a phantom of delight - 3

Drusilla sat back in her chair, glancing up from the book she had been reading and looking around
the library.  She had decided against going home and chosen instead to stay at the library to help Giles
with his research.  The rest of the group had been there too, but Melissa had dragged them all away.
Drusilla was fairly certain that was not a coincidence.  She was playing matchmaker.  "Well, I hope it
works," she thought to herself, then felt guilty.  "You shouldn't be hoping that poor man gets sabotaged
into falling for you," she admonished herself.  Her gaze was drawn to the Watcher, who sat at his
counter reading a giant old book.  He suddenly laughed and Drusilla started, looking quickly away
before he noticed her staring at him.  "Wait a minute," she thought suspiciously.  "That big old book
shouldn't be funny."  "What are you reading?" she said aloud, startling Giles.
    "Um, I'm just doing some research.  This is an old Watcher text," he answered, blushing slightly
which indicated to Drusilla that he was lying.
    "Really?  I never knew old Watcher texts were so amusing," she teased, walking quickly over to the
counter and looking behind the big book before he had a chance to hide what he was really reading.
"'The Vampire Lestat', huh?  Is it good?" she asked, smiling at him.
    "Well, um, y-yes actually," Giles stammered, her smile disarming him.  Why was he feeling so
awkward?  This had been the strangest night, and he had discovered things, both about himself and
about Drusilla, that he didn't quite understand.  But still, was that a reason to start feeling like a school
boy again?  There was just something about Drusilla that made him feel comfortable and completely off
guard at the same time.  He was confused.  "Drusilla, now that we're alone will you please tell me
something?" he asked, finally deciding that the best way to get the answers he needed was to ask.
When she nodded, he continued, "Why won't you drink fresh blood.  I know that Angel and Spike don't
kill humans any more, but they do kill animals.  Why don't you do that?"
    Drusilla took time to organize her thoughts before she answered.  She wanted desperately to make
sense to him, so she made sure that her explanation would be logical.  When she finally spoke, her
voice was soft and thoughtful, "Do you know how I became insane?  Angel killed my entire family, but
that didn't drive me completely over the edge.  I was distraught but not insane.  When he made me into
a vampire I had no idea what was going on, but I still was sane.  Then he brought me my first kill.  It
was a child, and as I neared him, his fear radiated off him like heat.  When I drained him, his memories,
emotions, and thoughts poured into me.  This happens to all vampires, but with psychics it is much
more powerful.  The barrage broke whatever it was in my mind that had held onto sanity, and in that
instant I became a monster.  It took over a hundred years for my mind to heal.  When I met Melissa I
was still mad, but the touch of her mind on mine helped return my sanity.  I'm not sure why I pretended
to be insane after that.  It just seemed like a good idea at the time.  I continued to kill after that, but I was
always careful to keep my shields in place.  That way I wouldn't lose my sanity again.  After getting your
girlfriend killed and not being able to stop Angel from nearly killing Willow and Xander, though, I decided
to just stop killing.  There was already to much death in the world.  Besides, you all befriended me and I
owed it to you," she concluded and looked up to find Giles staring at her.
    "So, you blame yourself for her death, too," he said finally.
    "It's my fault," Drusilla answered, a tear slipping free and rolling down her cheek.
    "I think we've both spent the past two years feeling guilty for something we didn't do," Giles told her.  "I
also think we should stop doing that.  Neither one of us killed her, so neither one of us is to blame."
    "But, if I hadn't told Angel..." she protested.
    "And if I hadn't allowed her to stay by herself at the school at night, she might still be alive," Giles
interrupted her.  "But we don't know that.  She could have died the next day in a car accident, or the
next week.  We can't be sure of what would have happened.  All that matters is that she's gone and
nothing's going to bring her back.  I think we both need to get past that.  So, no more trips to her grave
for either one of us.  It's time to let her rest.  She'll understand."
    "Okay," she agreed, then she smiled, her eyes dancing.  "So, now I've told you my deepest, darkest
secret.  What's yours?"
    "I don't have any secrets," Giles answered quickly, not liking the direction the conversation was
taking.  He never felt comfortable talking about himself.
    "You must have at least one secret," Drusilla protested.  "Make us some tea and tell me," she
commanded.
    "You can drink tea?" he asked before he could stop himself.  "Good job," he thought to himself.
"Demonstrate your resounding ignorance."
    "No, I can't actually," she answered, seeing the embarrassed look on his face and sympathizing with
him.  "I like the way the warm cup feels though.  I thought you might want some."
    "Are you thirsty?  I think we keep a bottle of blood for Spike and Angel in the refrigerator in my office.
I could heat some up for you if you'd like," Giles offered, hoping that she would pick up on the unspoken
message underlying what he said.
    She did.  He was telling her that he didn't mind watching her feed.  It wouldn't bother him.  With that
statement he was accepting her, as she was, to be his friend.  She smiled broadly and nodded.  "I'd like
that.  Thank you," she answered.
    He busied himself with making the tea and heating the blood, and then returned to the main room of
the library.  He placed the cup of blood next to her on the table where she had sat down.  Then he sat in
the chair opposite her and sipped his tea thoughtfully.  "Let me see," he said finally, as Drusilla
tentatively put the cup of blood to her mouth.  He watched her as she sipped the warm blood then
continued, "My deepest, darkest secret.  How about the fact that I hate being a Watcher?"
    "You do?" Drusilla asked, surprised.  She always assumed that he loved his duty the way Melissa
loved her duty to protect Willow.
    "Yes.  I don't think those girls deserve to have their lives taken away from them, and yet I'm the one
who has to do it.  I hated myself for making Buffy be the Slayer when she clearly didn't want to.  I also
hate that I'm just supposed to stand by while I let children save the world.  I hate that I have to hide while
a teenager kills vampires for me.  I always wanted a life where I would be taking charge.  Did you know
that I wanted to be a fighter pilot when I was growing up?" Giles asked, his eyes staring off into space.
    "A fighter pilot?  Is that one of those people who flies planes and drops bombs and stuff?" she asked,
wondering at this side of Giles that she had never seen before.
    "Yes.  It was dangerous.  That's the kind of life I wanted to lead."
    "Your life is dangerous," Drusilla said, feeling the need to defend the Watcher part of him.
    "I know, but I have to rely on somebody else to defeat the danger.  A fighter pilot does it himself."
    "Well, you're like the general.  He doesn't go into battle, but without him the pilots wouldn't know what
to do.  You are just as important as the Slayer is."
    "Thank you Drusilla," Giles smiled.  "Okay, now that you know my deepest, darkest secret can I ask
you a favor?"  Drusilla knew what he was going to ask, but she nodded anyway.  "Good," he said.  "Will
you please drink some fresh blood?  You don't have to drink a lot and you don't have to kill anything.
Even a little blood would make you stronger, though, right?"  When she nodded again he continued,
"We all need you.  I can bring you whatever you want."
    "Why don't you go to the pound tomorrow and get a dog or something?  They're probably just going
to kill them anyway.  I'll drink a little, not enough to kill it, and then I could have a pet.  I think that would
be nice.  I would have someone to take care of," she smiled brightly, her eyes flashing with happiness.
    As Giles looked at her he was reminded of a poem he had read once by William Wordsworth.  He
had written it about his wife and somehow it seemed to fit the way Giles was feeling at the moment.
Two years ago he never would have believed that he would end up caring about whether or not
Drusilla was happy.  Now, however, seeing her smile lit up his world.  He didn't want to think about why
just yet.  He was content just to let things develop naturally.  As he watched Drusilla, who had launched
into a monologue on what she would name her dog and all the stuff she would get for it, he recalled the
words to that poem.  It was called "She Was a Phantom of Delight" and it fit his beautiful new friend
perfectly:

        She was a phantom of delight
        When first she gleamed upon my sight;
        A lovely apparition, sent
        To be a moment's ornament;
        Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
        Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
        But all things else about her drawn
        From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
        A dancing shape, an image gay,
        To haunt, to startle and waylay.

This was the first verse and just remembering it filled Giles with joy.  It had long been one of his favorite
poems, but he had forgotten about it over the years as love didn't present itself to him.  When it finally
did, Jenny was not the sort of woman who inspired poetry.  She was just a little too modern.  Drusilla,
on the other hand, seemed the type of woman who would appreciate a good poem when she heard it.
He smiled at her as she finally ran out of ideas about her new dog, then something occurred to him.
"You know," he said to her.  "That explanation you gave me about why you hate Jenny earlier didn't
make a whole lot of sense.  Do you hate everybody who throws away love?"
    "Okay," Drusilla answered.  "I hate her because I'm falling in love with you and she hurt you.  I left the
flowers at her grave because I thought that maybe they make you happy."  Giles opened his mouth to
respond, but she put her finger to his lips, quieting him.  "Shh, don't answer.  I'm not looking for a
declaration of love or anything.  You asked and if we're going to be friends, which I hope we can be, I
need to be honest.  I don't want to lie to you, so that's how I feel.  I would like to let you get to know me
better.  If you fall in love with me, well that's fabulous.  But if you don't, then we can be friends."
    Giles was astonished.  She had managed to completely floor him.  "'A phantom of delight' indeed,"
he thought to himself.  "I think I actually might be able to fall in love with this woman.  But if not, I'll at least
get a really good friend out of the bargain."  He looked up at Drusilla and smiled.  "I think I would like
that," he told her.  "I've got an idea.  Tomorrow night we'll let everybody take care of themselves and
you and I can go somewhere to talk.  You can tell me about this Lestat fellow."
    "All right.  That sounds nice.  But only if you'll tell me more about what being a fighter pilot would be
like.  It sounds like it might be fun," she laughed and soon Giles joined in.  They laughed together, both
of them finding real happiness for the first time in years, and the loneliness that had taken hold of them
was defeated once and for all.

Phantom of Delight Menu
Fan Fiction Chamber