Note to the Dear Readers:

First off, yes- I'm trying to make up for the long absence with a quick post. - grins - Don't expect the story to become a daily updat, but if I can just hack through a few over the next few days, that ought to make up for the long time away.

Also, a thank you to one particular reviewer who seems determined to stroke my ego. Fyre, love the reviews, and I really do love your opinion. I love people who drop a line to let me know they're there, even if they dont say much, but I really do love an out and out communication with readers. - hugs -

Another thank you to dear Martel who named the story I've been searching for, for far too long.

This chapter is for the both of you. (sadly it's a tad shorter then I would have liked, but I think I said everything I wanted to say. Anything more would have just been droning onwards)

Onwards Ho...

There were a few pluses to having a medical issue in his line of work- if you could keep up with the work at all. For one thing, nobody really expected him to bother climbing several stories worth of floors just to get a signature from a crewman. Another plus, the staff who were new and didn't know how he lost the eye outside of work thought he was one up the more manly men among them.

Quickly dissuaded once they talked to him, of course, but first impressions did mean quite a bit.

On the unlucky side however, he was now expected to fly a desk for a good portion of the day, going through paperwork and computer simulations on development for this area and others. When potential cliants phoned, they almost always went through him. When issues with the crew came up, he was the one to deal with it. Sometimes he felt like the principal in a school of idiots (for which he almost felt sorry for Snyder- rest in unending hell, bastard) and sometimes he felt like the father of...

Right.

Not so much with the fake feelings right now.

Work ended, as it always does- even when the day seems like its going on forever, and he couldn't quite decide if he was glad or not. Going home and facing life was no more appealing then not getting paid for staying at the site... but who was he kidding, anyway? They needed groceries- Buffy used to do the shopping for things like that, and now it was all him.

And then there was laundry. His, no big deal. Dawns... maybe she could do her own underwear? Was it too much to think that a seventeen year old kid would want a figure she deemed closer as a brother then anything doing her laundry?

Not the point, and probably something left for another day.

Back to dinner.

The last week, as a pair they'd gone through all the easy cook items that had been left from the last grocery run. Waffles, fruit, microwave soup and the like. Now it was down to noodles and slightly elderly carrots- eating out was an option, but he'd have to face up to eating healty eventually. Cooking though... it had never been a fortay, living in the Harris house a properly made can of soup was as good as it got.

But Dawn grew up with an attentive mother who cooked. Cooked for real. Like, meatloaf and potatoes, breads and things. Actual meals from actual cookbooks, three times a day. And here he was, exhausted from work, unsure if he could properly call for takeout without somehow messing it up.

Cooking, laundry, and their place needed to be cleaned in case of another social services visit- they warned it might happen, and Xander would hardly expect to be overlooked in a military city like this. They took care of their own, which meant a certain level of paranoia when it came to new faces. That wasn't even beginning to mention he had to make sure Dawn got her homework done, that he finished the planning for how they were going to go about getting the last floor of his latest project done despite the fact that there were three men calling in sick...

Life was too complicated. That was the only explaination. Life was too complicated, and he blamed society for it.

The store first.

His cellphone rang.

“...Hello?”

And thank you god, the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. Like a weird gay moment where bagpipes are playing in the background- “Xander, dear lord- you sound like hell.”

A gin threatening to split his face right in two, he could just imagine the older man taking off his glasses to polish them quickly. “Giles, G-Man, damn! It's been like, three weeks since you called.”

“Yes,” he sounded sincerly apologetic, “It's been a tad hectic here. The coven seems to have taken to a nearby womans liberation front, and being the old man in the building they seem to have taken it upon themselves to show me the error of all socities ways and try to teach me what I can do to improve.”

He laughed, loudly. “Now you know how I feel,” the reiteration was quick, “Highschool; what they thought I should have been wearing. How they thought I should have been acting. Who they thought I should have been trying to date.”

“Yes, well, you'd have probably done well to listen to them.”

“Remember those words the next time they ask you for something, G-man. You're going to regret it.

Both, laughing. Both, calming. Giles was there, even if it was on the phone. Giles would make it better. “Seriously,” his voice was lower, “It's good to hear from you.”

“Yes, well,” and now Giles sounded all serious too. None to different then what Xander was used to, but it likely meant buisess was abound. Which meant demons were around, and that Xander had more on his plate even now. “I've been trying to get a hold of Buffy; I fear she's still angry at the coven and I. You haven't been able to talk her into calming down by now I suppose?”

Heart stopped.

Mind blanked.

Both raced.

“What?”

“Buffy,” Giles was saying more slowly now, “Is she still upset with us, or just too busy to answer her cellphone?”

“Upset...?”

“...She did tell you, didn't she?”

“Tell me what exactly?”

“She had been planning on coming to England, and bring Dawn and yourself along with her. I mentioned that I didn't think it was the best idea ever... she was quite upset on the phone.”

Xander blinked.

Cursed internally.

“When was this Giles?”

“Oh... about a week or so ago I suppose.”

“The day, Giles. Seriously, I need to know the actual day.”

Still confused, but knowing the younger man was serious- a rare event in itself. Thinking carefully... “Monday. Not last monday, but the previous.”

“Today's friday.”

“Er... yes. Xander, what's the problem exactly?”

“You spoke to her a week and four days ago. She's been gone a week. Those papers she had ready two days before she...”

“I have to admit to some confusion.”

“Giles... don't shit me here,” his voice was low, and oh so glad he'd not been driving when Giles had phoned. Sitting behind the wheel of his car, still in the parking lot at work was better... no pedestrians to hit by accident in the shock of it all.

Fuck.

Fucking Buffy.

Fucking situation.

She planned this. Things didn't go her way and she left anyway.

No way to keep something like this secret, no way to come back from this if she came back at all. No way their friends could ever trust again.

Fuck Buffy.

“...Is Buffy there, or not?”

“No.” He sounded equally as miffed, but shrouded in confusion as he had no idea why.

“Giles... Buffy left. To stay with you and Willow a week ago. She didn't... I mean, she acted like it was all planned. Suitcase packed and everything.”

“That's impossible.”

“Improbable maybe, but it's true.” His voice was rising now. “Giles, has she called you at all in the last week? Do you know if she's contacted anybody there?”

“No... nobody. That was why I called, we were starting to get worried.”

“Worried... fuck, Giles, Buffy is gone!”

“Dawn,” he sounded worried now, “Where is she?”

“Dawn's with me,” he replied quickly, “I mean, not here here. She's at school right now; at least I hope so. But she's still here in Colorado. Giles, god... how can you not know this?”

“How can you not know where Buffy's ran off to?”

“I'm not her father!” He was nearly yelling now, not mad at Giles so much as the situation, “God, Giles, you have no idea what we've been through the last week! Social checks and paperwork and fuckin' issues that I should not have to fucking deal with! And weird looks and school and shit! Giles, if Buffy isn't there... god, this is... Dawn is going to freak!”

“...Security checks?”

“Buffy... she said she was moving to England. She was going to live with you guys. Dawn wouldn't go.”

“Percisly the reason I told her to stay there.”

“Well she didn't, and... fuck, Giles, she asked me to stay with Dawn. Legally.”

“She wouldn't abandon Dawn though- wherever she is she has to come back eventually.”

“No, Giles- she doesn't!” Short of breath, feeling nautious. God, he could have started crying right then. “She never actually has to come back now!”

“Of course she does,” now Giles was trying to placate him, like he was a moron or something.” “Dawn-”

“Is legally fucking mine now!”

“...What?”

“She needed to leave, she said. Needed to get away. Dawn wouldn't go, I wouldn't go, Giles, god, she asked me to sign the papers so that Dawn could have a legal guardian here and not be forced off on a social home or something.”

“Good lord.”

Oh, and here came the hyperventiallation.

“Giles... I can't deal with this! Not on top of everything else! I mean, I don't even know how to cook and I've adopted a kid and Buffy isn't ever going to come back and-”

“Xander,” his voice was anxious, “Breath. It's alright.”

“It's not alright!”

“No... Xander, but... I mean, ...oh good lord.”

“You said that already! Helpful! Say something helpful!” It would have sounded funny if his face hadn't gone pasty white and the grip on his phone insanely tight.

“I'll be there as soon as possible.”

Big breath.

Throw open the car door.

Land on his knees.

Throw up.

Fuck.

Fuck Buffy.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck Buffy, and fuck her for running away.

And off across the pond, Giles carefully put his phone down- unsure of what to say. Unsure of what to do. Across the hall the girls were having a movie night, no idea whad had just happened. And to be honest with himself, he didnt know what to do about it.

Likewise, in her last class of the day, Dawn sat rigidly- watching the clock more then anything else. She just wanted her first day to be over with- things were stressful enough as they were. It was time to go home and relax.

He should have gone to the grocery store on the way home. He should have gone straight home, even, and just ordered the take out and told Dawn the truth. He should have just walked right up to her and said, 'Yeah, so your sister is probably never coming back.'

Right.

Because that would have been best.

Instead he'd drivin around, unconcious of thought to reaction to where the car was headed, unsure of what to do. There had to be a reason, after all, that Buffy thought she was doing the right thing. Their blonde friend wasn't that good an actor- she had to have been really stressed before leaving. Really needing that 'me' time. But maybe there was more.

Maybe there was something. Anything.

A prophecy... a danger to Dawn. A need to face some new big bad on her own

A reasno, Buffy. Just give me a reason. Anything would do.

But there were no books to look into; taken away before social sevices could wonder why he had books filled with mutilated corpses and 'imaginary' creatures. Monsters. There was no way to look into these things alone; he didn't know enough to properly look into the computer searches- that was always Willow's fortay, to find the one real shred of information in a mountain of crap websites.

The library.

He'd driven to the library without even knowing it.

And what was strange; the fact that being surrounded by the constant smell of books- not quite musty yet, but given a hundred years or so... Xander really did feel somewhat comforted, surrounded by all those books. A toss back to his highschool years, where having information at your finger tips actual meant survival.

A research party with no research team.

He was alone in this one.

The culture section, stories of old monsters and small children doing things they shouldn't. Monsters that would take them away, and stories of old gods and how they took it upon themselves to rule the world.

There was little in english though, that was useful, so instead he turned to older languages- honestly thankful that this library seemed to carry an actual selection of each subject. Enough so that after having signed the books out, he had chosen several thick books were actually enough to block his sight- and send him crashing into another man.

Both picking up their books with haste. Both muttering apologies as one eye quickly took in four. Stereotypical geek meets stereotypical buisiness man / construction foreman- in the doorway of a strangely large and rarely used library.

Xander left.

And meanwhile, one Daniel Jackson searched through his books for the one that he couldn't afford to lose. His journal, full to the brim of field notes and information tags on creatures from the farest reaches of the galaxy.

It wasn't there.

Well, shit.

To be Continued

In Reiteration

so far we have Buffy disappeared who knows where, one teenage clone looking out, however unwillingly, for Dawn, and one seriously freaked out Xander who has to figure out what's going on. Giles is on his way... but things are going to get much more difficult before they get better.