Anywhere But Here, FRT, Giles/Xander
Anywhere But Here
Written by anyjay for spring_with_xan
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Setting: Post-Chosen
Rating: FRT
Warnings: Extreme fluff
A series of drabbles with alternating POVs, total word count: 4400.
Disclaimer: They belong to Joss and ME. I make no money. I have no rights.
Feedback: Yes, please. Especially, please let me know if I have Giles using words/phrases that are more American than British.
The first section of this was posted earlier this year, because I couldn’t get the rest of the story to come together. Thanks to all the folks who encouraged me to keep working on this, especially kargrif who offered helpful suggestions, which gave me a starting place, even if I ultimately ended up not using them.
Amy Yip and the waterslide park are forgotten. For the past 8 months, Xander’s 'anywhere but here' has been Rupert Giles at the Motel 6 half an hour outside of Sunnydale. That's what he imagines when he wants a happy thought.
Buffy, Willow and, yeah, probably even Giles would think he was nuts. But there had been a moment there. And okay, he’d been pretty-much-unconscious-guy, but he hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t.
He’d come partially awake with Giles spooned against his back and Giles’ arm draped around him, and an intense feeling that he was finally where he belonged. His brain had been just aware enough to realize sleep: good, reality: highly overrated. So Xander had nestled a little deeper into Giles’ arms, and drifted off again.
When he woke up for real, he was alone in the bed. Andrew was snoring on a rollaway cot. Xander had a throbbing pain on the left side of his face where his eye had been. Pretty much everything he owned was at the bottom of a sinkhole. He had no idea where his parents and Uncle Rory were, or if they were even alive. Robin and Rona were in the hospital. Anya was dead.
So the freaking about discovering he belonged in Giles’ arms - when he’d always been very, very not-gay -- that had to stand in line behind the freaking about absolutely everything else in his life.
And by the time it got to the head of the line, freaky? Not so much.
*******
Giles still dreams of it.
There’d been a large group to care for, and Giles had had no idea when any of them would have an income again. So he’d crammed everyone as tightly as possible into rooms at the Motel 6. Robin was in hospital. The three remaining men had a room with a double bed and a camp bed. Giles had fallen into one side of the double bed with no thought of anything except his own exhaustion.
When he woke up, however, his body was wrapped around Xander’s. Xander who, Giles suddenly realized, was both sexy and adult. It felt lovely, and Giles had to quell the urge to kiss the back of Xander’s neck. Xander was straight, and had been through quite enough lately without the emotional trauma of a pass from a man he saw as a father figure.
Giles had begun to pull away, but Xander’s breathing immediately changed. Giles had forced himself to relax. Feigning sleep seemed less embarrassing all round than acknowledging the situation. After a moment, Xander had shifted slightly backwards towards Giles and made a small noise - which couldn’t possibly have been the contented sigh it sounded like - and begun to snore softly. Giles had stayed pressed up against Xander until the young man shifted positions and Giles could leave the bed without waking him. An act of kindness for a friend. Xander had lost so much. All Giles could give him was this chance to sleep undisturbed.
If Giles had enjoyed holding Xander in his arms, no one need know. Shouldn’t kindness be its own reward?
*******
Xander is clueless. He admits it. He has somehow reached the advanced age of 23 without ever being the one to make the first move, except with Buffy, which had so not been a success, and demon chick - who would have said yes to any potential sacrifice. He needs something suave, sophisticated. Something that will make Giles see him as a mature, desirable man, instead of the boy loser from Sunnydale high.
He’s got nothing.
Okay, screw sophistication. Xander thinks instead about what worked on him. Cordelia’s method - because no matter what she said, she had totally kissed him first - depends on being trapped and terrified. He’ll use it if opportunity knocks, but isn’t quite desperate enough to hope for impending death.
Faith’s strategy is out. He’s not sure he could pick Giles up and throw him down on the bed. And there’s really nothing about that experience Xander wants to repeat.
Anya’s approach had been straightforward and effective. Xander makes an excuse to talk with Giles alone in Giles’ bedroom. But then he completely loses his nerve. What was he thinking! Instead of taking off all his clothes and demanding sex, he panics, babbles briefly about drywall and runs.
Impending death may be his only hope.
*******
Giles is finding it increasingly difficult to act normally around Xander. Sharing a house, even a very large house, with the man you lust after, the man who is far too young and far too heterosexual for you, is a tremendously bad idea. Particularly if that man spends the majority of his time performing physical tasks that show off his muscles and cover him in sweat.
Xander’s renovation plans include retiling one of the lavs. When he comes back from the home improvement store with all the needed supplies, including knee pads, Giles’ brain goes to a very bad place.
Giles makes excuses to spend time with Xander, bringing him a beer while he’s working, asking about his progress, what supplies he’ll be needing. Then one day, he walks by as their youngest slayer, Maria, is handing Xander a bottle of water. He stands back and watches as she chatters, giggles, twirls her hair and gives Xander sidelong looks while he drinks. The good news is that Xander is just as oblivious to Giles’ motives as he is to Maria’s. The bad news is that Giles apparently has all the finesse of a 13-year-old girl in the throes of her first crush.
*******
Xander is finally a man with a plan: ‘Operation: Accidental Touching”. There are only two problems with the plan. It has the world’s least sexy acronym and it isn’t working. At all.
Xander brushes lightly against Giles when he passes him in the hall. Giles says, “Pardon me,” in an absentminded way, and keeps walking. Xander ‘accidentally’ lets his hand run down the outside of Giles’ thigh when he sits down next to him on the couch. Giles doesn’t look up from his book. Xander leans against Giles to reach the salad bowl during dinner. Giles looks annoyed and says, “Next time just ask me to pass the dish.”
Planning ways to ‘accidentally’ run his hands along Giles’ skin is making Xander hyperaware of Giles, how he moves, how he holds his body. Touching him, feeling the warmth that is Giles beneath his hands is making Xander so hot. Giles, on the other hand, brings new meaning to the phrase “cool as a cucumber.” Also, the word oblivious.
In desperation, Xander pretends to fall asleep while sitting on the couch next to Giles, letting his head drop down to rest on the older man’s shoulder. Giles wakes him up and sends him to bed.
Alone.
Xander is so not plan-guy.
*******
Ordinarily Giles prides himself on his self-discipline, but if this keeps up he will undoubtedly go mad. Frequent cold showers - frequent showers of any description - are not an option in a house with this many teenaged girls. Giles never thought he’d be grateful for winter in Cleveland, but there’s nothing like walking through sleet blowing sideways to cool a man’s amorous feelings. Contracting pneumonia will likely be effective as well.
In all fairness, it’s not Xander’s fault. The young man’s depth perception is deteriorating badly. He maintains a cheerful front. Except for the occasional pirate joke, Xander never mentions his disability. But Giles notices that Xander is losing the ability to judge accurately the distance between himself and those around him. Giles hasn’t said anything - no need to make Xander feel self-conscious about what he can’t help.
Xander brushes up against Giles whenever they pass in the hall or if they are both sitting on the sofa or are seated next to each other at a meal. Only the worst type of deviant would get a physical thrill from the side effects of a friend’s misfortune.
Giles would be convinced he was going to hell, if he didn’t sometimes suspect he was already there.
*******
It’s another depressing discussion about finances. The leadership of the council, including the entire accounting department, was literally blown away. Most surviving watchers are willing to concede the Cleveland group should have access to Council funds. Bankers unaware of the existence of slayers and vampires are harder to convince. The insurance money from Buffy’s house, Robin’s and Xander’s apartments and everyone’s cars won’t last much longer. Xander’s disability payments are their only regular income. He thanks God he paid extra for the supplemental insurance.
Some of the adult scoobies may need part-time jobs, at least until the bankers see reason. Robin can go back to teaching. Giles says he can find employ as a librarian or translator. Willow can get some kind of work in computers.
But job opportunities for one-eyed construction workers are few and far between during a Cleveland winter. On top of that, Faith and Kennedy have no job experience, and Buffy has only worked at the Double Meat Palace and Sunnydale High. Buffy tells everyone that Xander used to be the king of unskilled labor. She asks him which job paid best. Xander makes sure Buffy is between him and Kennedy before he answers, “stripper.”
Giles chokes on his tea.
Suddenly Xander isn’t so depressed.
*******
Stripper. Giles imagines Xander in nothing but the tiniest scrap of black fabric. It’s a wonder he does nothing worse than inhale a bit of tea.
It’s a joke. Giles knows it’s a joke, but - Oh dear Lord, what is Xander doing?!
The radio is switched on, blaring a song with a pounding beat. Amidst hoots of encouragement from the woman, and Andrew, Xander struts the length of the room twice, stopping occasionally to grind his hips and cast lascivious looks over his shoulder at his audience.
Buffy holds up a dollar bill, and Xander dances over, pelvis thrusting. Giles almost swallows his tongue. Buffy tucks the dollar in the waistband of his jeans, and Xander dances around her not quite touching, his smile hinting at delights to come. Xander turns his back to the group and rolls his hips slowly a few times, smiling wickedly over his shoulder. Then Xander turns back and suddenly rips open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Despite the fact that Xander is wearing a t-shirt underneath, it’s the sexiest thing Giles has ever seen.
Giles does the only thing he can to save himself. He strides to the radio and switches it off. “Have you lost your senses?” he asks Xander, “there are impressionable young girls present. Surely they’re subjected to enough vulgarity on television without you adding to the problem.”
*******
Xander watches Giles as he walks away, stopping just long enough to grab his coat before heading out into the Cleveland winter.
Apparently Xander is so appalling Giles can’t stand to be in the same building with him. Xander slinks off to his own bedroom, and listens to country music - the music of pain.
He is SO over Giles. He doesn’t care if he never sees Giles again. In fact, he wishes - uh, no. Not even in his brain where only he can hear.
But still, if something really painful, but temporary and very, very, very non-life-threatening were to happen to Giles sometime soon, Xander wouldn’t object too much.
Giles called him vulgar, for God’s sake. In front of everyone! Which, okay, maybe he is. Xander’s not going to check, but it’s entirely possible that in the dictionary under vulgar, it says, “see also Tony Harris and family.” Still, Giles didn’t have to say it.
Xander wouldn’t touch Giles now if he were offered up naked on red satin sheets.
Xander thinks about Giles naked on red satin sheets. Okay. He would touch him. He would do so much more than touch him.
No way is he over Giles.
Xander wonders if red satin sheets are vulgar.
*******
Giles isn’t precisely paying attention to where he’s walking. His mind alternates between visions of Xander stripping just for him and the look of hurt on Xander’s face when Giles berated him. Xander was only trying to cheer everyone up, in his own peculiar way. But Giles can hardly tell Xander why he overreacted.
Crossing the street, Giles’ foot comes down on a piece of black ice. He is able, by a dint of series of rapid albeit graceless maneuvers, to avoid landing on his arse. Which would be fine, if he hadn’t strained a muscle in his neck during the process. Cold and in pain he turns back towards home.
Giles hears the slayers laughing and talking as he comes in the front door. And singing - isn’t that the tune Xander danced to? Yes, and there’s Alicia, the most outgoing of the teenaged slayers, reenacting Xander’s dance for her friends. The other girls hoot and whistle and egg her on. Giles stands in the doorway. One girl at a time they notice him. One girl at a time, the laughter stops. The music comes to a sudden halt and a subdued quiet descends. Then the room empties as girls recall undone homework and chores. They cast quick, sharp glares at him, and give him a wide berth as they leave.
When did he develop this astounding ability to spoil everyone’s pleasure?
*******
Every time Xander enters the library, Giles looks up from his work, winces, and rubs his neck.
The first time, Xander wonders if it’s a reaction to his shirt. His friends have made it clear he has no taste. He’s decided he can either let that bother him or he can keep buying the shirts that even Goodwill has to mark down. The budget being what it is, Xander opts for the colorful shirts he loves at two bucks a pop.
When Giles winces a second time, Xander wonders if this is his worst shirt ever. By the third wince, Xander gets it.
“Sore neck?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Xander bounces on his heels. This has possibilities. “I could, uh, give you a neck rub.”
Giles closes his eyes briefly, the way he sometimes does when Xander says something really stupid. Or maybe it’s the pain.
“Thank you, no,” Giles says, his voice extra dry.
“I don’t mind,” Xander insists, moving behind Giles and reaching a hand towards him.
Giles twists out of Xander’s reach, which hurts his neck even more, judging by the way he gasps.
Grabbing his neck, Giles looks up angrily at Xander and bites out, “Well, I mind. Have the goodness to keep your hands off me.”
Xander draws his hand back and stares at Giles in surprise. What’s his deal?
Oh.
Xander can feel his face turning bright red.
Giles has sussed out Operation: Accidental Touching. Giles has gotten a clue. Giles is Sherlock frikkin’ Holmes. And Giles is not interested. Very, Very Not Interested.
Xander does what any red-blooded American male would do in this situation. He runs.
*******
Xander’s blush tells the whole story.
Xander has finally realized that Giles is attracted to him. And his first reaction is to get as far away from Giles as he can. Not surprising, really. Giles would certainly have fled when he was 23 if someone twice his age had expressed interest. Well, no, in all honesty, Giles would probably have laughed his arse off. So perhaps Giles got off lightly.
Except somehow it doesn’t feel that way.
Giles is vaguely surprised to feel all hope shattering, when he would have said he had no hope. He would have said that he knew too well that a handsome, vital young man like Xander would never want someone like him: bookish, rather stodgy and, oh yes, twice his age.
Well, what’s done is done. Surely, once Xander has recovered from his initial shock and dismay, they can go back to working together as usual. There’ll be some awkwardness at first, but it will fade over time. Giles decides his best course of action is to say nothing unless Xander does.
A disinclination to receive a neck rub is not a declaration of undying love, after all. That’s Giles’ story, and he’s sticking to it.
*******
How could he be such an idiot? How could he possibly have imagined he had a chance with Giles? Sure, some guys are all about the sex, but Giles has standards. And Xander will never, ever measure up.
Xander gives himself a quick reality check. Rupert Giles: smartest man on earth, recently became head of a super-secret organization older that history. Xander Harris: barely graduated high school, general handyman. Rupert Giles: sophisticated man of the world, knows a gazillion languages. Xander Harris: never left his home state until last year, flunked French but reads a little Klingon. Rupert Giles: knows about wine vintages and aged scotch, has true class. Xander Harris: drinks whatever beer is on sale, recently defined the word vulgar for a room full of slayers.
Xander collects his coat and hat from the closet and heads outside. It’s snowing. It’s always snowing. Cleveland doesn’t just have snow; it has lake effect snow. Why did he ever leave California? Why didn’t he just pitch a tent next to the crater and stay where the weather was warm?
Xander ends up at a bar, nursing ginger ale after ginger ale all night. He’d get plastered, but he’s afraid of what he’d say to Giles if he did. And drunk on the hellmouth? Never a good idea. He’ll wait until even the slayers on late patrol are asleep, then sneak back into the house
Xander has plenty of experience with rejection. Which isn’t nearly as helpful as it should be. Still, he can move on, right? He just needs to get out, start meeting other people. Maybe join a bowling league.
Are there bisexual bowling leagues?
*******
Xander is just walking by when Giles opens his door next morning. Xander practically flattens himself against the wall to avoid contact. Giles says good morning and keeps walking. He hears footsteps behind him on the stairs, but resists the urge to look back.
Willow and Buffy are sitting at the kitchen table. Buffy’s eyes are wide with surprise. “Are you sure?”
Willow nods. “I know it’s kind of a shock, but you’ve got to be happy for them. This may be the first time since Olivia that Giles has gotten any.”
Giles hears Xander’s sharp intake of breath behind him.
Willow looks up and sees them. “Snuggles, I mean,” she says, flustered. “Gotten any snuggles.”
“Willow,” Giles says, “is there a reason you’re spreading wild untruths about matters that are none of your concern?”
Willow looks uncertain, “I, uh, I just thought that since a certain person’s bedroom was empty at midnight, and I’ve seen all the looks -”
“What you thought is of no consequence,” Giles says, “since you are entirely mistaken. I am not romantically involved with anyone. There was no one else in my bed last night. Moreover if there had been, it wouldn’t have been the first- er, suffice it to say, you could not be more wrong.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m, uh, really sorry. I, uh, I have to…” Willow stands and edges her way out of the kitchen.
“Yeah, I’ll help,” Buffy says, going after her.
Giles fills the kettle. Turning back, he risks a glance at Xander. He’d hoped to see a little gratitude - after all he’s just saved Xander from scurrilous gossip, but Xander looks positively ill. Lovely.
*******
Xander knows he should leave it alone. But it’s almost killing him not to say something. He joins the slayers for their morning workout, hoping the exhaustion will stop his brain. But instead, he keeps looking around. Which one is it? Which one?
Whatever Giles has got going on is so not his business. But it’s also a disaster waiting to happen. What parents will trust them with their daughter once this gets out? And these things always get out.
The workout is definitely exhausting, but Xander’s brain is still going a mile a minute.
Xander hasn’t yet told anyone else that the retiled bathroom is open for business, so he’s able to shower right after the training session. He tries to convince himself to stay out of it. By the time he’s dressed, he’s sure he’s put it behind him. Not his business, he’s so not going there.
And then he walks downstairs to find Giles talking with a group of still sweaty slayers in skintight workout clothes. Something in his stomach twists. Which one?
“I need to talk to you,” he tells Giles angrily.
“Of course.” Giles raises an inquiring eyebrow.
Xander stalks out of the room, not looking back to see if Giles is following. He leads the way back to his own room, and holds the door open for Giles. He follows Giles into the room, shuts the door and turns.
“Who is it?” Xander demands angrily.
*******
Giles follows Xander with trepidation. Apparently Xander is going to ‘wig.’ Giles is surprised when Xander leads the way upstairs. There are only bedrooms upstairs, and he would expect Xander to avoid being in the same room with him and a bed at all costs. Yet, they end up in Xander’s room.
Giles doesn’t understand the question. “Who is what?” he asks.
“Who are you screwing, damn you!”
“Xander, you heard me tell Buffy and Willow-“
“That you weren’t romantically involved with anyone. God damn it, Giles, I met Olivia. I know you don’t have to be in love with someone to screw her. And it doesn’t matter if she wasn’t in your bed. For all I know you did it on the floor, or against the wall or on the hood of a frikkin police car in a public street. American voter, here. I know a non-denial denial when I hear one.
“Faith and Wood are making monogamy work. Kennedy’s with Willow. No way Willow was telling Buffy about you and Buffy. All the other slayers - and Dawn -- are under 18, so this looks like very bad badness to me. We’re trying to start a new council here, Giles, don’t you realize the damage this could do? I’ll talk to her if you want, tell her I convinced you to break it off for the good of the council.”
Giles smiles wryly at Xander. “What do you mean ‘her?’”
*******
Xander can’t believe his own stupidity. All this time, he’s been trying to get Giles’ attention. He’s been worried that Giles would think he was too young, too much of a loser. And all this time….
“Andrew!!” Xander blurts out. “You and, and, and Andrew? Well, uh, sure. He’s over 18, right? Wow, I just, I never thought - what does he have that I - er, uh, and who knew he could keep a secret.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Giles says. “You know I’m not involved with Andrew. I saw your face when you realized-. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. That was never my intention.”
Okay. Xander’s gotten pretty good at translating British into American, but he’s clearly missing something here. It’s great that Giles is apologizing for calling Xander vulgar in front of the girls, but the rest of it makes no sense.
“What did I realize?” Xander asks Giles.
“Surely you remember why you fled the library yesterday,” Giles says dryly.
Oh, right, when he realized that Giles was deeply not interested in him. Xander still doesn’t see how that translates to knowing Giles isn’t involved with Andrew. Unless… is Giles claiming to be straight? Ethan was obvious, but was it one-sided?
“Not seeing the connection,” Xander says.
“Willow was talking about us - the two of us,” Giles says.
Oh, God. Apparently Xander is even more obvious than Ethan.
*******
Xander blushes again. “I never meant- Look, I can fix this. I’ll just tell everyone that I had this thing for you, and you let me down gently, okay?”
“Xander, don’t-” Giles begins.
“No, don’t worry. I’ll let them know you were a complete gentleman.”
Giles shakes his head. This may be the most absurd idea Xander’s ever had. “I’ve already put paid to any rumors. There’s no need to make up lies, particularly about your sexual preference.”
Xander tilts his head to one side, and stares at Giles. “Lies about my sexual preference.” He repeats the phrase as if it were in a language he used to know, but has forgotten. He runs his hand through his hair and gives Giles a puzzled look. “What exactly did I realize yesterday?” he asks.
Giles sighs. He has no idea why Xander wants to hear him say it, but there’s no reason he shouldn’t admit the truth. “That I find you extremely attractive.”
Xander snorts. “Yeah. Sure. That’s why you told me hands off.”
Apparently Xander wants every detail spelled out. Right. “I had no desire to risk an involuntary reaction to your touch,” Giles says.
Xander bursts out laughing. Giles flinches and turns towards the door.
“Wait.”
“Why?” Giles asks stiffly, his hand on the doorknob, his back to Xander.
“’Cause that’s so not what I realized. You should know I’d get it wrong.” Xander gently lifts Giles’ hand off the doorknob, lightly pulling on it until Giles turns to face him. “I thought you’d realized that I have this big old crush on you, and that you weren’t interested.”
This is without doubt the most absurd idea Xander has ever had. But Giles knows better than to tell Xander how wrong he is.
It’s so much nicer to show him.
*******
January turns into February. The groundhog sees his shadow, and they are in for six more weeks of winter. The only thing worse than shoveling snow is driving through icy streets. Well, driving through icy streets while trying to avert an apocalypse.
In Xander’s opinion, the three worst words in the English language are ‘lake effect snow.’ The two worst are ‘black ice,’ and the single worst always has been and always will be ‘hellmouth.’
But as long as Rupert Giles lives in Cleveland, Xander can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere but here.
Written by anyjay for spring_with_xan
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Setting: Post-Chosen
Rating: FRT
Warnings: Extreme fluff
A series of drabbles with alternating POVs, total word count: 4400.
Disclaimer: They belong to Joss and ME. I make no money. I have no rights.
Feedback: Yes, please. Especially, please let me know if I have Giles using words/phrases that are more American than British.
The first section of this was posted earlier this year, because I couldn’t get the rest of the story to come together. Thanks to all the folks who encouraged me to keep working on this, especially kargrif who offered helpful suggestions, which gave me a starting place, even if I ultimately ended up not using them.
Amy Yip and the waterslide park are forgotten. For the past 8 months, Xander’s 'anywhere but here' has been Rupert Giles at the Motel 6 half an hour outside of Sunnydale. That's what he imagines when he wants a happy thought.
Buffy, Willow and, yeah, probably even Giles would think he was nuts. But there had been a moment there. And okay, he’d been pretty-much-unconscious-guy, but he hadn’t imagined it. He hadn’t.
He’d come partially awake with Giles spooned against his back and Giles’ arm draped around him, and an intense feeling that he was finally where he belonged. His brain had been just aware enough to realize sleep: good, reality: highly overrated. So Xander had nestled a little deeper into Giles’ arms, and drifted off again.
When he woke up for real, he was alone in the bed. Andrew was snoring on a rollaway cot. Xander had a throbbing pain on the left side of his face where his eye had been. Pretty much everything he owned was at the bottom of a sinkhole. He had no idea where his parents and Uncle Rory were, or if they were even alive. Robin and Rona were in the hospital. Anya was dead.
So the freaking about discovering he belonged in Giles’ arms - when he’d always been very, very not-gay -- that had to stand in line behind the freaking about absolutely everything else in his life.
And by the time it got to the head of the line, freaky? Not so much.
*******
Giles still dreams of it.
There’d been a large group to care for, and Giles had had no idea when any of them would have an income again. So he’d crammed everyone as tightly as possible into rooms at the Motel 6. Robin was in hospital. The three remaining men had a room with a double bed and a camp bed. Giles had fallen into one side of the double bed with no thought of anything except his own exhaustion.
When he woke up, however, his body was wrapped around Xander’s. Xander who, Giles suddenly realized, was both sexy and adult. It felt lovely, and Giles had to quell the urge to kiss the back of Xander’s neck. Xander was straight, and had been through quite enough lately without the emotional trauma of a pass from a man he saw as a father figure.
Giles had begun to pull away, but Xander’s breathing immediately changed. Giles had forced himself to relax. Feigning sleep seemed less embarrassing all round than acknowledging the situation. After a moment, Xander had shifted slightly backwards towards Giles and made a small noise - which couldn’t possibly have been the contented sigh it sounded like - and begun to snore softly. Giles had stayed pressed up against Xander until the young man shifted positions and Giles could leave the bed without waking him. An act of kindness for a friend. Xander had lost so much. All Giles could give him was this chance to sleep undisturbed.
If Giles had enjoyed holding Xander in his arms, no one need know. Shouldn’t kindness be its own reward?
*******
Xander is clueless. He admits it. He has somehow reached the advanced age of 23 without ever being the one to make the first move, except with Buffy, which had so not been a success, and demon chick - who would have said yes to any potential sacrifice. He needs something suave, sophisticated. Something that will make Giles see him as a mature, desirable man, instead of the boy loser from Sunnydale high.
He’s got nothing.
Okay, screw sophistication. Xander thinks instead about what worked on him. Cordelia’s method - because no matter what she said, she had totally kissed him first - depends on being trapped and terrified. He’ll use it if opportunity knocks, but isn’t quite desperate enough to hope for impending death.
Faith’s strategy is out. He’s not sure he could pick Giles up and throw him down on the bed. And there’s really nothing about that experience Xander wants to repeat.
Anya’s approach had been straightforward and effective. Xander makes an excuse to talk with Giles alone in Giles’ bedroom. But then he completely loses his nerve. What was he thinking! Instead of taking off all his clothes and demanding sex, he panics, babbles briefly about drywall and runs.
Impending death may be his only hope.
*******
Giles is finding it increasingly difficult to act normally around Xander. Sharing a house, even a very large house, with the man you lust after, the man who is far too young and far too heterosexual for you, is a tremendously bad idea. Particularly if that man spends the majority of his time performing physical tasks that show off his muscles and cover him in sweat.
Xander’s renovation plans include retiling one of the lavs. When he comes back from the home improvement store with all the needed supplies, including knee pads, Giles’ brain goes to a very bad place.
Giles makes excuses to spend time with Xander, bringing him a beer while he’s working, asking about his progress, what supplies he’ll be needing. Then one day, he walks by as their youngest slayer, Maria, is handing Xander a bottle of water. He stands back and watches as she chatters, giggles, twirls her hair and gives Xander sidelong looks while he drinks. The good news is that Xander is just as oblivious to Giles’ motives as he is to Maria’s. The bad news is that Giles apparently has all the finesse of a 13-year-old girl in the throes of her first crush.
*******
Xander is finally a man with a plan: ‘Operation: Accidental Touching”. There are only two problems with the plan. It has the world’s least sexy acronym and it isn’t working. At all.
Xander brushes lightly against Giles when he passes him in the hall. Giles says, “Pardon me,” in an absentminded way, and keeps walking. Xander ‘accidentally’ lets his hand run down the outside of Giles’ thigh when he sits down next to him on the couch. Giles doesn’t look up from his book. Xander leans against Giles to reach the salad bowl during dinner. Giles looks annoyed and says, “Next time just ask me to pass the dish.”
Planning ways to ‘accidentally’ run his hands along Giles’ skin is making Xander hyperaware of Giles, how he moves, how he holds his body. Touching him, feeling the warmth that is Giles beneath his hands is making Xander so hot. Giles, on the other hand, brings new meaning to the phrase “cool as a cucumber.” Also, the word oblivious.
In desperation, Xander pretends to fall asleep while sitting on the couch next to Giles, letting his head drop down to rest on the older man’s shoulder. Giles wakes him up and sends him to bed.
Alone.
Xander is so not plan-guy.
*******
Ordinarily Giles prides himself on his self-discipline, but if this keeps up he will undoubtedly go mad. Frequent cold showers - frequent showers of any description - are not an option in a house with this many teenaged girls. Giles never thought he’d be grateful for winter in Cleveland, but there’s nothing like walking through sleet blowing sideways to cool a man’s amorous feelings. Contracting pneumonia will likely be effective as well.
In all fairness, it’s not Xander’s fault. The young man’s depth perception is deteriorating badly. He maintains a cheerful front. Except for the occasional pirate joke, Xander never mentions his disability. But Giles notices that Xander is losing the ability to judge accurately the distance between himself and those around him. Giles hasn’t said anything - no need to make Xander feel self-conscious about what he can’t help.
Xander brushes up against Giles whenever they pass in the hall or if they are both sitting on the sofa or are seated next to each other at a meal. Only the worst type of deviant would get a physical thrill from the side effects of a friend’s misfortune.
Giles would be convinced he was going to hell, if he didn’t sometimes suspect he was already there.
*******
It’s another depressing discussion about finances. The leadership of the council, including the entire accounting department, was literally blown away. Most surviving watchers are willing to concede the Cleveland group should have access to Council funds. Bankers unaware of the existence of slayers and vampires are harder to convince. The insurance money from Buffy’s house, Robin’s and Xander’s apartments and everyone’s cars won’t last much longer. Xander’s disability payments are their only regular income. He thanks God he paid extra for the supplemental insurance.
Some of the adult scoobies may need part-time jobs, at least until the bankers see reason. Robin can go back to teaching. Giles says he can find employ as a librarian or translator. Willow can get some kind of work in computers.
But job opportunities for one-eyed construction workers are few and far between during a Cleveland winter. On top of that, Faith and Kennedy have no job experience, and Buffy has only worked at the Double Meat Palace and Sunnydale High. Buffy tells everyone that Xander used to be the king of unskilled labor. She asks him which job paid best. Xander makes sure Buffy is between him and Kennedy before he answers, “stripper.”
Giles chokes on his tea.
Suddenly Xander isn’t so depressed.
*******
Stripper. Giles imagines Xander in nothing but the tiniest scrap of black fabric. It’s a wonder he does nothing worse than inhale a bit of tea.
It’s a joke. Giles knows it’s a joke, but - Oh dear Lord, what is Xander doing?!
The radio is switched on, blaring a song with a pounding beat. Amidst hoots of encouragement from the woman, and Andrew, Xander struts the length of the room twice, stopping occasionally to grind his hips and cast lascivious looks over his shoulder at his audience.
Buffy holds up a dollar bill, and Xander dances over, pelvis thrusting. Giles almost swallows his tongue. Buffy tucks the dollar in the waistband of his jeans, and Xander dances around her not quite touching, his smile hinting at delights to come. Xander turns his back to the group and rolls his hips slowly a few times, smiling wickedly over his shoulder. Then Xander turns back and suddenly rips open his shirt, buttons flying everywhere. Despite the fact that Xander is wearing a t-shirt underneath, it’s the sexiest thing Giles has ever seen.
Giles does the only thing he can to save himself. He strides to the radio and switches it off. “Have you lost your senses?” he asks Xander, “there are impressionable young girls present. Surely they’re subjected to enough vulgarity on television without you adding to the problem.”
*******
Xander watches Giles as he walks away, stopping just long enough to grab his coat before heading out into the Cleveland winter.
Apparently Xander is so appalling Giles can’t stand to be in the same building with him. Xander slinks off to his own bedroom, and listens to country music - the music of pain.
He is SO over Giles. He doesn’t care if he never sees Giles again. In fact, he wishes - uh, no. Not even in his brain where only he can hear.
But still, if something really painful, but temporary and very, very, very non-life-threatening were to happen to Giles sometime soon, Xander wouldn’t object too much.
Giles called him vulgar, for God’s sake. In front of everyone! Which, okay, maybe he is. Xander’s not going to check, but it’s entirely possible that in the dictionary under vulgar, it says, “see also Tony Harris and family.” Still, Giles didn’t have to say it.
Xander wouldn’t touch Giles now if he were offered up naked on red satin sheets.
Xander thinks about Giles naked on red satin sheets. Okay. He would touch him. He would do so much more than touch him.
No way is he over Giles.
Xander wonders if red satin sheets are vulgar.
*******
Giles isn’t precisely paying attention to where he’s walking. His mind alternates between visions of Xander stripping just for him and the look of hurt on Xander’s face when Giles berated him. Xander was only trying to cheer everyone up, in his own peculiar way. But Giles can hardly tell Xander why he overreacted.
Crossing the street, Giles’ foot comes down on a piece of black ice. He is able, by a dint of series of rapid albeit graceless maneuvers, to avoid landing on his arse. Which would be fine, if he hadn’t strained a muscle in his neck during the process. Cold and in pain he turns back towards home.
Giles hears the slayers laughing and talking as he comes in the front door. And singing - isn’t that the tune Xander danced to? Yes, and there’s Alicia, the most outgoing of the teenaged slayers, reenacting Xander’s dance for her friends. The other girls hoot and whistle and egg her on. Giles stands in the doorway. One girl at a time they notice him. One girl at a time, the laughter stops. The music comes to a sudden halt and a subdued quiet descends. Then the room empties as girls recall undone homework and chores. They cast quick, sharp glares at him, and give him a wide berth as they leave.
When did he develop this astounding ability to spoil everyone’s pleasure?
*******
Every time Xander enters the library, Giles looks up from his work, winces, and rubs his neck.
The first time, Xander wonders if it’s a reaction to his shirt. His friends have made it clear he has no taste. He’s decided he can either let that bother him or he can keep buying the shirts that even Goodwill has to mark down. The budget being what it is, Xander opts for the colorful shirts he loves at two bucks a pop.
When Giles winces a second time, Xander wonders if this is his worst shirt ever. By the third wince, Xander gets it.
“Sore neck?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Xander bounces on his heels. This has possibilities. “I could, uh, give you a neck rub.”
Giles closes his eyes briefly, the way he sometimes does when Xander says something really stupid. Or maybe it’s the pain.
“Thank you, no,” Giles says, his voice extra dry.
“I don’t mind,” Xander insists, moving behind Giles and reaching a hand towards him.
Giles twists out of Xander’s reach, which hurts his neck even more, judging by the way he gasps.
Grabbing his neck, Giles looks up angrily at Xander and bites out, “Well, I mind. Have the goodness to keep your hands off me.”
Xander draws his hand back and stares at Giles in surprise. What’s his deal?
Oh.
Xander can feel his face turning bright red.
Giles has sussed out Operation: Accidental Touching. Giles has gotten a clue. Giles is Sherlock frikkin’ Holmes. And Giles is not interested. Very, Very Not Interested.
Xander does what any red-blooded American male would do in this situation. He runs.
*******
Xander’s blush tells the whole story.
Xander has finally realized that Giles is attracted to him. And his first reaction is to get as far away from Giles as he can. Not surprising, really. Giles would certainly have fled when he was 23 if someone twice his age had expressed interest. Well, no, in all honesty, Giles would probably have laughed his arse off. So perhaps Giles got off lightly.
Except somehow it doesn’t feel that way.
Giles is vaguely surprised to feel all hope shattering, when he would have said he had no hope. He would have said that he knew too well that a handsome, vital young man like Xander would never want someone like him: bookish, rather stodgy and, oh yes, twice his age.
Well, what’s done is done. Surely, once Xander has recovered from his initial shock and dismay, they can go back to working together as usual. There’ll be some awkwardness at first, but it will fade over time. Giles decides his best course of action is to say nothing unless Xander does.
A disinclination to receive a neck rub is not a declaration of undying love, after all. That’s Giles’ story, and he’s sticking to it.
*******
How could he be such an idiot? How could he possibly have imagined he had a chance with Giles? Sure, some guys are all about the sex, but Giles has standards. And Xander will never, ever measure up.
Xander gives himself a quick reality check. Rupert Giles: smartest man on earth, recently became head of a super-secret organization older that history. Xander Harris: barely graduated high school, general handyman. Rupert Giles: sophisticated man of the world, knows a gazillion languages. Xander Harris: never left his home state until last year, flunked French but reads a little Klingon. Rupert Giles: knows about wine vintages and aged scotch, has true class. Xander Harris: drinks whatever beer is on sale, recently defined the word vulgar for a room full of slayers.
Xander collects his coat and hat from the closet and heads outside. It’s snowing. It’s always snowing. Cleveland doesn’t just have snow; it has lake effect snow. Why did he ever leave California? Why didn’t he just pitch a tent next to the crater and stay where the weather was warm?
Xander ends up at a bar, nursing ginger ale after ginger ale all night. He’d get plastered, but he’s afraid of what he’d say to Giles if he did. And drunk on the hellmouth? Never a good idea. He’ll wait until even the slayers on late patrol are asleep, then sneak back into the house
Xander has plenty of experience with rejection. Which isn’t nearly as helpful as it should be. Still, he can move on, right? He just needs to get out, start meeting other people. Maybe join a bowling league.
Are there bisexual bowling leagues?
*******
Xander is just walking by when Giles opens his door next morning. Xander practically flattens himself against the wall to avoid contact. Giles says good morning and keeps walking. He hears footsteps behind him on the stairs, but resists the urge to look back.
Willow and Buffy are sitting at the kitchen table. Buffy’s eyes are wide with surprise. “Are you sure?”
Willow nods. “I know it’s kind of a shock, but you’ve got to be happy for them. This may be the first time since Olivia that Giles has gotten any.”
Giles hears Xander’s sharp intake of breath behind him.
Willow looks up and sees them. “Snuggles, I mean,” she says, flustered. “Gotten any snuggles.”
“Willow,” Giles says, “is there a reason you’re spreading wild untruths about matters that are none of your concern?”
Willow looks uncertain, “I, uh, I just thought that since a certain person’s bedroom was empty at midnight, and I’ve seen all the looks -”
“What you thought is of no consequence,” Giles says, “since you are entirely mistaken. I am not romantically involved with anyone. There was no one else in my bed last night. Moreover if there had been, it wouldn’t have been the first- er, suffice it to say, you could not be more wrong.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m, uh, really sorry. I, uh, I have to…” Willow stands and edges her way out of the kitchen.
“Yeah, I’ll help,” Buffy says, going after her.
Giles fills the kettle. Turning back, he risks a glance at Xander. He’d hoped to see a little gratitude - after all he’s just saved Xander from scurrilous gossip, but Xander looks positively ill. Lovely.
*******
Xander knows he should leave it alone. But it’s almost killing him not to say something. He joins the slayers for their morning workout, hoping the exhaustion will stop his brain. But instead, he keeps looking around. Which one is it? Which one?
Whatever Giles has got going on is so not his business. But it’s also a disaster waiting to happen. What parents will trust them with their daughter once this gets out? And these things always get out.
The workout is definitely exhausting, but Xander’s brain is still going a mile a minute.
Xander hasn’t yet told anyone else that the retiled bathroom is open for business, so he’s able to shower right after the training session. He tries to convince himself to stay out of it. By the time he’s dressed, he’s sure he’s put it behind him. Not his business, he’s so not going there.
And then he walks downstairs to find Giles talking with a group of still sweaty slayers in skintight workout clothes. Something in his stomach twists. Which one?
“I need to talk to you,” he tells Giles angrily.
“Of course.” Giles raises an inquiring eyebrow.
Xander stalks out of the room, not looking back to see if Giles is following. He leads the way back to his own room, and holds the door open for Giles. He follows Giles into the room, shuts the door and turns.
“Who is it?” Xander demands angrily.
*******
Giles follows Xander with trepidation. Apparently Xander is going to ‘wig.’ Giles is surprised when Xander leads the way upstairs. There are only bedrooms upstairs, and he would expect Xander to avoid being in the same room with him and a bed at all costs. Yet, they end up in Xander’s room.
Giles doesn’t understand the question. “Who is what?” he asks.
“Who are you screwing, damn you!”
“Xander, you heard me tell Buffy and Willow-“
“That you weren’t romantically involved with anyone. God damn it, Giles, I met Olivia. I know you don’t have to be in love with someone to screw her. And it doesn’t matter if she wasn’t in your bed. For all I know you did it on the floor, or against the wall or on the hood of a frikkin police car in a public street. American voter, here. I know a non-denial denial when I hear one.
“Faith and Wood are making monogamy work. Kennedy’s with Willow. No way Willow was telling Buffy about you and Buffy. All the other slayers - and Dawn -- are under 18, so this looks like very bad badness to me. We’re trying to start a new council here, Giles, don’t you realize the damage this could do? I’ll talk to her if you want, tell her I convinced you to break it off for the good of the council.”
Giles smiles wryly at Xander. “What do you mean ‘her?’”
*******
Xander can’t believe his own stupidity. All this time, he’s been trying to get Giles’ attention. He’s been worried that Giles would think he was too young, too much of a loser. And all this time….
“Andrew!!” Xander blurts out. “You and, and, and Andrew? Well, uh, sure. He’s over 18, right? Wow, I just, I never thought - what does he have that I - er, uh, and who knew he could keep a secret.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Giles says. “You know I’m not involved with Andrew. I saw your face when you realized-. I’m sorry I embarrassed you. That was never my intention.”
Okay. Xander’s gotten pretty good at translating British into American, but he’s clearly missing something here. It’s great that Giles is apologizing for calling Xander vulgar in front of the girls, but the rest of it makes no sense.
“What did I realize?” Xander asks Giles.
“Surely you remember why you fled the library yesterday,” Giles says dryly.
Oh, right, when he realized that Giles was deeply not interested in him. Xander still doesn’t see how that translates to knowing Giles isn’t involved with Andrew. Unless… is Giles claiming to be straight? Ethan was obvious, but was it one-sided?
“Not seeing the connection,” Xander says.
“Willow was talking about us - the two of us,” Giles says.
Oh, God. Apparently Xander is even more obvious than Ethan.
*******
Xander blushes again. “I never meant- Look, I can fix this. I’ll just tell everyone that I had this thing for you, and you let me down gently, okay?”
“Xander, don’t-” Giles begins.
“No, don’t worry. I’ll let them know you were a complete gentleman.”
Giles shakes his head. This may be the most absurd idea Xander’s ever had. “I’ve already put paid to any rumors. There’s no need to make up lies, particularly about your sexual preference.”
Xander tilts his head to one side, and stares at Giles. “Lies about my sexual preference.” He repeats the phrase as if it were in a language he used to know, but has forgotten. He runs his hand through his hair and gives Giles a puzzled look. “What exactly did I realize yesterday?” he asks.
Giles sighs. He has no idea why Xander wants to hear him say it, but there’s no reason he shouldn’t admit the truth. “That I find you extremely attractive.”
Xander snorts. “Yeah. Sure. That’s why you told me hands off.”
Apparently Xander wants every detail spelled out. Right. “I had no desire to risk an involuntary reaction to your touch,” Giles says.
Xander bursts out laughing. Giles flinches and turns towards the door.
“Wait.”
“Why?” Giles asks stiffly, his hand on the doorknob, his back to Xander.
“’Cause that’s so not what I realized. You should know I’d get it wrong.” Xander gently lifts Giles’ hand off the doorknob, lightly pulling on it until Giles turns to face him. “I thought you’d realized that I have this big old crush on you, and that you weren’t interested.”
This is without doubt the most absurd idea Xander has ever had. But Giles knows better than to tell Xander how wrong he is.
It’s so much nicer to show him.
*******
January turns into February. The groundhog sees his shadow, and they are in for six more weeks of winter. The only thing worse than shoveling snow is driving through icy streets. Well, driving through icy streets while trying to avert an apocalypse.
In Xander’s opinion, the three worst words in the English language are ‘lake effect snow.’ The two worst are ‘black ice,’ and the single worst always has been and always will be ‘hellmouth.’
But as long as Rupert Giles lives in Cleveland, Xander can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere but here.