

They left Oxford without further incident, traveling silently for several miles. Buffy coughed and Giles glanced over at her. "You're sure you're all right?"

She nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I know there are vampires all over the planet. But there's only one slayer, me. Well, except for Kendra. And I'm in Sunnydale. So what does everybody else do? Vampire buffet?"

Giles grimaced. "The slayer goes where the need is greatest," he said, sounding like he was quoting. "Vampire activity ebbs and flows. It may seem like there are millions of them, simply because we encounter them so frequently. But in truth, there are probably only a couple thousand. There are always vampire communities in large cities, but they are careful not to draw attention to themselves. Too many bloodless corpses lead to too many questions by the authorities. And strong as they are, vampires are really quite vulnerable. I'll mention it to the watchers, of course, but I can't help but feel this vampire tonight was an exception."

Buffy frowned. "Why are there so few of them? I mean, if every vamp feeds once a night and...."

"But they don't. For nutrition, a vampire only needs blood once every couple of weeks. Any other killing is purely...recreation. And as you know, animal blood will serve just as well as human.

"And, of course, everyone who is fed upon is not turned into a vampire."

"Why not? I mean, why don't they?"

"Competition for the food source, I assume. Population control."

Buffy considered that. There was so much about vampires she really didn't know, didn't understand. She supposed she should have asked Angel when things were good. But when things were good, she didn't want to think about it.

Now she couldn't think about anything else.

They rode in silence for several minutes before Buffy spoke again.

"Are the watchers headquartered in Chalworth?"

"It is their ancestral home, yes," he said, "though most of them are scattered throughout the world. There are other pockets of watchers: one in Russia, one in China, one in Africa. But Chalworth has, or had, the largest concentration of watchers. At one time more than a dozen watcher families lived there."

"How many watchers are there, total?"

Giles sighed. "I don't know anymore. Some die. Some retire. Many of the new generation refuse their calling. So the numbers are dwindling. Around a hundred, I'd guess, worldwide. Perhaps less."

"But there are a bunch of them, like the watcher pooh-bahs and stuff, in Chalworth. Right?"

He chuckled. "I wouldn't exactly call them pooh-bahs, but Chalworth is historically the oldest conclave of the watchers, yes."

"So you'd think there must be some vampire somewhere who's figured that out. I mean, they know there's a slayer and they know the slayer has a watcher. So some of them probably know where the watchers come from."

Giles frowned. "What are you getting at?"

"Well, how come every vamp in England hasn't swept into Chalworth to take them out? I mean, it's just strategy. If I were a vampire and I wanted to hurt the slayers, I'd take out the watchers. No watcher, no slayer."

"Very good," Giles smiled.

"Huh?"

"You're thinking. And you raise an excellent point. Which is why the town has been, er, blessed, if you will."

"Blessed?"

"Consecrated. Chalworth, the town itself has been blessed."

Buffy frowned. "Is that possible?"

"With difficulty," Giles admitted. "It's similar in concept to the Orthodox Jewish custom of eruv, which is a physical boundary around a town which signifies that the area inside is, literally, 'home'. You see," he continued and Buffy grinned to herself. He was in full "lecture" mode. "Orthodox Jewish law forbids anyone from carrying anything outside of the home on the Sabbath. This means anything from groceries to one's prayer book. However, by constructing an eruv around a town, they're basically saying that the entire town is a single dwelling. Thus circumnavigating the commandment. In this case, the boundary around Chalworth is used to signify that the town is a private home. And since a vampire may not enter a private dwelling without being invited, the entire village is protected."

Buffy frowned. "Yeah, but it's not a private dwelling. I mean, how do they keep them out? Why don't they just walk through the barrier? It's not like it's a physical door or anything."

"The boundary is real," Giles countered. "You probably didn't notice the wires strung up on poles around town. They look quite a bit like telephone lines. And they are as effective as any other door or portal to any private residence. There was a...a spell, much like the one we used to keep Angel out of our houses. It was cast at the boundary. It must be meticulously maintained; that's one of the other things the watchers do here. But as long as the barrier stands, no vampire may enter within the village limits. Of course, its residents are as vulnerable as anyone else outside the village, but within the town, we're safe."

Buffy thought about that. "Cool. But then why does anyone ever leave?"

He smiled. "You've seen it. Would you stay your whole life, even if you knew you'd be safe?"

"Probably not. I mean, no offense, but there's nothing there."

"That's also part of its safety. Vampires go where the feeding is easy and plentiful. It's neither in Chalworth."

"But as long as we're there, we're safe."

"Yes."

"Which is why you let me come along. Because you knew I needed a break and you knew I'd be safe there."

Giles glanced at her. "It was a consideration," he admitted.

She thought about that for another moment.

Giles would protect her even when he left home. That was cool. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Pretty clever, putting up that boundary like that. Don't suppose we can do that to Sunnydale."

"No, I don't think so," he agreed. "For starts, Sunnydale is much larger and not nearly so isolated as Chalworth. The barrier is a bit tricky to maintain even in a small town. And for another...."

"The demons are already in Sunnydale, 'cause of the Hellmouth," Buffy reasoned. "It wouldn't work to keep them out."

"Uh...quite."

She sighed. "Oh well, it was a thought." Then she yawned.

"Tired?"

"Mmm," she nodded. "I guess my nap wore off." She looked at him, the slightest of smiles on his face, so different from the tension and pain that had been there yesterday. Oxford had been a good idea, in spite of their "fiendly"

neighborhood vampire. She wrinkled her nose at her own unintentional pun. "Thanks for taking me to see Oxford."

"You're very welcome," he said. "Thank you for accompanying me. It was...good...to see it again."

"I can see you going to school there. Kind of like I could see Willow in a place like that."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Has she expressed any interest in Oxford?"

"I dunno. Just that I could see her there.

Cordy's more the UCLA type. And me 'n Xander, if we go anywhere, it'll be Sunnydale Community College."

"At least you're not discounting the idea out of hand anymore."

"I said if."

He conceded the point and they traveled the rest of the way home in silence.

Chapter VI