Drabble: Remembrance, Giles/Buffy R
Title: Remembrance
Author;maryfic
Disclaimer: Joss owns them - but I don't think he would go here.
Feedback: Of course, dahlink.
Rating/Pairing: Hard R, Giles/Buffy
Word Count: 284
A/N: Part of the Thanksgiving Drabble Challenge
She wasn’t dead. Far from it, in fact - Buffy was the longest lived slayer in existence. His slayer held that honor. But she wasn’t his anymore, was she?
He remembered the first time she’d touched him like that, after Jenny’s death. He’d been so very broken, remembering the lesson the Council had taught him about love: don’t do it, Ripper. Or we’ll tear you apart to take it out of you.
He’d not gone willingly, that was for damn sure - screaming for Ethan long after the doors had shut with a heavy clang. But he was thinking of Buffy - that first, sweet, touch. Brief as lightening, and almost as electrifying.
After that, it was different between them. She seemed more involved, somehow - or maybe that was simply his foolish thinking, that she was there for more than the sex and comfort he offered her after Angelus.
She’d not been in Los Angeles that summer, she’d been upstairs, wrapped in his sheets that still smelled of England and home, tormenting him during summer storms, the sticky swelter of July, and when she deigned to show herself again, it was though nothing had changed. But it had.
Fundamentally. He felt it when she danced with Xander, her eyes on him upstairs the entire time. When she went back to that damn vampire, he remembered what she’d given him.
Then she had died for a second time, and a third. After the last time, he remembered her as she was before, bright and shining, like some sort of alien creature. Had Heaven taken that from her and given him back this hard creature that hurt him for her own pleasure?
But he let her, while he remembered.
END
Author;maryfic
Disclaimer: Joss owns them - but I don't think he would go here.
Feedback: Of course, dahlink.
Rating/Pairing: Hard R, Giles/Buffy
Word Count: 284
A/N: Part of the Thanksgiving Drabble Challenge
She wasn’t dead. Far from it, in fact - Buffy was the longest lived slayer in existence. His slayer held that honor. But she wasn’t his anymore, was she?
He remembered the first time she’d touched him like that, after Jenny’s death. He’d been so very broken, remembering the lesson the Council had taught him about love: don’t do it, Ripper. Or we’ll tear you apart to take it out of you.
He’d not gone willingly, that was for damn sure - screaming for Ethan long after the doors had shut with a heavy clang. But he was thinking of Buffy - that first, sweet, touch. Brief as lightening, and almost as electrifying.
After that, it was different between them. She seemed more involved, somehow - or maybe that was simply his foolish thinking, that she was there for more than the sex and comfort he offered her after Angelus.
She’d not been in Los Angeles that summer, she’d been upstairs, wrapped in his sheets that still smelled of England and home, tormenting him during summer storms, the sticky swelter of July, and when she deigned to show herself again, it was though nothing had changed. But it had.
Fundamentally. He felt it when she danced with Xander, her eyes on him upstairs the entire time. When she went back to that damn vampire, he remembered what she’d given him.
Then she had died for a second time, and a third. After the last time, he remembered her as she was before, bright and shining, like some sort of alien creature. Had Heaven taken that from her and given him back this hard creature that hurt him for her own pleasure?
But he let her, while he remembered.
END