Secrets to Tell

[froxyn]

Title: Secrets to Tell
Author: Froxyn
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Rating: FRT
Timeline: Post-Chosen.
Synopsis: Buffy heads to London to see Giles on New Year’s Eve. She was expecting to watch the fireworks at midnight…what she wasn’t expecting was what actually happened.
Author’s Note: This was written for the Drunken!Giles ficathon. Thanks to wyvernwolf for the beta! And thanks to antennapedia for hosting!



Nine days earlier, Giles had called Buffy. She had assumed he had called to confirm flight times and such from Rome to London for Christmas.

However, her assumptions were wrong as he’d instead called to regretfully tell her that her services would be needed just outside Melito di Porto Salvo. Apparently, a clan of seemingly overzealous and overachieving T’variash demons were on the move from Malta...and had left a devastating path of death and destruction through Sicily.

Giles hadn’t been sure what they were planning, but he’d known it wasn’t going to be good. A situation such as this required the skills of the best Slayers. He’d had no other choice but to implore Buffy to assist in the battle.

She’d gone, of course. She hadn’t been exactly happy about it...after all, it was three days before Christmas. A Christmas that she was supposed to have spent with Giles. But, when duty called...she had no choice but to save the world again.

Or at the very least save Southern Italy.

So, duty had called and she’d been successful...her and her group of five other Slayers. It had started out as twelve other Slayers, a baker’s dozen of Slayers to take out a clan of T’variash demons. It had ended with a nearly 54 percent loss of life. She was able to hold back her tears as she called Giles to give her report. It had taken seven days...a full week. And she apologized profusely for not being able to save them all.

He was just happy that she was in the 46 percent of those who had survived.

She was sure she’d heard his voice break as he whispered ‘Well done, Buffy’. But, when she started to question him about it, he had cleared his throat and quickly ended the conversation.

And now, nine days after her last phone call with Giles, she stood with the phone in her hand, listening to the tone that told her that Giles had physically ended the call. She stood there for a few moments, debating on whether or not to call him back.

As she lowered the phone, she made her decision.

She wouldn’t call him...he probably wouldn’t answer anyway. Instead, she made her way over to the computer.

A few minutes later, she’d booked herself on a direct flight from Rome to London with British Airways.

* * *

Buffy paid the taxi driver and wished him a Happy New Year before grabbing her bag and climbing out of the black cab. The driver waited until she’d reached the front porch of the house before driving off. This neighbourhood wasn’t a bad one, but she was still a young woman walking up a dark drive.

Buffy turned around and gave him a wave, realizing that he was making sure that she was safe. As the taxi drove away, she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and twisted it.

She rolled her eyes as the door opened. “Add that to the list of things to discuss with Giles.”

Stepping inside and closing the door behind her, she tilted her head slightly as she listened. Hearing nothing at all, she placed her bag on the floor in the hall and walked into the living room.

“Giles? You here?”

No response.

“Well, that’s weird.” She muttered to herself.

And it was weird, she supposed. After all, she’d stopped by the Council first...certain that he’d be there working away. But, he hadn’t been. According to his personal assistant, a young woman by the name of Hettie, he’d left to go home five hours earlier. A headache, she’d said.

He’d left work with a headache, but hadn’t come home.

Buffy wasn’t really surprised, if she were honest with herself. A few years ago, she would’ve been...however, the look in Hettie’s eyes told her that Hettie wasn’t so sure that he’d actually had a headache. But when she’d questioned her, Hettie shook her head and stated that Giles hadn’t confided anything in her.

Buffy furrowed her brow. She could find him easily enough. All she had to do was tap into the Watcher/Slayer Helpline, as she’d dubbed it, and she’d know exactly where he was in seconds.

But, she wasn’t really sure if she wanted to know exactly where he was.

The only times she’d given a not-so-true explanation of where she was going, she’d been going off to meet Angel or spend some coupley time with Riley...or to have sex with Spike. And if Giles had left work early to have sex with someone...she really didn’t want to know about it.

“So...I’ll just wait. You have to come home sometime...”

She took a deep breath and wandered into the kitchen. She wondered how many cups of tea she’d go through before he finally made it home. Opening the cupboard, she smiled and amended that last thought.

He still kept her favourite brand of coffee around.

* * *

Buffy leaned over, placing her mug on the coffee table when she heard footsteps on the front porch. She stood up just as the door opened, smiling as Giles walked in. Her smile faded when her brain registered the fact that he hadn’t actually walked as much as he had stumbled in.

“Giles?”

Giles looked towards the voice as he pushed the door closed. “Are you hurt?”

“What?” She asked as he made his way to her in a not very straight line.

“Hurt. Injured. In pain. Bleeding. Bruised.” He grabbed the back of the chair as he stared at her. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Not a scratch on me.” She whispered and took a step towards him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m drunk. Not hurt.” His eyes drifted down the front of her body. “Why are you here?”

“What’s going on?” She asked, reaching out to steady him as he swayed lightly. “What’s wrong?”

“Why does something have to be wrong? Why can’t I just indulge in a drink or a few if I want? I am a grown adult, if you haven’t noticed. I’ve been well over the legal drinking age since before you met me. But, yet...something has to be wrong in order for me to have a good time?”

“Are you having a good time?” She enquired as he met her eyes.

“Not particularly.” He admitted, moving away from her and dropping down onto the sofa. “Are you?”

“Okay...enough of the back and forth questions. Just give me an answer.” She sat down next to him and curled her leg underneath her. “What’s wrong, Giles?”

“I would point out that you just asked me another question after saying that we’d asked enough questions to one another, but I’m rather certain that you’d just stare at me.” He paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Much like you are now.”

“Giles...”

“Are you wanting the truth? Do you truly want to know what’s wrong with me? Or...are you merely asking because it’s expected?” He wondered aloud, the smile completely disappearing from his lips.

“Yeah, I truly want to know.” She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Enough that I’m considering telling you things that I promised I’d not.” He swallowed and leaned his head against the back of the couch.

Buffy smiled softly, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. “I’d forgotten how confusing you can be when you’ve been drinking.”

“Mm.” He murmured and then took a deep breath, rolling his head to the side and staring into her eyes. “What are you doing, Buffy?”

“Huh?” She asked, eyes widening when he pointedly glanced down at their hands. “Oh! Oh, sorry...I just...I was - ”

“I shouldn’t be around you right now.” He stated, his voice slightly slurred. “It’s not safe.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her hazel eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You plan on attacking me or something?”

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry?”

“You said that it wasn’t safe for you to be around me...”

“Oh, yes...right. It’s not. I mean, it’s not safe for me, really. You’re fine, safe. I’d never...well, I wouldn’t. Not that I could even if I…” He rambled drunkenly, causing her to smile. “What?”

“I’d forgotten how funny you are when you’ve been drinking.”

“You said I was confusing a few minutes ago. Now you’re saying I’m funny.” He stared into her eyes and exhaled slowly, obviously deliberating over his next words. “I think you’re dangerous for me.”

When he saw the pain flash in her eyes, he quickly continued...hoping he’d be able to explain before he made things worse between them.

“I don’t mean I think you’re dangerous. You are...to demons and such. I’m not a demon, so you’re not dangerous to me. I mean...well, what I mean is...alcohol loosens my tongue. Normally, it’s not a problem because I’m never around people I trust implicitly. My secrets are safe. This is where you’re dangerous for me.”

Buffy stared at him for a moment and then gave a quick shake of her head. “Okay, I think I’ll go back to the ‘you’re confusing’ statement now.”

He swallowed and rubbed his palm against his thigh. “Sorry.”

“No, just…just tell me what you mean, Giles.” She requested softly.

He blew out a breath and searched for the words. It didn’t take him all that long to find something to say.

“I trust you, Buffy. Implicitly, I trust you. And that concerns me because...my secrets aren’t safe around you right now. And should they become...um...not secret...I fear what that might do to our relationship. Do you understand?”

She nodded and gave a sigh of relief. “Yeah, but you know...I already know about a lot of things that you’ve done or been involved in or - ”

“The things that I have hidden...they could make you hate me.” He whispered, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t bear your hate.”

“Hate’s a strong word, Giles. I’ve been pretty damn angry with you...but, I’ve never hated you.”

“You would.” He glanced at her and then pushed himself up.

She stared at him as he walked across the room. When he pulled a bottle out of the liquor cabinet, she stood up as well.

“I can’t imagine what you would have to do in order for me to hate you.”

He gave a sad chuckle as he poured himself a drink and then filled a second tumbler. Buffy arched an eyebrow when she realized that the second drink was for her.

“You’re offering me alcohol. Must be bad...”

“Spike’s alive.” Giles blurted before downing his drink. He studiously avoided Buffy’s gaze as he poured yet another drink.

Buffy reached out, grabbing his wrist to stop him from lifting the tumbler to his lips. “What do you mean he’s alive? I watched him die.”

“Mm...after you told him you loved him.” He shook his head and transferred the glass from his left hand to his right. “But, he’s very much not dead. And he’s seemingly very corporeal now as well.”

“How did you know that I told him that?” Buffy asked on a shocked whisper, not bothering to stop him from draining the glass once more. “And what do you mean he’s corporeal now?”

Giles took a deep breath and exhaled as he gestured vaguely with the empty glass. “Spike told Angel...Angel told me...and - ”

Buffy’s hand dropped from Giles’ wrist. “You’ve been talking to Angel?”

He didn’t have to be sober to hear the disappointment in her tone. In a way, her tone annoyed him...as it had always annoyed him. Because that tone said that no matter what Angel did, Buffy would forgive him anything.

His eyes flashed as he finally looked at her. “You know...I’d rather not talk to Angel or about Angel. I’d rather not talk about Spike and your love for him. And I’d rather not talk to you at all right now. I’m not sure why you’re even here as you’ve yet to explain that to me.”

She stared at him for a long moment, not exactly sure where his sudden anger had come from. She looked down at the drink he had poured for her and ran her finger along the rim of the tumbler.

“We missed Christmas.”

“We’ve missed Christmas before. In Sunnydale, we missed a fair few Christmases.” He replied abruptly, frustrated with himself for allowing his anger to surface.

“I didn’t love him.” She whispered, lifting her glistening hazel eyes up to meet his gaze. “Spike...I didn’t love him. It was just...well, what the hell was I supposed to say when he was willingly giving his life to save us?”

Giles scoffed, stopping short of rolling his eyes. “You think he did that out of the kindness of his dead heart?”

“He had a soul!” Buffy countered, staring up at him. “He got a soul for me! And he died for - ”

“You honestly believed him?” Giles blew out a frustrated breath and shook his head again. “He didn’t get a soul for you, love. He got a soul because of you. That’s a huge difference there. He didn’t go looking for a soul so you’d love him. He went to become the monster he was before he decided he was in love with you. He wanted you dead. But, the demon he went to thought it’d be funny to give him his soul instead.”

“No. No, he…”

“He what? He told you, so it had to be the truth? Buffy, love…he was still a demon.” Giles stated, reaching for the bottle of scotch.

“But, he still had the chip.” She whispered.

Giles gave a sad chuckle as he refilled his glass. “It wasn’t a truth chip, Buffy. That chip was designed merely to keep him from killing. He still lied and cheated his way through his undead life.”

“He loved me.”

Giles met her eyes as he placed the bottle on the table. “And you’ve never lied to anyone you’ve loved before, have you?”

Buffy was quiet for a few moments, watching Giles down his drink before picking up her own tumbler and swirling the amber liquid. She took a sip and winced as the alcohol warmed a path down her throat.

“So…he’s alive. Is he evil?”

“Just because he has a soul doesn’t mean he’s nice, Buffy. There are plenty of humans who have souls who are mindless psychopaths who torture or murder for their own enjoyment.” He rolled his eyes as Buffy merely arched an eyebrow at him. “But, he hasn’t tortured or murdered anyone that I know of. Does that make him a non-evil entity?”

“I don’t understand, Giles. Yeah, you should’ve told me as soon as you found out, but…” She took another sip and shook her head. “But, that’s not hate-making news.”

“I was almost relieved when the T’variash made their appearance.” He stated, averting his eyes from hers as he slid his empty glass onto the table.

Buffy’s eyes widened as she lowered her own glass. “What?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t want you here at Christmas.”

“Oh.” She dropped her glass onto the table and cleared her throat. “Guess you didn’t want me here for New Year either. Why’d you invite me to Christmas if you didn’t want me to come?”

His eyes darted to hers. “I did.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You just said - ”

“I wanted you to come…that’s why I didn’t want you here.” He interrupted, his tone stating that it should make perfect sense.

“God, why do you drink?” She asked in obvious frustration.

He reached out and grabbed her wrist as she turned to walk away from him. “Buffy…”

“I hate it when you’re drunk. You make no sense…always contradicting yourself and it’s…” She blew out a breath and narrowed her eyes at him. “Go sleep it off. Just…just go to bed, Giles.”

“Come with me.” He blurted, swallowing as her mouth dropped open. After a slight hesitation, he figured he might as well finish off his request. “To bed, I mean. Not to sleep, though. I’m not really interested in sleeping it off. Not yet.”

“What?” She asked, wondering if there was any possible way she could have misunderstood him somehow.

He let go of her wrist and took a step back from her. “Alcohol…loosens the tongue, remember? I, uh…I’m sorry, that was rather…I shouldn’t have asked. After all, there’s The Immortal to think of…”

“The Immortal? Giles, you know that was just a ruse, right? The Immortal and I…aren’t. And I have a feeling that he isn’t as immortal as his self-imposed title suggests. I used him to get information that you needed, nothing more and nothing less.”

“You seemed rather…cozy together, by all accounts.” He replied, glancing at the half-empty bottle of scotch.

“Then all accounts were wrong. You really should get a new giver of accounts, Andrew likes to embellish a little, you know.” She followed his gaze and shook her head. “I think you’ve had enough, don’t you?”

“Probably too much, considering I just propositioned you.” Giles agreed, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps it would be best if I just go to bed. I think I’ve done enough damage for one evening…and I’ve probably let more than a few truths slip out. Of course, you’re welcome to stay but I’ll also understand if you just want to catch the first plane back to Rome. I can…um…organize a driver for you, save you the cab fare.”

“Giles…”

“I’d drive you myself, but…I think I might be a tad over the limit.” He continued as though she hadn’t said his name.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” She asked softly, ducking her head to catch his eye once more.

“I wanted to kill him, Buffy.” He whispered, gesturing vaguely as he continued. “Spike. I wanted to kill him when I heard that he’s still alive in Los Angeles. Everything that he’d put you through…and then the soul…and…I wanted him dead. Ashes dead, not undead dead.”

“Why didn’t you? Kill him, I mean.”

He shrugged a shoulder and exhaled a shaky breath. “I tried, remember? Or…I tried to assist. And it cost me your trust. What would you have done had you found out that your lover was in fact alive…until I had killed him once and for all?”

“He wasn’t my lover, Giles. We had sex a few times…we weren’t lovers. And - ”

“I left work with the intention of coming home to call you.” Giles interrupted, rubbing his eyes that suddenly looked very tired. “To tell you about Spike. I’m not really sure how I ended up at the pub, but…it was probably for the best.”

Buffy took a step forward and reached out, placing her hand on his arm. “Giles? Let’s talk about this in the morning, okay? Because you really need some sleep, I think.”

“I’m not sure if I’m in love with you.” He paused as her fingers tightened on his arm. “But, I think I could be…quite easily. You should probably know that.”

She tilted her head slightly as he gently pulled his arm from her grip, giving her a small smile before turning and weaving his way down the hall. She caught up to him quickly, grabbing the back of his jacket to keep him from stumbling into the wall.

“Do you need any help?”

He chuckled and turned his head enough to meet her concerned gaze. “I’m fairly certain I can put myself to bed. I’ve been performing that task for a very long time. And I’ve put myself to bed in worse conditions than the one I’m in now. I’ll be fine.”

He gave a soft sigh and lifted his hand, running his lightly trembling fingers through her hair…just enough to push it back from her face. “You asked if we could talk in the morning…does this mean you’re staying the night?”

“Yeah.” She whispered, involuntarily leaning into his touch.

“Good.” He whispered in return, leaning down just enough to brush his lips across her forehead. “In the morning, then.”

Before she had a chance to respond, he lowered his hand and walked away…continuing on his journey down the hall. She stood there and watched him until he stumbled into his room, closing the door behind him.

She smiled, not exactly sure what had just happened…and not exactly sure of what he would remember in the morning. But, she’d wait and find out.

She glanced back into the living room and took a deep breath.

But, first…there was a phone call she needed to make.

* * *

Ten hours later, after a not-so-restful sleep on Giles’ very luxurious couch, Buffy was busy in the kitchen. She’d heard that a grease-laden breakfast was good for a hangover, not that it had ever worked the few times she’d had one herself.

“Are you…frying…bread?” A hoarse voice asked from behind her.

She grinned, nodding as she gestured with the spatula in her hand. “Yeah, in lots of butter. Bacon, sausage, eggs…ibuprofen’s on the counter.”

Giles smiled tiredly and ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. He shook two tablets out of the bottle and popped them into his mouth, chewing once before swallowing the glassful of water that she’d set out as well.

“Thank you.”

“Thought it might help. You and hangovers aren’t really the best of friends.” She looked over at him as she flipped the bread in the iron skillet. “How are you?”

“I’ve a headache, I’m thirsty and slightly queasy…” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter and slipped his right hand into the pocket of his jeans. “And…more than a little sorry.”

“Well, I can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me about Spike. I did have objectivity issues where he was concerned, but…that was a long time ago.”

He nodded slowly and reached over to flip the kettle on. “That’s very true, but…that’s not really why I’m sorry.”

Buffy bit her bottom lip and slid the perfectly fried bread onto a plate before turning the stove off. “So, you remember everything, huh?”

“With not-so-perfect clarity.” He replied with a sigh. “I, uh…the things I said last night, well…they would’ve had to have been more than a little unnerving.”

Buffy hesitated for a moment, busying herself with filling a plate with food for him. She placed the plate on the counter just as the kettle finished boiling.

“Yeah…hearing the truth about Spike’s soul was a little…unnerving, I guess. And so was hearing that he’s alive.” She finally said as she prepared two cups of tea. “But, Angel’s keeping a close eye on him.”

She offered him a smile as he gave her a quizzical look. “I called him last night after you went to bed. I hope that’s okay.”

“What? Oh, of course it is. However, that’s not exactly what I meant.”

She handed him a fork before picking up her cup of tea and blowing over the rim. “Well…some things aren’t as unnerving as some people might think they are.”

Giles’ eyes widened. “Buffy…”

“Eat, let the ibuprofen kick in…and then we’ll talk, okay? I’ll just go grab a quick shower, if that’s alright.”

He nodded numbly, pointing towards the hallway with his fork. “Fresh towels in the linen closet just outside the bathroom…”

“Thanks.” She smiled, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his cheek.

Well, she had intended for it be on his cheek. However, he turned slightly at the last second and her lips landed on the corner of his mouth.

She pulled back slowly, looking into his eyes to gauge his reaction. She vaguely recognized the sound of the fork landing on the plate a split second before she felt his arms move around her.

“Was that accidental?” He whispered, spreading his fingers across her lower back.

“Yeah…” She moved her left hand to his chest, curling her fingers into the material of his shirt to hold him in place. “But, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“I’m sorry?”

She offered him a warm smile, allowing her fingers to gently rub against his shirt. “Eat your breakfast, Giles. I’ll go get freshened up and…we’ll - ”

He interrupted her with a kiss. A kiss that was soft and sweet and not at all what Buffy would have expected, he was sure. Especially considering that he had basically asked her to have sex with him just the previous night.

When he felt her shift closer to him, he gently ended the kiss and gave her a smile. “Greasy, hangover-curing food should not be allowed to get cold before eating.”

“Um…” She started, confusion seeping into her hazel eyes.

His smile broadened as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We have much to talk about, Buffy.”

“More secrets to tell?” She asked, the confusion fading into a crooked grin.

“Secrets to tell, questions to ask, answers to give…” He replied, taking a step back from her and picking up his fork again. “Go on…go get ‘freshened up’, I believe was what you said.”

Buffy resisted the urge to barrage him with questions. After all, she really did need to take a shower as much as she wanted to take one. Instead of giving in to her urge, she gave him a wink and made her way to the door that led to the hallway.

She stopped in the doorway and shot him a brilliant smile. “Happy New Year, Giles.”

He looked up from his plate, grinning around a mouthful of food as she hurried down the hall towards the bathroom. He swallowed and took a large sip of the tea she’d made for him.

“I rather think it will be.” He stated happily, dragging a stool over with the toe of his left shoe. “A Happy New Year, indeed.”

~ End

The prompt I chose was: “Buffy leaves Rome to visit a very drunk Giles on New Year’s Eve who tells her some very unnerving truths.”