Wrong
By nightshift

The usual disclaimers. All hail Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, etc. for making the world more interesting. None of the characters are mine. I own nothing except a beaten up 1992 Fort Escort. Want it? Take it. No, really, the doors don't lock and the tape deck doesn't work.
Spoilers: Um, yes. Up to halfway through Hell's Bells (Season 6). Then it takes a weird slide into my version of reality.
Distribution: If you want it, please ask. But flattery will get you everywhere. I do own this story and like to visit occasionally to make sure it has a good home.
Rating: R to be on the safe side-mostly for language. (most of the chapters probably PG-13. I'll make sure and mention at the beginning of a chapter if things slide into the NC-17 range, although I doubt it will happen.)
Title: Wrong
Author: nightshift
Email: kalliebailey@hotmail.com
Summary: Buffy's confused about Riley, upset about Spike, and worried about Dawn. Not to mention the whole "came back wrong" thing. Tara can't possibly be right, it's time for someone better versed in magic to take a look. Sounds like your cue, Giles.

She couldn't seem to stop crying. All she could say was the sporadic "I'm sorry". She had never been so miserable in her entire life. She had confessed her dirty secret to Giles and now he would hate her for it.

"Buffy." She really didn't want to talk right now, she just wanted to hang on to him and never let go. Never look him in the eyes again. She didn't want to see the look of disgust on his face, didn't want to see his revulsion for her. "Buffy, air." She slackened her grip a little, never removing her face from his shirt. He held her to him. One hand was gently smoothing her hair; one held her firmly to his chest. "Shhh." Shuddering breath. "Shhh." Slow breath in. Then out. He spoke calmly, consideringly. "You say he can hit you, hurt you. Were you...forced?" She thought for a minute, never raising her head. She didn't want to tell him the truth but if he was going to help her she owed it to him, even at the risk of losing whatever respect he had for her.

"We were fighting. He hit me without the usual chip-induced migraine and then he told me I came back wrong. I was hurt and scared; I had been feeling wrong anyways. Disconnected from life. Dark, violent. We kept fighting. I was taunting him like I always do. Then he said something...hateful. I started thinking about everyone I ever loved leaving. My dad, Angel, Riley, my mom, you. I just lost it and started kissing him to shut him up. Forced?" She laughed bitterly. "If anyone was forced, it was him. He didn't stand a chance against hurricane Buffy. That poor house didn't, either. When we woke up, it was in the basement with the house demolished around us. I don't know what was worse, though. The fact that I had just fucked another vampire." She felt his jerk at the rawness of her language. "Or that while it was happening I was the most connected I had felt to the real world since being dragged back into it."

"Do you have feelings for him?" His voice wavered a bit on 'feelings', but was still calm. His voice might say everything's okay, but his eyes probably couldn't. She wasn't ready to see his eyes yet.

She shook her head slowly. "I don't even think I like him. I used him. The sex was great. I'm disgusted with myself for some of the things we did, but mostly I used it to forget about my screwed up life. I could do the same with drugs or alcohol. Or evidently magic, but I'm not going there, either. But it's not love if that's what you're asking. I used him to feel something for a while and to stop my skin from buzzing." He was still holding her closely, still stroking her hair.

"Why Spike?" Barely whispered, almost inaudible. She felt it against her hair more than she actually heard it.

She shrugged. Okay, flippant answers time. "Xander was already taken? No chance of pregnancy? And the morning after I can always dust him. Or maybe it's the accent. I mean, I've always had a thing for guys with an accent." He flinched. "Believe it or not, because I knew he wouldn't tell anyone. Some I think because he hasn't left me, yet. Maybe a little because it won't hurt me if he does leave." His hand froze in midmotion.

He took a deep breath. "Buffy, I never meant to hurt you." Again, almost inaudible. As close as they were, without her slayer hearing she would never have heard him.

Like a flash fire, rage swept over her. "Giles, you left. Me. All. Alone. Just a check, a 'call me if you need me' and goodbye. Why not just leave cab fare on the nightstand? I would've felt less..." She pushed away from him and he released her.

"Less what?" Great, now that she wanted it, he was avoiding eye contact. She started to pace the room.

"Look at me and I'll tell you." She stalked over to him, controlled anger in her every move. He looked into her eyes, seeing the hurt and barely contained fury. "I would've felt less abandoned. At least then I would have known it was temporary. You and me. Watcher and Slayer. Merrick died for me. Wesley left. You stayed, even after the Council fired you. I've had three Watchers, Giles. How many Slayers have EVER had three Watchers? It was supposed to be us together for as long as I lived. Maybe that's why I know I'm not alive anymore." She hissed out the last sentence between clenched teeth. "I can't feel anything because you're not here." She spun away from him and stormed into the bathroom.

Eventually, she composed herself and splashed cool water on her face. No evidence she had been crying. Yeah, right Buffy. Nobody can tell. I mean, it's not like your eyes aren't red and puffy. Not to mention the Rudolph thing with the nose. Okay. Settle down. Now go out and face him. Apologize for screaming. Good thing this is an expensive hotel and the walls are soundproofed. Deep breath. Open the door. She slipped out silently. What was Giles doing on the couch? Laughing? Crying? She snuck around in front of him on cat feet. She knelt in front of him and put her hands on his knees. He jumped. "Giles, I didn't mean to be cruel." He looked anywhere but at her. "Please, talk to me. I can't control it. I'm so angry, so hateful. Oh, God, I think Spike was right. I came back wrong and I can't stop hurting everyone I love." She curled herself into a ball, head bowed, arms wrapped around her legs.

He slid off the couch and enclosed her in his arms. "No. Buffy, you can't think that." She tried to turn from him, but she had no leverage from this position and no desire to injure him. "Buffy, look at me." She shook her head and tucked her chin more closely to her chest. He held her closely and rocked her, letting her cry out all her frustration and heartbreak. Eventually she started to relax against him, snuggling closer and finally wrapping her arms around him.

"Giles, I've been so lost." Tiny voice, unsure and afraid. The last time she had used this voice was after her mother died. Before that, it was when she was sixteen and about to face the Master. "I can't go to college. They turned down my readmission application. I can't get a decent job or even keep the lousy one I have. I have no skills, unless you count slaying. I'm a rotten parent. I can't keep Dawn under control. You were right to leave. I'm just a great big failure. I even screwed up dying. Twice. The worst part is that I can't stand to be in the same room with my friends half the time because they dragged me back. I think that was part of why I turned to Spike. He'd been there; he understood. He'd dug his way out of a coffin, too. He guarded my back, and wasn't expecting anything in return. He had...hope, but no expectations. He knew I didn't love him, but was willing to let me use him just so he could be with me." Giles was silent, listening to her reason things out.

"It was nice, being wanted. No expectations, no explanations. Until Riley showed up and started me thinking again. I was embarrassed that he saw me working. I mean, Doublemeat Palace, home of the perpetual losers? Then I thought 'he came for me' and the demon infestation was an excuse. Then I met his wife. He didn't even tell me he was married--she did that. Then I realized that he just wanted Sam to meet the failure he'd left behind." This was said a little bitterly, but without malice. "Then he suggested we go on patrol for awhile. Me and Sam. Hey, perfect wife; meet the colossal blunder I made earlier in my life. I wanted him to catch me with Spike. I wanted to hurt him for giving me hope, even for a little while. I hurt Spike, who in his own screwed up way has been a friend."

Giles took a deep breath. Buffy recognized it as his 'organizing thoughts before I speak' breath. She waited patiently while trying to figure out how she'd ended up wrapped around him when she'd started out curled in a ball. "Starting with the immediate financial problem, have you ever considered teaching?" This certainly wasn't the problem she'd expected him to start with. Or a solution she expected to hear. At her snort of amazement, he continued. "You are certainly qualified to teach self defense or martial arts. You are more fit and a better fighter than anyone else in Sunnydale."

She leaned back and looked at him. "Not a bad idea. And if I teach during the daytime, I can still have time for slayage and Dawn patrol at night. I just have to remember to control the super strength. Wouldn't want to kill the paying customers. Okay, another crisis solved. Or at least looked into." She smiled at him. "Now on to the more daunting ones."

"Before we move on, I should like a change of location. While it is rather comfortable for a floor, there is a perfectly serviceable sofa right there. Or...if you would prefer not to sit quite so closely there are also chairs in this suite."

"Hmmm, couch I think. I'm liking the whole wrapped in your arms thing. Makes it a lot easier to tell secrets and bad things when I'm not shouting them across the room. Seems more..." She paused, at a loss for words.

"Intimate?"

"But not in a intimate, intimate we just had sex kinda way." She could feel his spine stiffen. "Giles, I just meant that I know you don't think of..." She paused, at a loss for words.

"Women? Sex at all? After all, I'm old, probably neutered, and definitely harmless." His voice was irritated, growly. Sexy. Whoa, Buff. Where did THAT come from?

Annoyed, she finished her statement. "I meant me. In that way. I'm a hardship, a screwed up mess. An obstacle to you getting on with your life back home in England." She felt his wordless protest, but stubbornly continued on. "Now I've had the bad taste to get myself ripped from heaven after being safely dead. And to do it in such a manner that I'm wrong. Dark. Angry. I play with my prey, like a cat would a mouse. That I even consider them prey is scaring me. Not vampires, not demons. Prey. I asked Tara to look into the spell they used, research it to find out what's wrong with me, why I feel this way and why Spike can hit me in spite of his chip. She says nothing is wrong with me, that it's a big cosmic sunburn. Giles, there's more to it than that but I don't know enough about the magic. It's not that I'm not willing to try the research road, but with magic the signposts and mile markers are in a language I can't read or understand." She untangled herself from him, stood up, and then sat on the couch, patting the cushion next to her. He stood and paced for a brief while before joining her.

"Do you remember the first time you...er...when the Master..."

"Yes, I remember the first time I died. God, Giles, now is not the time to get delicate on me. What do you want to know about it?" She looked at him, watching his thoughts scroll across his face.

"Remember, I said you should rest. Then you said you felt better, stronger than you ever had?"

"Yeeaaahhh?"

"How long did the feeling last?"

"It never left. I thought that's why I lived so long, because I was stronger than your average slayer."

"Buffy, this is completely new territory here. There has never been another slayer to come back from the dead, not once but twice. There have been several that have been turned, but never revived. Strengthwise, how do you feel now?"

She pondered for a minute. "I think I'm the same strength. I think I'm faster, though. Either that or I've fought so much I can anticipate moves. Hey, either one entirely possible. But I still feel...unfocussed. Like there's something not right with me. Sometimes I can barely move, barely concentrate. Other times, I'm so buzzed that I feel like I'm coming right out of my skin, like it doesn't fit me anymore."

"Does anything help either feeling? Talking, eating, fighting? Anything?"

She looked down. "Two things." Long silence. She refused to continue.

"Buffy, I can hardly help if I don't know what I'm looking for. The more information you give me, the better I'll be able to research the problem."

"Yeah, I suppose big, ugly, scaly was never much to go on, huh?" She gave a wistful smile. He couldn't help but return it.

"No, it never was. Now, stop stalling."

"Fighting helps. The whole stalk 'em, chase 'em, kill 'em thing. If I get enough fighting to tire me out, I'm fine. I can go straight home and eat or sleep with no problems. The problem is that if there isn't a good enough fight, it leads to the other thing that helps." She stopped. He just looked at her, urging her with his eyes to continue. "Giles, it's really hard to tell you this. The thing that worries me the most is that Faith used to tell me the same thing. If the slaying isn't … satisfying…I get really… I mean I need to… I…" She blushed and looked away, shame evident in her voice. "Dammit Giles, I get so horny I can't stand it. Seriously, big time, even Spike looks good, boink all night horny." He had no reply, just a sharp intake of breath.

She peered over at her watcher, worried about his silence. He had an uneasy look on his face. "Giles, what is it? Am I going to go all evil psychobitch like Faith?"

"I have to talk to Willow about the spell they used. I'm not certain, but I have an inkling of what may be the problem." He put his hand on her shoulder. "We will get this straightened out, Buffy. I promise you that." She turned and rested her cheek on his hand.

"I know we will. I'm just worried that we won't have enough research time before I do something so bad that I have to be stopped. Giles, promise me if I have to be killed when I turn evil that you'll do it. I…I'll try not to fight you. I just want it to be someone who won't make me suffer. I've already died at the hands of a vampire and I died saving the world." She looked at him, eyes filling with tears and whispered, "just please make it gentle. Promise me it won't hurt." She scooted over until she was again in his arms; then started sobbing as if her heart were broken. He held her, making soothing sounds and gently rubbing her back and arms.

"Buffy, it won't come to that. You don't have the capacity for evil. You have a generous, loving heart and care for others in a way Faith never did. You're just confused and angry right now, not evil."

"Promise me. I don't want to hurt anyone, but if I do…please, for me, Giles. I want someone who cares, who knows me. Someone who loves me, someone I trust to do it right, as painlessly as possible. And I want to be cremated, so I can't be turned, can't be brought back wrong again."

"I promise you, but I swear to you it won't come to that. I won't let it come to that." His embrace tightened around her and he kissed her forehead with barely restrained violence. "It can't come to that."

Then a thought occurred to her and she reminded him. "Giles, you can't do this. They won't call you until it's too late, until I've already killed someone. By the time you get a flight here, everyone else I love might be dead. I might have already killed my sister."

"Buffy, listen to me. You are NOT going to turn evil. However, until we get this figured out, I'm going to stay right here beside you. I will not go back to England with you in this condition." At his promise, the tension seemed to flow out of her. Muscle by muscle she relaxed, and seconds later she was sound asleep.

"Buffy, wake up." She awakened slowly, gently coming out of a deep sleep. "We have to go get Dawn from the swimming pool. We have reservations for seven." Food sounded really good. She slowly opened her eyes and saw an unfamiliar room. Where had she been sleeping? Oh, yeah, Giles' hotel room.

"I'm sorry Giles. We were supposed to talk and I fell asleep. Did I sleep with my head on your lap the whole time? How long was I out?" She scooted back and put her feet on the floor.

"You were asleep for about four hours. You didn't even stir when I moved your feet on to the sofa. I don't mind, you obviously needed the sleep."

"You could've moved. You didn't have to act as Giles the human pillow the entire time."

"Both times I tried to move away, you got agitated. When I moved back so that we had contact again, you settled into a deeper sleep. I knew you hadn't been getting the rest you need, so I just kept acting as a headrest."

"Oh. In that case, can I help you research tomorrow? I know I'm not any good at it, but I can sure use the sleep."

"How much rest have you been getting at night?"

"No more than three or four hours. I just can't get to sleep, and when I do, I can't stay asleep. I have nightmares and wake up screaming. Mostly waking up in a coffin nightmares, but some of them about other weird stuff."

"Where is Willow?" At her shrug, he went to the telephone. "I'm going to try your house first, then the Magic Box, just in case she and Tara went there. Starting on Monday, I know they're working there until Anya gets back from the honeymoon. I don't know Tara's new telephone number, so calling there is not an option. I want to get the spellbook they used to bring you back. I want to start researching tonight after dinner." There was no answer at either place he called.

She looked at him somberly. If Giles was worried enough to interrupt Willow and Tara she had to be pretty bad off. She got up, went into the bathroom and cleaned up and then came back out. "Okay, let's get Dawn. I'm starving." As he started to rise, the telephone rang. Since she was already up, Buffy got it. "Mr. Giles room."

"Buffy, there's a phone at the pool, so don't yell at me. I'm wiped out and freezing. Can I come up, please?"

"Dawn? We were just coming down to get you. Do you know the room number? Come on up."

"I'll be right there." Then there was a click and a dial tone.

Buffy turned to Giles. "If you want to use your bathroom, do it now. Dawn will want a shower, she hates to smell like chlorine." He nodded and grabbed a sweater then retreated into the restroom. Shortly after that, there was a knock on the door. Buffy let her sister in.

"I promise it won't take long, but I need a shower. I smell all chemically. Where's Giles?"

"He's changing his shirt. Then it's all yours. Be quick, I'm starving and I don't want to miss our reservation time."

"Yeah, me neither. I've been starving and freezing for the last hour. Hey, you look better. No dark circles. Were you sleeping or something?"

"Yeah. For the first time in a long time, I slept for about four hours."

"Figures. I'm exercising, you're sleeping. Hey, my turn in the bathroom. Back shortly." She went into the just vacated bathroom. "Oooh, they have the expensive shampoo. Cool." She shut the door.

"Giles, I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I appreciate dinner. Not just for me, for Dawn, too."

He blushed slightly. "You shouldn't want for anything, Buffy. You or Dawn. You won't while I have any say in the matter."

"Yeah, but I'm gonna try not to get too spoiled. Otherwise I'll expect to be treated this way all the time and let's face it, California guys aren't this sweet. Who am I kidding? Nobody but my all time favorite English guy is this sweet." She walked over to him and gave him a hug. "I've missed you." She looked up and smiled at him. Then she put her head back on his chest and sighed. "I could stay here all night. It would be the most sleep I've had since I came back." Her stomach growled audibly. Small, embarrassed laugh. "Well, after I eat." She let him go and had a seat on the couch. "Dawn won't be long. Hey, are we walking or did you rent a car?"

"I have a rental. One of you will have to fold yourself into a tiny backseat, though. It is quite small."

Buffy shrugged. "My legs are shortest. I guess I'm backseat girl. Dawn just keeps on getting taller. I guess she took after dad, I took after mom. I'm just glad she's not klutzy. Remember Xander's high school growth spurt? I didn't think he was ever gonna be bruise free. He kept complaining that every time he figured out where the ends of his arms and legs were, they had grown out another half-inch." They both laughed at the memory.

After a very brief time, Dawn emerged. "No clean clothes, but at least I don't smell like chlorine. I'm ready, let's go."

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