She found a shirt that fit - okay, she found a few, but that one amused the shit out of her. And she found a pair of pants, too. Kinda made her wonder what he must have gone home wearing, because she certainly never bought pants that size. Huh.
She ran a hand through her hair -- wait, so totally didn't have any. At least she was presentable? -- and threw the door open. And grinned. "Giles! Is that for me?"
... If she thought fast enough, this could be funny.
"Dirk," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "She had to take off for a bit, said if some dude dropped by it'd probably be either Dale or Giles. You don't look like a Dale. Score. Ten points for me. C'mon in."
"Please," Faith said, opening the door further. "She wanted to talk to you about ... something. I dunno. Sounded important. Something about the whole 'slating gig' she has going on. I dunno what slate has to do with anything."
"Sounds it," Faith said, mussing up her hair a little as she shut the door. "I ... was gonna offer you coffee, but you already got some. Which is good, I don't know where anything is. I hope she gets back soon, bro."
"What?" Giles could feel his eyes widen in what he was sure was a comical manner. "No, we've never... I'm not... That's not the basis of our relationship."
"Oh, okay," Faith said, nodding. "'Cause you've got that whole English thing going on. Some chicks seriously dig that. She said something about ... you'd probably be a pretty crazy lay. All that repression?"
Her straight face was started to crack around the edges.
The few cracks in the other person's demeanour did not go unnoticed and Giles began noticing other things as well -- such as a familiar tattoo on an unfamiliar arm.
He was a Watcher. More than that, he'd lived in Sunnydale for five years. He was used to jumping to outrageous but true conclusions.
And he had learned that sometimes it was best not to be all that repressed. And that sometimes he should give as good as he got.
"The truth?" he said, allowing himself a slight smile. "I doubt she could have kept up with me in my youth."
And alone.
Otherwise, this could be... awkward.
He knocked on the door.
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She ran a hand through her hair -- wait, so totally didn't have any. At least she was presentable? -- and threw the door open. And grinned. "Giles! Is that for me?"
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... If she thought fast enough, this could be funny.
"Dirk," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "She had to take off for a bit, said if some dude dropped by it'd probably be either Dale or Giles. You don't look like a Dale. Score. Ten points for me. C'mon in."
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Her straight face was started to crack around the edges.
Reply
He was a Watcher. More than that, he'd lived in Sunnydale for five years. He was used to jumping to outrageous but true conclusions.
And he had learned that sometimes it was best not to be all that repressed. And that sometimes he should give as good as he got.
"The truth?" he said, allowing himself a slight smile. "I doubt she could have kept up with me in my youth."
Reply
Reply
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