"Issues": Part Three of the Summer Series

After a moment's hesitation, he knocked anyway.

Xander thought he might be off the hook, that he might have misidentified Rupert Giles' car--not damned likely with that insect-shaped vehicle, though--when the door didn't open immediately. He turned to retrieve his bike, but then he heard the click of the door's release.

He almost smiled when he saw the librarian's tired face, squinting into the bright midday sun. Even though he hadn't seen Giles for a few weeks, he knew the drill: His eyes were too used to the somber lighting of the library. Giles had probably been here since dawn, doing whatever the Watcher busied himself with over the summer: cataloging unreturned books, ordering new ones, or struggling to track down his missing Slayer.

Xander decided he'd take what was behind Door Number Three.

"Xander--hello," Giles said with an obvious hint of surprise. He held the door open for a moment, considering the boy.

"Hey, Giles," Xander replied smoothly, not phased by Giles' less-than-ecstatic greeting. He gestured dismissively toward his bike. "I was on my way to the mall to see 'Deep Impact' again, and I thought I'd stop by--see how things are going."

"Oh, well, yes," Giles said in that way he said many things-- multiple layers of meaning and several thoughts fighting for dominance. "Well, do come in ... I mean, if you have time."

"Yeah, well--the movie doesn't start for a little bit," Xander lied, knowing full well he could catch the next one if he got caught here. He walked past Giles, who was still holding the door open. They had long ago disabled the alarm that should have sounded at the door's opening.

"So, what's up?" he asked, pulling off his sunglasses and tossing them on the main tabletop. Looking around, Xander discovered that not a single thing had changed, and he was somewhat surprised to find that the sight of the library was still comforting. He hadn't been here since that last night, when his broken arm and other vampire-induced injuries sent him to the hospital.

"Mmm, nothing ... nothing, really," Giles replied, a little too casually. "I'm just going through some books I received yesterday." He indicated his office, where Xander saw an impressive pile--express delivery from Watcher Central, no doubt.

Xander plunged ahead. "I guess it's pointless to ask if you've heard from Buffy."

"Yes, well ..." Giles' slight smile was so far from indicating humor, it was meaningless. "No one seems to have heard from her. Or seen her." He regarded Xander silently for a moment, then, appearing to come to a decision, he turned toward the office. "Help me, will you?"

"Sure," Xander said, following Giles into the office. "Who is 'no one'?"

"The other Watchers I've been in touch with. They know what she looks like, and, more importantly, they know what she can do. It can't be easy for her to go unnoticed, but none have seen or heard about her." He handed a couple of dusty volumes to Xander. "I keep hoping, regardless."

"Oh," Xander said. He realized that he had been hoping, too, even though he suspected it was fruitless. A subject change was in order. "Did you hear about Willow?"

Giles' smile this time barely hid his satisfaction. He piled more books on top of the ones Xander already held. "About her run-in with Spike? Yes, I did. She called me two nights ago. She--"

"She called you?!" Xander cut in, continuing indignantly, "What's the deal? I haven't talked to her once since she left for Washington, but she's called you, she's called Cordelia ... "

"Yes, she mentioned that she had talked to Cordelia earlier in the evening," Giles said, his smile fading. He went back to perusing some of the books on his desk, but his raised eyebrow piqued Xander's interest. Giles rarely had a comment or expression that didn't mean something.

"What?" Xander asked, careful to monitor his tone. "You have that 'I'm not going to say what I'm thinking' look. Or is it the 'I'm thinking more than I'm saying' look? I get them confused."

It took Giles a moment to answer. "None of my business, really, but it's somewhat surprising that Willow seems determined to pursue a friendship with Cordelia. That's all." He glanced briefly, blandly at Xander before returning his attention to the books--that glance, too, held significance. Xander just wasn't sure what the significance was.

"Oh." Despite himself, he felt his masculine pride over his girlfriend jumping up and arming itself. "Why do you think that's so 'surprising'?" His carefully monitored tone was becoming a little less careful ... and monitored.

"Well, it's not as if Cordelia and Willow have anything in common, besides the shared paranormal experiences ... "

"And me," Xander completed, reflecting on his own feelings of weirdness when he heard about the phone call. He had convinced himself the girls' growing chuminess was a good thing; he didn't expect he'd have to convince Giles. "I think it's kind of cool that they're getting to be friends. Makes things a lot easier." By now he was loaded down with books, and he waited for Giles to assemble his own stack.

"I imagine it does at that," Giles replied, and he didn't need a raised eyebrow to draw a response from the boy, whose self-defense mechanisms were beginning to take the offense.

"What do you mean?" Xander asked curiously. Suspiciously.

Giles picked up the books and walked over to the table, followed by Xander. His sudden movements and increased pace betrayed a growing agitation.

"Well, I may be stuck in here most days, but it's fairly obvious that certain dynamics have affected your relationships in the last few months. Wouldn't you say?"

Walking behind Giles, Xander knew the man missed his "what the hell?!" expression. Giles' tone was an unsettling combination of conversational and petulant.

"Meaning Willow is with Oz and I'm with Cordelia. So?" He gratefully dropped the books on the table top, then rested his hands on top of a large volume, watching Giles. "It's called high school. This kind of thing happens all the time. If I might recommend some reading material ... "

"I know," Giles cut him off, skipping straight over petulant and into plain angry. "It's high school. And if that's all that it is, that's all that it is."

"But I guess that's not all it is, huh, sage-guy?" Xander demanded.

"Hmmm?" Giles turned back to his desk to gather more books. Xander immediately suspected that the sudden dismissiveness and devotion to this tedious task were Giles' attempts to avoid him--so he continued to follow.

"I mean, what do the 'dynamics' matter to you?" Xander's voice grew louder. "I thought you just sat in here and thought about ways to kill demons and nag Buffy."

"Yes, I guess that is what I do, mostly," Giles responded sharply. "Nag. However, it also gives me time to observe-- they don't call me a Watcher for nothing. And I just don't think you should be shocked that Willow hasn't called you."

Xander stopped and stared. "Are you accusing me of something?"

Giles took a deep breath. "No. It's just that, Willow was hurt, and I'm not sure that befriending Cordelia is the best way to mend her feelings."

"What? What does my relationship with Willow have to do with anything?" Xander was still rooted to the spot, stunned that this casual visit to the library had turned into a Jerry Springer episode.

"Oh, rest assured, it doesn't have much to do with anything," Giles answered coldly. "I only concern myself with it when Buffy or Willow are affected. Neither of them can afford to be distracted anymore. We've seen where that can lead."

"Oh, okay," Xander breathed, finally stepping fully into the role of outraged victim. "I get it. The Watcher is playing favorites again. Xander and Cordelia are bad. Buffy and Willow are good. Hell, you even come down on the side of Teen Wolf, who, by the way, *is* Willow's boyfriend now. Geez, do you sit up at night figuring out how to blame me and Cordy for everything? 'First, the dinosaurs came. Then, Cordelia and Xander were born. From there, it all went downhill ... '"

"Xander ... ," Giles began, trying to interrupt his rant.

"No, no one has ever accused me of knowing where to stop, so I'll just keep going," Xander insisted. "I know how you feel about everyone. You love Buffy, probably far beyond what you need to as a Watcher. You respect Willow, maybe even identify with her. I'm surprised you haven't turned her into a Watcher already." He watched Giles' face for a response, but the man's expression revealed nothing. "Cordelia ... well, you mostly dismiss Cordelia, which, by the way, makes her feel like crap." That surprised Giles, and Xander took some pleasure that he had finally elicited a reaction. "I know it's easy for you to believe that she doesn't have feelings, but she does."

He continued, "And me? I don't know what the hell you think about me. Most of the time you ignore me, if you're not making some snotty 'boiling-it-down-to-its-simplest-parts' speech or just telling me to shut up."

Xander stopped himself then, and was surprised to find that he was breathing heavily, and his face was hot. He waited for a word, any word, from the other man.

Giles sighed and pulled off his glasses, pocketing them. He brought his fingers to his temples, rubbing them briefly before responding, "Do you want to know what I think of you, Xander? Is that it, then?"

"Yeah, I do," Xander confirmed. "Cordelia and I have been in this from the beginning. We may not be your Slayer or your prized pupil, but we're in this all the way."

"*Are* you?" Giles asked suddenly. He abandoned the books, turned and leaned for support against the desk's edge, folding his arms across his chest. He stared challengingly at Xander. The silence that followed was broken only by the hum of the air conditioner kicking in. "Are you in this all the way, Xander?"

"Well, yeah," Xander said, momentarily confused. He felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck in response to the stare. "I even know the secret handshake and everything."

Giles, ignoring his weak attempt at humor, said simply, "Then let's talk about what happened with Angel."

Angel. Xander panicked, convinced that the Watcher knew he had lied to Buffy, that he hadn't told her Willow was going to try the spell one more time. He had hoped to avoid that particular revelation, at least until Buffy showed up again. "What about Angel?" he braved.

Giles looked down at the floor for a moment, and he seemed to be collecting his thoughts.

"The Watchers ... ," Giles began with a deep breath, then fell into silence before starting over. " ... We had never seen anything like Angel before. First, and for centuries, a demon unlike any that had come before him, one who took the purest pleasure in the act of destroying, not for food or out of hatred for humanity--simply pleasure in the act of giving pain. Then, almost miraculously, his soul is restored, giving the side of all that is good more than just a perfect weapon against the vampires, but giving us a trusted ally--someone who, maybe as much as I am, is devoted to the care and nurturing of the Slayer."

Though he felt a profound desire to scoff at the suggested depth of Angel's "devotion," Xander held his tongue.

"Buffy trusts him and cares for him so much that she gives him the one thing she will never give anyone else. Perhaps your modern culture has no appreciation for that gift anymore-- perhaps as a teenage boy it's no more than what you would expect to get in the back seat of someone's car--but to Buffy, it was the most precious thing she could give him."

Xander flushed even more deeply, uncomfortable at the turn the conversation was taking. "I don't think that's fair, Giles--"

Giles cut him off. "No, don't interrupt me. Don't clarify anything. Don't remind me of anything. I remember everything, Xander. It's my job to remember everything."

Xander met Giles' eyes briefly, and then nodded, capitulating.

Giles fell silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. "You know the rest. We had the great priviledge of witnessing what generations of Watchers and Slayers didn't see--Angelus at his full potential. From the moment he was changed, there were only two outcomes: destruction or restoration of his soul. Two options, Xander. Two doors-- one with a tiger, another an escape. Which one does the lady pick? What is the right solution? Do we let Angel live, hoping that our ally and friend will be returned to us, or do we destroy him, knowing that a part of Buffy will die as well? What do we do, Xander? Which door do we pick? Many a night I stayed up wondering that very thing."

Xander merely stared at Giles, his disbelief broadcast in his face.

"Yes, Xander," Giles sighed. "Even after Jenny died, I still found myself wondering. Even after that monster killed Jenny, and found the cruelest way to hurt me. Because Angel--our Angel--is still our ally and friend, and lover to the Slayer."

Giles slumped a little against the desk. Then, composing himself, he looked up at Xander, and his eyes were dark.

"Then, I was forced to wonder, Why do *you* hate Angel? Why don't *you* trust him?" He paused. "There's really only one reason that matters: Because you're in love with the Slayer."

"Now, that's not fair!" Xander insisted. "I was thinking about all of us, trying to do the best thing for all of us--it has nothing to do with how I feel about Buffy."

"Oh, come now," Giles continued. "Do you think I didn't notice, Xander? Do you think I've been a Watcher for most of my adult life and wouldn't be able to pick up on a boy's adolescent crush? You were jealous of Angel's relationship with Buffy, even before we knew who he was, and it colored your feelings about him for over a year. You were virtually jubilant when the curse was broken, in some frightening, sad way. You took every opportunity to berate Buffy and the rest of us for our lingering emotions about Angel. You closed your mind to the possibility of restoring his soul ... because you didn't like him.

"I lost Jenny because of Angel. He almost killed me, but I don't blame Buffy or her actions--or lack of action, as you continually pointed out--for any of it." Xander tried to interrupt, but Giles cut him off with a cold glance. "You blamed her, and I can't forget that."

Giles straightened and moved out of his office, looking behind to make sure Xander was following him. "Xander, you asked me how I feel about you. That's a difficult question to answer, so instead I gave you a history lesson. A year ago, if you had asked me that same question, I would have answered unequivocally: I trust you. From a Watcher, that is the highest compliment that can be paid."

They stopped in the middle of the library, and Xander crossed his own arms across his chest, unconsciously mimicking Giles.

"Now, I no longer have to ask myself what to do about Angel," Giles continued. "We can only assume that she destroyed him, that the pain of destroying him drove her from Sunnydale. And now that the biggest threat to Buffy's safety is gone, I have to be ever-vigilant for other threats. It is my sacred duty to protect the Slayer from all that would harm her. Tigers behind new doors. And so the only question I have left to ask is, Can I trust you?" He peered into Xander's face again, hard and searching, and then finished in a tone that was both quieter and kinder, and almost sad. "It's not a question for you to answer, Xander. It's a question I must answer. And I just don't know how to answer it yet."

Now it was Xander's turn to look at his feet; he suddenly found the sight of his Reeboks infinitely fascinating. After a minute went by in which neither of them moved, Xander confessed, "Geez, Giles--are you sure you're not someone's father? I feel crappier than when my dad found out I'd doctored my report card in sixth grade."

He heard a chuckle, and glanced up to find Giles, looking even more tired than he had before, replacing his glasses on his nose and smiling a little.

"Yes, well," Giles said, "You may have had a point about the nagging."

Xander snorted mildly, then lifted a hand to his face to rub his forehead. He was feeling pretty tired himself. "I don't really know what to say, Giles. Damn."

"That's the whole point, Xander," Giles said, his smile fading. "You don't have to say anything. I just want you to think about what has happened this year. Think about how things can be different. And remember one thing for me."

The Watcher's voice had become serious again, catching Xander's complete attention. "What?"

Giles picked up the sunglasses that Xander had thrown on the table and handed them over. "We both must remember ... No matter how much we suffer or sacrifice ... She had suffered and sacrificed more. Everything is harder for her. She is the Slayer."

Xander sighed. "I know. It may not seem like I do, but I know."

"Well, all right, then." From the tone in Giles' voice, Xander knew this conversation had come to an end. Giles stood and walked over to the emergency exit--Xander's cue to leave. He briefly wondered when the next "Deep Impact" showing began, and then thought that he had some unfinished business here. After retrieving his sunglasses, he walked past Giles' arm propping open the door.

Then he turned back.

"Do you think ... Maybe I can come by and help you tomorrow? If you've got book things to do? I'm getting better at doing book things, you know."

Giles smiled, and squinted at him a little in the bright sunlight. "That would be fine. I would enjoy the company."

"Me, too." Xander put on his sunglasses and stepped over to retrieve his bike.

"Xander?"

He pointed his bike in the direction of the sidewalk before looking back. "Yeah?"

"Say hello to Cordelia," Giles said carefully. "When you speak with her next. Tell her I hope she's well."

Xander nodded. "I will."

"Good-bye."

"Bye." And with that, Xander climbed on his bike and was off to the mall, to pay $4 for two hours of darkness and time to think.

THE END