Antennapedia

FIC LINK: Sparks (Giles/Xander, FRT)

Mon, 12 May 2008 03:58:39 GMT

Title: Sparks
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: FRT
Summary: Giles and Xander attempt to figure out what happened in Willow's last moments on the cliff. Something strange, that's for sure.
Warnings: The aftermath of character death, sort of.
Word count: 4200

The lights had burned out when Willow's last act had surged power through the town and wreaked its anti-havoc.

Remember the surreal post-Grave Giles/Xander I mentioned I was working on for the h/c ficathon? This is that story, somewhat streamlined, though still strange and surreal. I cannot possibly explain where it came from. We can only hope that nothing else comes from that place ever again.

The Oz/Xander smut look a left turn at Albuquerque and I couldn't get it unbollixed. I gave up the struggle this morning and finished this instead. But I hope to get the O/X with a G/X chaser finished soon. I have a number of stories that are one good writing session away from being postable: there might be ficspam soon. Tremble in fear and flee!

Happy birthday!

Sun, 11 May 2008 18:06:05 GMT

Hey, is it hobgoblinn's birthday? It is! Happy birthday to you, and happy mother's day as well, to one of the most intrepid, dedicated, and thoughtful mothers I know.

Obviously it would be a BMW boxer sidecar conversion

Sun, 11 May 2008 17:19:25 GMT

"An Antique Roman", a story about Ethan's troubling yet somehow satisfying take on "Amends", got two shouts out this weekend: it got the nod in Round 8 of the forbiddenawards along with the marvelous "The Giles Thing" by drsquidlove and "Sometimes A Cigar" by allyndra. And then firefly_124 fangirled it! My weekend is made!

Many thanks to sniggs for the prompt (Angel? to be shouted at? hmm!) and to emmessann for the beta ("get Buffy out of this story" in more diplomatic terms, which was exactly right).

Then when I re-scanned it (as my species of OCD moves me to do) I edited out an Americanism in Giles-speak. Sigh. We conjugate "to get" differently from our cousins. And we give "different" a different preposition, too. Among a myriad other small things to get right. If I get 50% of them right in a story, I feel like I'm doing okay. Thus I come right back down to earth.

Either two short stories or one longer one for spring_with_xan later today. I was the king champeeeeeen of procrastination yesterday, so I'm still frantically typing today.

And speaking of spring_with_xan, check out nwhepcat's ficlet yesterday, written to my promptlet: "Roadside Assistance". I nurse a secret passion for the Citroen. Though if Tony Head had had his way, Giles would have been riding a bike with a sidecar in the early seasons. I think... that needs to be written.

Oh noes! In which I use unqualified superlatives thus inviting enjoyable discussion

Fri, 09 May 2008 19:06:25 GMT

fannish5's question this week: What 5 series/books/movies can you rewatch/reread time and again?

Dorothy Sayers, Murder Must Advertise or The Nine Tailors
John M. Ford, The Final Reflection
John Galsworthy, The Man of Property and its 1967 BBC adaptation
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice.

Some of those choices need no justification (e.g., the best novel in the English language, plus Sayer's best, plus the best TV show evar). Mike Ford's Klingon novel might need justification for people who think that Trek tie-in books were always the flat-rate crap they are now, and for people who haven't read any of Ford's writing. Galsworthy I can't justify, but I love him and his d—d screamers! and Edwardian sentimentality anyway.

Random link for today: video of a notable walk. Mr Pedia says, "I wouldn't make that walk without a jet pack."

What's up?

Fri, 09 May 2008 03:10:00 GMT

Hey! summer_of_giles has plenty of open slots this year. Go sign up to snag a day for your very own. Last year's fest was great, and I expect to see more great stuff this year, too.

Normal Antenna service resumes more or less now. I'll probably have to work all weekend, but that happens every so often. Sigh.

What's interesting this week? I have the new Bujold sitting on my living room sofa waiting as a treat for when I finish the stories I need to post on Sunday. That's interesting!

Dust on his hands playlist

Tue, 06 May 2008 15:10:03 GMT

Let's try this iMix thing. All the cool kids are doing it, and if there's anything I am, it's a trend-follower. Here's what I listened to while writing "Dust On His Hands From the Sky".

The Antikythera Mechanism

Mon, 05 May 2008 05:00:50 GMT

Best BPAL review ever: The Antikythera Mechanism. Bronze gears spin inside a polished wooden case, and an entire universe dances within. Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco.

And I tell you, the scent is worth the review. I'm happy with all of the Steamworks scents I've tried so far. Aelopile is citrus + amber. The Obsidian Widow is dark and mysterious and fabulous. Galvanic Goggles are worn by a dangerous well-dressed man. But the Antikythera Mechanism is, in addition to a neat artifact, an awesome scent.

And speaking of ancient Greece, I celebrated my earlier post about projects by working on something else entirely. A snippet from somewhere in the middle:

Giles' flat was a single large room with workspace, kitchen, and bed loft. Along a short hallway were the bath and some storage closets. It had been in a cheap and dangerous East End district when he'd bought it, a district which had gone somewhat upmarket around him. He'd chosen it because of the claustrophobia that had plagued him after Eyghon. Walls and locked doors and enclosed spaces set him shaking and sweating, convinced he was once again imprisoned. The only thing he could think to do about it was surround himself with open spaces. His colleagues introduced him as the man who had his office window open no matter the weather.

Most of his possessions were books, which he would ship, and some odd pieces of furniture, which he would sell. Giles owned the lease of his flat, and ordinarily he would have simply offered the place to Michael to live in while he was gone. But Michael would not be his after this week. It would be up to Travers to give his protege such gifts. So Giles would sublet the flat, and enjoy some extra income while he was in the States.

The shipping company had supplied him with stacks of folded cardboard moving boxes. Giles folded one open, and began to fill it with books.

Michael appeared a little later, with groceries in paper sacks and cartons of blistering takeaway curry. They sat together at Giles' little kitchen table and ate their lunch. Giles extracted his life story, or the portions of it the lad felt would impress Giles, as they ate. He was twenty-three. He had two degrees in maths, which was unusual but admirable. His sport was aikido. He had his heart set on a Honda Fireblade. His father was alive, in banking, not involved in the fight against darkness. He had no lovers just then, though he'd dated a woman seriously when at university. He was thrilled to be spending the week assisting Mr Giles. His story had already flashed from mouth to ear through Watcher circles, Michael said. Giles shifted uneasily in his chair. He wondered if the story had already been embroidered beyond recognition.

Michael cleared away the cartons, and they returned to emptying Giles' shelves. Eight days to roll up his life.

The state of the projects, post-apocalypse edition

Sun, 04 May 2008 17:54:04 GMT

I've spent the last week not really thinking about fandom because of the exigencies of work, which was busy in unusual and time-sensitive ways last week. Somewhat unpredictably, or I would not have booked myself with fannish obligations I was entirely unable to meet. Gah. Sorry.

I have read almost nothing this week. Yesterday I got into the bath for a very long soak. In the bath, I read Trudi Canavan's The Magician's Guild, which was a pleasant and uncomplicated YA-ish fantasy novel. The good guys are good, the bad guys are bad, the hero is never seriously challenged, and there were no layers below the surface. Which means I could scream through it at high velocity and rediscover my functioning brain. While soaking and drinking a margarita. I am ready to resume fandom. (Just in time for some really charming unfunny business. WTF, fandom, WTF.)

State of the projects, May 2008:

Giles and Death (Gaiman's Death, not Pratchett's) have tea, post-Gift, h/c. Very short. Might be posted today.
Giles/Ethan post-Grave h/c, a somewhat unusual setup. About 1000 words. Might be posted today.
May 11, spring_with_xan: two smut stories that follow "Hazy Solos": Oz/Xander and then Giles/Xander. No redeeming virtues other than some wordplay, but I think they will be entertaining.
2000 words of strange post-Grave Giles/Xander, the story that's too surreal for me to post. It's lurched out of control and I need to edit some story elements out and polish it. Might post it next Sunday as a third story for spring_with_xan.
"Antique Roman" verse Giles/Ethan, near-immediate follow-on to the story. This the the h/c-ish thing I've been mentioning since January. Done soon. Just needs some focus.
An outline for a long post-Chosen Spike/Giles story. Buffy dies in the ball of light that destroys the Hellmouth. Spike sanshues. Grieving ensues. This, if I ever have time to devote to it, will be a big one. I have some theories about Spike I'd like to explore in story.
Watcher's Child, the post-Eyghon story. Longest segment yet in the series, which is fitting because the story is finally in gear.
Giles/Buffy (with a side of Xander, not the way you think exactly), post-Chosen, motel room, bottle of Jack tagfic. Needs nothing more than time and attention, which are my scarcest resources.
Liegeman parts 2 through 7, which range from mellow Giles-Xander friendship through Initiative intrigue to the kinkiest the series has been yet. No schedule for posting, because I'd like to finish a draft of all 6 parts, then post them on successive days.
My schoolboy Giles + Ethan Doctor Who crossover (featuring the Second Doctor and Jamie) is knocking at my brain. I've been seeing little segments of action from it in my head.
But my summer_of_giles story will be time-travel with settings in Bath, London, and Highgate Cemetery in the mid-70s. A nice bit of depressive grunge and Hammer horror flair, I hope. The event-ness of SoG moves me to pull out all the stops and make a grand noise. About 10K words written already, which will need major revision when I re-outline and focus on a second draft.

That's a subset of the full set of projects I have in progress, but those are the ones that are closest to the top of my mind right now. What? That isn't enough?

And now I catch up on the wonderful things you have all posted for the h/c fest which, um, I seem to have failed utterly with.

A brief update before I run to my next all-day meeting

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 16:21:45 GMT

1. Oh my god, my head hurts. Three days running now. Make it stop.

2. This week turns out to be pretty hellish and overscheduled and stressful, so all my plans for reading, writing, posting, responding to comments, and being present in the slightest have been overturned. I hope to ficspam on the weekend.

3. Rock Band is a fabulous team-building tool. No joke. All ages, all backgrounds, all levels of willingness to faceplant in public. Except that I have another blister on my thumb. Something's seriously wrong with my technique.

Oh dear

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 01:36:38 GMT

This Giles/Xander thing is going to be too weird to post. Not a lot of hurt/comfort in it, for one thing, plus... it's surreal. The Giles/Ethan ficlet is doing okay, though.

I have no idea what I'm going to do with the Giles/Snape prompt. Er. Um. Maybe I'll write Giles and Death having a cup of tea instead.

In addition to writing a very strange story, I've been drinking tangerine juice mixed with soda water and grenadine. And browsing hilarious pagan bric-a-brac on Amazon: start with one of the more absurd Fluffy Fairy Tarot decks, and go from there. I wish I weren't so addicted to pretty art on stupid cards. I am, however, completely looking forward to the Slayer's Tarot, as designed by Rachel Pollack. I've got some of her Tarot books, and (as you know, Bob), I'm a big fan of Unquenchable Fire.

Things I must do

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 18:01:05 GMT

- Respond to all the comments on my remix story.
- Work out.
- Shower and dress. Preferably before the afternoon turns the corner into "late" and "time for tea".
- Finish this very strange post-Grave G/X story I'm supposed to post tomorrow for the Giles hurt/comfort fest.

Am distracted, however, by working on a better information design for my fic archive site, with a mind toward some designs applicable to larger archives. Step one is to learn what Prototype can do for me.

FIC LINK: What Friends Are For (Flow My Tears Remix) (gen, Xander, FRT)

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 17:09:06 GMT

Title: What Friends Are For (Flow My Tears Remix)
Author: antennapedia
Summary: Xander takes steps to make sure he remembers what he needs to.
Characters: Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg
Rating: PG/FRT (for a tiny bit of language)
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon’s, not mine
Original story: ”What Friends Are For” by nwhepcat
Notes: Many thanks to my husband for the close beta-reading and for pushing me to crank up the intensity.

I swear to you that every word you’re about to read is true.

nwhepcat and I remixed each other this year. Heh! Though I do hope, for variety's sake, she draws a different name out of the hat next year. Gotta feel like being persecuted to get me every year :)

It threw me badly to be given nwhepcat for the second time. I'd read more of her stories, for one thing, and had a better sense of what she does with them, and was kinda intimidated. In some ways I think the True Remix of a Hepcat story would be a 90-part epic itself.

I then made things worse for myself by making a rule: No Giles. Whatever it was, there would be no Giles in this story, or only peripheral Giles, to throw people off the scent. That one worked, because only a couple people on my flist even commented on the story, and none of them seemed to guess it was me.

Then came the usual angsty search to find something I could get a handle on. When I finally read this one, I realized I had a hook. I knew what I was going to do with it, and it was a cool idea. Mmmm, psychological horror! I started chewing on my idea... and I completely failed with it. I wanted to show Willow in action, editing memories in an improv performance, while Xander's stream of consciousness makes it clear to the reader what's going on. This was too hard for me to pull off, but I'll try the approach again some time.

My second take is what you read. It started out more inspired by Gene Wolfe's Soldier of the Mist, a story of a Greek soldier cursed by the gods to forget each night what happened the day before. He writes the events of his life, as he remembers them or as he's told about them, as he goes. But the story took a different twist as I wrote, so the remix title is a nod to the master of uncertain-reality stories: Philip K. Dick. Xander refers to a popcult version of a Dick setup that he's likely to know, The Matrix.

I'm overwhelmed by the response to it.

Does that make Giles the Frank Sinatra character?

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 00:23:28 GMT

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce vs Raymond Shaw: discuss.

Spanish ficpolls in space (extended youth mix)

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 21:20:47 GMT

It's absurd, because I have only one of five hurt/comfort stories written, and because I have as yet not started my spring_with_xan story (due May 11). But I'm already fussing about my summer_of_giles story. There are a bunch of possibilities, some of which are scarier than others.

So! A purely advisory, I-promise-nothing poll, for your amusement:

View Poll: FicPoll Mark XII

In other news, I'll be at constrictcon this year. Have booked all things that need booking. Hrm, except perhaps for a rental car.

Oh noes! Music you've never heard of meme!

Tue, 22 Apr 2008 17:48:30 GMT

Was tagged by beatrice_otter, therefore: List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now, shaping your spring. Post these instructions in your LJ along with your 7 songs. Then tag 7 other people to see what they're listening to.

Silversun Pickups, "Lazy Eye", Jason Bentley remix
Kiln, "Airplaneshadows", from Dusker
Caspian, "The Dove", from The Four Trees
Hammock, "Blankets of Night", from Kenotic
Helios, "Velius", from Unomia
Jon Hopkins, "Cerulean", from Opalescent
INXS, "Afterglow", Randy Boyer & Eric Tadla remix

These songs are all from my current writing playlist.

Remix pleasure to be had

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 03:45:38 GMT

Hey, peeps! Check out what an intrepid remixer did with "Substitute" (gen, Xander, Giles, post-Becoming): "Copper and Moonlight" (The Mimi and Rudolfo Remix)". The remix shifts the points of view to Giles as he gets through the day after "Becoming". Ouch. And ouch again.

The very handy remixredux08 tagging system means that it's easy to find all the Giles stories. Check 'em out. Remix is tons of fun.

Oh noes! quote me meme

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 04:35:59 GMT

Since I have not yet recovered from writing and loathing my remix story, I meme mindlessly at you. Via synecdochic: Quote a bit of my fic at me. Find that one story of mine that you really like, and find a sentence or a paragraph that presses your prose-buttons in the right way, and comment here with it. Don't care how long or short.

Also, a May 2 prompt slot is still empty. Giles/Ethan h/c, anyone? And now, before I head off to read in the bath, I leave you with these timeless words:

Q: What were the skies like when you were young?

A: They went on forever. They - when I, we lived in Arizona and the skies always had little fluffy clouds in them, and, ah, they were long and clear and there were lots of stars at night. And, ah, when it would rain it would all turn - They were beautiful. The most beautiful skies as a matter of fact. Ah, the sunsets were purple and red and yellow and on fire and the clouds would catch the colors everywhere. That's neat 'cause I used to look at them all the time when I was little. You don't see that.

You might still see it in the desert.

Write me songfic for that.

Don't make me write another poll

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 01:54:21 GMT

I'm backing up my Macbook right now because [complicated story involving having to repartition the disk with the GUID scheme so I can install Leopard]. I figured I've got a brief interlude between fic deadlines, so I can afford to be without my Mac for a day or so. (The backup process is going to take 6 hours.)

Things I have done while without my writing computer:
- finishing the Telecaster (as soon as Mr P figures out where I screwed up the wiring, the guitar is done, and it is gorgeous)
- storing my for-trade BPAL in one of the plastic boxes the pickups came in
- doing laundry (never-ending)
- cleaning the kitchen (never-ending)
- refraining from playing WOW (one day at a time)
- napping (if only I could do more)

So! I am writing my own angsty Giles/Spike prompt for the hurt/comfort fest due at the end of the month. There are lots of unclaimed prompts, you'll notice, and a few days that won't have so many fics posted. Here are the dates that need more:

April 28 (Giles/Xander) [claimed: G/X post-Grave]
May 1 (Crossovers and Giles/Joyce) [claimed: Giles/Snape post-Gift]
May 2 (Giles/Ethan and Giles/Anya) [claimed: G/E post-Grave]
May 3 (Giles/Wes, Giles/other) [claimed: G/Wes post-Connor]

Tonight only! First-come first-served! Pick one prompt from each of those four days and I'll write it. (Er, not the Life on Mars prompt because I am only vaguely aware of what LoM is. Enthusiastic explanations in the comments welcome!) Probably it'll get a shorter response, 1500 words or something. I kinda enjoyed that ficspam thing I did in November, and would love to do it again.

"Fenrisulfr" gets some lub

Fri, 11 Apr 2008 16:06:53 GMT

Fang Fetish Awards round 8 winners were announced. This was their Mystical Origins round, with a section for Dawn and Connor stories. (Dawn seems to have been more popular than Connor.) "Fenrisulfr" was nodded to as runner-up for Best Dawn Pairing. The winner in that category was "Key to My Heart" by Spikeslovebite (Dawn/Xander).

I'm kinda curious myself what happened the next morning.

All projects at a total standstill

Wed, 09 Apr 2008 03:20:18 GMT

Can has commentfic or other distracting/cheering/motivating entertainment?
ETA: My new web app framework! Disclaimer: need to be at least this nerdy to laugh.

BtVS/Who crossover ficathon pimpage

Tue, 08 Apr 2008 15:14:30 GMT

sonic_hellmouth is a Who-verse/Whedon-verse crossover ficathon run by clevermonikerr. Stories are due on June 1st, and signups are open now.

The Sarah + Giles prompt looks particularly tasty to me. Unclear I'll be signing up, though. I need to hunt down and subdue those two linked crossovers I hinted at back in November.

Thanks to sueworld2003 for linking this! I'd have missed it otherwise.

Oh noes! AUs in which they're all janitors meme!

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 15:09:26 GMT

Gakked from noelia_g, this amusing meme:
The Hypothetical AU Meme: Take any one of the fandoms you know I write in, and give me a type of AU (space opera AU, pirate AU, superhero AU, Ancient Rome, etc). I will then explain what story from your chosen fandom I would write for your chosen type of AU.

Weekend observations

Mon, 07 Apr 2008 04:38:13 GMT

Have been jangly, grumpy, and procrastinatory all weekend.
Despite this, had a great time looking at expensive kitchen appliances with nemaihne, then acting as designated driver for an evening at Trader Vic's for the four of us.
Galaxy Quest stays funny.
Made some solid progress on the web app for the fic archive generator, despite the extreme perversity of my framework choices for it.
It's way harder to write dirty talk than you'd think. (This is the secret reason why the next tagfic is taking ages.)
I'm extremely fond of Core Four smut. Or smarm. Or any kind of togetherness for them. But especially the variant of soul-bonding!CoreFour I have chosen to inflict upon the world.
If I don't start my Remix fic soon, I'll be screwed. And not in the good way. I know what story I want to do, I know what my approach is, and I know more or less how it's going to go. And yet.. too jangly to start it.

I just heard there's a rage club, but I'm too late to be a founding member.

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 16:51:05 GMT

Jolly me out of my current state of rage, please. Rage is not a usual state for me-- not honest-to-goodness grand-gesture-level fury-- and I find it unpleasant. I'm against continuing in this state. Therefore, distraction! On the theory that if there's anything as comforting as self-absorption, it's contemplating the characters I love, I propose the following:

Ask me questions about fandom and fic and writing and stuff. I'll answer 'em, possibly by makin' stuff up.

FIC: The Guardians (Giles/Jenny, FRC)

Fri, 04 Apr 2008 02:54:05 GMT

Title: The Guardians
Author: Antennapedia
Pairing: Giles/Jenny
Rating: FRC
Summary: Buffy learns about names and magic.
Notes: In the universe of A Tragedy in Six Holidays. One last bit of fluff before season 2 starts making its opinion known...
Word count: 1550
Feedback: Makes the author happy. Even if you just say hi.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I claim no ownership and am making no money.

Giles and Jenny had a little boy, right at the end of September. Giles called the day something funny, which Buffy didn't catch, but that Giles said was significant. Buffy was off doing some serious Slaying when it all happened, but the phone call from Giles the next morning said it had been routine, as smooth as it ever gets. Mother and son doing well, visitors welcome in another day or so once they'd all recovered. Buffy brought them presents and met the newest Giles, who looked like a tiny sack of potatoes in his blue onesie. Cute as the proverbial button, though. Ms Calendar looked fabulous and was in a triumphant show-off mood, bubbling over with way more energy than Buffy expected.

A few days later Giles was back on the job, back on both jobs, catching up with Buffy on the Slaying front and dealing with the backlog of shelving his totally annoying substitute had left behind. Buffy sat with him at the study table and gave him the update while he scribbled notes in his Watcher journal. He looked thrashed, all tired-eyed and rumpled. No sleep in days, she figured, but he had that quiet glow that meant all was better than good in the Giles world.

Buffy finished up her report, which had been all-in-all boring and routine, then asked the big question: "What's Junior's name, anyway? Have you guys decided?"

"Yes, we've decided."

Buffy stopped, afflicted by a sudden bad thought. "Not Rupert Junior?"

Giles's eyes crinkled up, but he shook his head. "Nothing so dreadful. He'll be given three names. Peter, after my father. Michael, after the day he was born."

"Peter Michael Giles. Not bad. What's the third one?"

"Jenny whispered it in his ear right after the birth. It's so secret even I don't know it. She tells me it's his true name." Giles shrugged.

"Peter Michael Secret-name Giles. Gypsy thing?"

"A Roma thing, yes."

Giles cleared his throat, and told Buffy a few more secrets. There was negotiation going on between him and Jenny, about religion and magic and other things, like how Peter was going to be raised. Jenny was mostly Catholic, like Buffy, the "mostly" coming from a bunch of Roma traditions that her family had going on top of the usual. Giles was a species of Anglican with a Watchery twist. Or so he explained it. The two of them had worked out a christening ceremony that satisfied both of them, and the vicar-guy who'd married them had consented to perform it.

It turned out that Giles had been serious about the godparent thing, because the next thing out of his mouth was a stuttery formal request that she participate in the christening ceremony on the coming Sunday. Giles sat gazing at her almost anxiously. Buffy picked up on his mood and answered him totally seriously and told him she'd be thrilled to.

Giles took off his glasses and polished them. "Marvelous. Thank you. I-- uh, thank you."

"What does it mean, exactly? I've never been a godparent. Doesn't he get two?"

"Three," Giles said, and he stuck his glasses back onto his nose. "Two men, and one woman. Robson will be flying out here again. My best man; you remember him."

Buffy wrinkled her nose. She'd avoided him on principle, because he was a Watcher, though if Giles liked him that counted for something.

Giles was talking some more. "The ceremony is simple, easy enough to perform, but it needs to be approached seriously, because it will be a magic ritual. You'll be standing for him and telling the Powers you're his guardian. His guardian in a spiritual and mystical sense. "

He looked anxious as he talked, as if it were important that Buffy understood. He was taking it way more seriously than she'd expected. And she was surprised that he'd let magic get mixed up with church stuff. But Giles said, groping for words, that religion was magic to start with, especially for people like Watchers and Slayers. And his son was going to be a Watcher some day. He'd done a reading right after the birth, and the signs were clear. He sighed when he explained this to Buffy, and looked almost sad. But it meant he needed a Watcher on the godparent list, and Giles said he trusted Robson. Buffy wasn't sure what that meant, exactly. They'd never really talked about the Watchers. Buffy knew Giles wasn't the only one, but if there was a whole gang of them back in the motherland, they didn't seem to do much.

But his son's destiny as a Watcher was also was why Giles was particularly honored, he said, that the Slayer would be one of his godparents. The Slayer as guardian of the young Watcher, just as someday he would be a Slayer's guardian. Buffy blinked, and maintained her suave, even though she was perilously close to choking up.

"Who's the other godparent?" she said quickly, to cover up.

"I was thinking of asking Xander."

"Xander?" Buffy felt it would not be possible to overstate her surprise.

"I feel strongly about him," Giles said, looking at his hands instead of at Buffy. "He brought you back to life. I think-- well, I believe that was significant. You may call me superstitious if you like. But I-- Anyway. I'll be forever grateful to him."

"Me too," Buffy said, quietly.

"I'll ask him when he comes by after class. Do you think he'll--"

"Duh. He'll fall all over himself."

"Right, right. Then I'll teach you both what you need to know about the ceremony. It's quite simple. In the meantime, must get these bloody books shelved."

Giles stood and ran a hand through his already-messy hair, and like that, snap, he was a librarian again. Buffy sat and thought about things after he vanished into the stacks with his book cart. She'd never thought of herself as religious. Christmas and Easter, that was when her family went to church and heard Mass and did the whacky stuff. Twice a year, some nice comforting bland rituals before you went home and had fun with your family. The rest of the time she didn't think about it. Not even when she watched the priest do a special blessing on the holy water he gave her every week. Even though there had to be mojo working, the mojo that made the holy water and the crucifixes hurt the vamps. Or not mojo, but the Powers. God. Whatever it was. It had to be real, because souls and demons and heaven and hell and all that stuff was real. Sort of a big surprise, but now that Giles was making Buffy think about it, it all fit.

The world was not what she had thought it was. It was far more like the creepy place she'd been scared it was when she was small, when she took things literally. Bit of a trip to come out the other side and learn that no, all this science and rationality came to a screeching halt the moment you looked under the bed and found there really was a monster there.

On the plus side, Buffy was no longer scared of monsters. They were scared of her. Nothing quite like sauntering through a cemetery and seeing the baddies turn tail when she gave them her cheeriest hello.

And at times like this, Buffy felt the world was infinitely cooler than she'd thought it was. She headed off to class in a good mood.

Xander said yes, of course, and so it came to be a few days later that Buffy was dressed up nicely in a church for the second time ever that was not Christmas or Easter. She stood in the clump of people around the font, between a calm and solid Robson and a jittering Xander. He wasn't quite as cleaned up as he'd been for the wedding, but he was wearing a new knitted tie, a present from Willow, and he'd even learned to tie it himself. He told Buffy this then jabbed her in the arm with an over-active elbow. Fortunately he settled down when it came time to work their mojo thing on Peter.

Peter didn't settle down, though. He was fussy to start with and built to an all-out wail when the vicar shook water on his head. The salt silenced him for about three seconds, then the wailing recommenced. Good thing this was a short ceremony. He wailed at Robson, and he wailed at Xander. Then it was Buffy's turn to get sobbed at.

Buffy stepped up and dipped her fingers into that special oil that Giles said was called chrism, which sounded gross but smelled sweet. She said her Latin words and signed the cross on the poor kid's head, and had another one of those world-shifting moments. This was what magic felt like: it tingled and fizzled and felt strangely good, like static electricity fuzzing around a balloon you'd rubbed on your sweater. And wonder of wonders, Peter shut up. He waved a tiny pink hand around and collided with her oily finger, as if by accident, and latched on tight.

Buffy smiled down at him and bent close to his little head, to his little face and tiny nose under the white lacy cap. World's smallest guardian of Slayers, Peter Michael Secret-Name Giles. She whispered to him: "I'll take care of you, kiddo."