Why?
I'm not sure what it was that woke me. Some random sound of the building settling,
perhaps, or a car passing by outside. I lifted my head off the table and rubbed
the sleep out of my eyes as best I could. Having met with only limited success,
I groped for my glasses and put them on before turning to survey the library.
It was a mess, of course. Books strewn everywhere. Empty bags of potato chips and half-filled cans of soda all over my formerly clean tables. The carpet has been horribly stained since I arrived here, but I was glad to see that nothing new had spilled.
We'd been pulling an "all-nighter," as the others would say. I'd come across a disturbing prophecy earlier in the week, and we'd been researching into the wee hours ever since. The prophecy was so vague that it was quite possible it wouldn't involve Sunnydale even if it came to pass, but there was no way to be sure. We had to treat it as if it were an imminent threat.
The late hours had obviously taken their toll. Not only on me, but on Buffy and Willow as well. They were both asleep on the couch we'd dragged out from my office, leaning against each other. Buffy was snoring softly. They were quite adorable, really, and I felt a rush of warm protectiveness overcome me as I watched them. I had to make sure the prophecy was no threat to them.
"Cute, aren't they?"
Xander's voice shattered my thoughts and left me blinking in momentary confusion. I turned towards him, surprised that he was still awake. I was even more surprised when I saw what he was doing.
He was sitting on the stairs, books all around him. Several of them were open, and it looked like he had marked pages in all of them with slips of paper. It was clear he'd been working while the rest of us had slept.
"What time is it?" was all I could think to ask.
Xander glanced pointedly at the watch on my wrist, then looked down at his own. "Four thirty," he said. "Damn," he added, rubbing his eyes. "Later than I thought."
It was later than I had thought, as well. "Have you had any rest?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I think I nodded off for a few minutes. I'm good. We've got a movie in English first period, and I've got study hall second period, so I can catch up then."
I started to say something, then changed my mind. "Have you found anything interesting?" I asked instead, gesturing towards his books.
"I have no idea," he answered. "Maybe. I marked everything that even looked like it might fit." He stood up carefully, trying not to dislodge the pile of books that surrounded him.
I got up quickly and moved to help him. Together, we managed to move all the books to the table without losing the order he'd placed them in.
We sat back down and Xander took me through everything he'd found. I eliminated a lot of it right away, but there were quite a few references that warranted further investigation. We put those aside for later as we worked our way through the rest of the stack.
It took us over an hour to finish, and by that time Xander was clearly exhausted. He showed no signs of wanting to stop, however.
"Xander," I said, as he reached for a new book to look through. He looked up at me, and I went on. "You should get some rest. You're due in classes in only a couple of hours."
"I'm okay," he insisted.
"No, you're not," I countered. "I can take it from here easily enough. Besides, even our worst case estimate says the prophecy won't come to pass for at least two more days. We can do more work tonight."
Xander shook his head. "I want to get this done now. We might not have as much time as we think." He turned his attention back to the book.
I watched him for a few moments, trying to understand this new side. But it wasn't really new, once I thought about it. Xander had always been one to complain when it came to research, but he did his share just the same. This was above and beyond, however, and I had no idea why.
"Xander," I asked, "why are you doing this?"
He looked at me in confusion. "What do you mean? We have to stop this thing. At least, if it's real we do."
I nodded. "Yes, I know. But that's not what I meant. Why do you do this at all?" I could see he didn't understand me. "Any of this, I mean," I went on, waving my hand to encompass the library, all of Sunnydale and the Hellmouth.
I sighed when I saw he still didn't catch my meaning. "I'm a Watcher," I explained. "I've been trained to fight against the forces of darkness since before you were born. That's why I'm here. Not just here, right now, of course, but here in Sunnydale, risking my life. Buffy is the Slayer. She's been gifted with extraordinary abilities in order to fight evil. That's why she's here. Why are you here? Why do you help?"
"It's not that your help isn't appreciated," I hurried on as I saw his face darken. "You've been more helpful than I ever would have imagined upon first meeting you, actually. But I don't understand why. You don't have to be involved in all this. You could live a normal life. I don't understand why you choose not to."
I watched Xander's face as he thought about how to answer. He went from offended and hurt to thoughtful in just a few moments.
"Those aren't the only reasons you're here," he said softly. "You and Buffy, I mean. You're a Watcher and she's the Slayer, yeah. But do you really think those are the only reasons you do this?"
I saw what he meant, but he pushed on before I could answer. "No," he said. "You do it because it's the right thing to do. Innocent people would die if you didn't do this. That's the real reason, isn't it?"
He was right, of course. I wasn't a Watcher merely because it was my job, but because it was a task worth doing. Saving lives is always a worthy cause, whether it's your destiny or not.
Now I realized why Xander had been so offended that I'd ask why he helped. That had been unforgivably thoughtless of me. I opened my mouth to apologize somehow, but Xander spoke first.
"That's not why I do it, Giles." He chuckled at my mystification, then went on. "Not the only reason, I mean. Not the big reason. Of course I want to help protect people. I'm not going to let anyone die if I can help it. Willow raised me better than that. But that's not the real reason I help."
"What is the real reason?" I asked after a moment, when it was clear he wasn't going to explain further on his own.
Instead of answering, he turned to look towards the couch where Buffy and Willow still slept. The smile that graced his face as he watched them was all the answer I needed, really.
"Yeah," he said after turning back to me, seeing that I understood. "I do it for them, so they'll be okay. And I do it for Jesse," he went on, his face clouding as he remembered how his other best friend had died.
"Xander," I said, familiar with the path his thoughts were taking. "you didn't kill Jesse."
"I know," he assured me unconvincingly. "I know it, but I don't feel it. But it doesn't matter, really. Jesse's dead, and I staked him. That's all that really matters. And if I can help make sure that no one else dies, or no one else has to kill the demon that used to be their best friend, that's a good thing. That's another reason I do this," he finished, looking into my eyes.
I looked back into his. "Right, then," I said, because it was all that came to mind. "Shall we get back to it?"
"We shall," Xander said.
And we did, going through yet more books, trying to find the missing piece of information that might save someone's life. After a few minutes of that, Xander looked up from his book again and caught my eye.
"You wouldn't have asked Willow, would you?"
It took me a moment to understand. When I did, my face flushed in shame. He was right. It would never have occurred to me to ask Willow why she risked her life to help save others. With Xander, though, I'd felt the need to ask.
"You're right," I admitted. "I wouldn't have asked her. I'm sorry."
Xander nodded. "Thank you," is all he said.
And then we went back to work.
END
*****