Newtonian Physics [BtVS; Giles/Jenny]
TITLE: Newtonian Physics
LESSON 2: The Law of Acceleration
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Giles/Jenny
SPOILERS: None; pre-series AU
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: The change of momentum of a body is proportional to the impulse impressed upon the body.
*****
Giles threw himself into his work for the next several days, which... granted, wasn't a difficult task with someone around like Buffy Summers. The girl seemed to breathe mischief, and as her Watcher he took it upon himself to keep her in line. Or as close to 'in-line' as he possibly could.
There were still terse encounters between he and that Calendar woman; the rest of their tour together on their first day had been awkward to say the least. And though the principal had seemingly noticed that tension, he hadn't broached the subject.
So for several days, Giles was left wondering just what precisely had led to him taking such a brash woman to his bed. She was beautiful, of course -- almost annoyingly-so, really -- but that was entirely beside the point.
And for days, he was left with nothing but hazy memories of their night together. The occasional flash of vivid imagery would hit him, at rather inopportune times, and he'd be left to puzzle over it for the rest of the day.
"Giles?"
Like now, for instance. He spotted her on the other end of the hallway, conversing with one of the other teachers and hugging her books to her chest. He watched her bring a to-go cup of coffee to her lips and he was suddenly assailed with an image of those very same lips trailing down his bare chest.
"Giles!"
Jumping slightly, he came out of his reverie to find Buffy staring at him. "What?"
"What's with you today?" she chuckled, and then followed his gaze down the hall, to where Jenny was still conversing with one of the male physics teachers. "Girl troubles?"
"What?" He made a face at her. "Don't be silly."
"Oh, sorry," she winced her remorse, then tried again. "Guy troubles?"
Now he gave her an aghast look. "I beg your pardon?"
She shrugged, throwing her hands up as she pressed her lips together. "Well, you said having girl troubles was silly, so I kinda thought..."
"No. I'm..." He shook his head, tugging at the lapels of his suit. "It's nothing. I'm fine."
"So are you gonna get all spacey on me a lot? Because I gotta be honest with ya..." She shrugged facially. "That's not really what I'm looking for in a Watcher."
Giles rolled his eyes. "Come along, Buffy, we're late for your training."
"But we wouldn't be if you weren't staring at those teachers. That's kinda my point."
"This discussion is over," he told her abruptly as they pushed each door of the library open, his ire growing when she merely giggled.
"Okay, sound more like a dad, Giles."
"Let's begin your training, shall we?"
Once Buffy had thoroughly exhausted him with a combination of hard punches and running chatter about an upcoming school dance, Giles let her go for the evening, throwing her a wave as she flounced off before reminding her to patrol that night.
When she was gone, Giles let out his breath and reached for the small hand towel he always kept handy, scrubbing it across the back of his neck. He'd mentally prepared himself for training a teenager, though it seemed he'd left the physical preparation out of it... and was currently paying for that oversight.
"Is this a bad time?"
He spun at the familiar voice. "M-Miss Calendar," and grabbed his button-down shirt, pulling it on over his tee shirt once more. "No, not at all."
She eyed him as she approached slowly, and Giles glanced down at his haphazard clothing before explaining, "I-I, ehm... I exercise in the afternoons. After school."
"Ah." Furrowing her brows, she gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. "Was that... Buffy Summers I just saw leaving here?"
"Uh... yes. Yes it was."
"Huh."
He watched her as she sat down atop the table near the mezzanine, quirking one eyebrow. The judgment was silent, but not at all subtle.
"I am not having an affair with a student," he hissed.
"Okay," she shrugged, hands up in supplication and indifference in her tone.
"I'm not. It'd be illegal, first of all, and second--"
"Relax, Rupert," she rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I'm well aware that someone as uptight as you wouldn't dare do anything inappropriate with a student." A smirk plucked at her lips as she added, "A colleague, though, that's another story."
"Oh, stop that," he threw her a sour look. "And I am not uptight."
"Yeah, you are."
"Am not."
She chuckled. "You really, really are. But, hey." She shrugged once more, hands up in the air again. "That's just who you are. It's not a big deal." Ignoring his glare, she narrowed her eyes contemplatively. "So what were you up to?"
"What?" He fixed his shirt buttons before glancing up at her with a furrowed brow.
"If you weren't in here engaging in some... extra-curricular activities, let's say... then what were you doing?"
Giles looked down, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves. It was unbearably warm in the library. "If I told you, it's doubtful you'd believe me."
"Try me."
Rather than respond, he simply huffed, "What can I do for you?"
"We need to talk."
His eyes shot to hers, mind already churning at an impressive rate. They'd only spent one night together, and only several days had passed. She couldn't possibly be... no. No, the thought was silly.
Still, his stomach somersaulted as he asked, "Y-Yes?"
"Relax," she told him again. "It's not about... that."
"Then what?"
"Well, I'm supposed to install a new computer system here in the library. Sort of a computer-generated search function, rather than those poor kids having to look through that musty card catalogue--"
He bristled, cutting her off. "And what exactly is wrong with the card catalogue?"
"Other than it being insanely outdated and smelling kinda funny, nothing." She shrugged her shoulders. "Flutie would just like a more... contemporary filing system put in place."
Giles fixed her with a narrowed-eye gaze. "Miss Calendar, I'll have you know that the Dewey decimal system has been in place since 1876. It is far from being outdated. It has expanded with the times, and--"
"Look," she held up her hands, "I'm only following orders."
Giles followed the motion of her hands with his eyes, another flashing image hitting him of those same hands trailing slowly down his unbuttoned shirt, and then pushing it off his shoulders. He shuddered, coming out of the brief reverie as she went on without noticing his absence.
"I just wanted to talk to you beforehand because it's going to require a lot of long hours. A lot of cooperation between the two of us. And given how we, uh... met..." Her raised brow made the implication clear, "I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay with it."
Giles nodded, a bit too emphatically to be nonchalant, as he folded his arms across his chest and told her, "Of-of course. I mean..." he gestured to her, "g-given that you're merely following orders and all."
"Right. Because if it were up to me? I'd probably stay far away from here." She glanced around the library.
Giles frowned, put-off by her remark. "I'm not exactly thrilled to spend quality time with you, either."
She sighed. "It'll only take a couple weeks, max. Then we'll be out of each other's hair for good. And I promise I'll play nice if you do. Deal?" She held out her hand.
Giles eyed it warily for a moment before hesitantly closing his own around it. In that instant, he got another flash of their night together; his hand giving a tug on hers, pulling her close as their lips crashed together.
Clearing his throat, he jerked his hand away, averting his eyes when she gave him a curious look. "Deal," he muttered.
How bad could it truly be?
*****
Apparently, he had no idea what he'd signed up for when he agreed to let that Calendar woman invade his book-laden sanctuary. When she wasn't conducting classes, she was in the library, with him, asking him a thousand inane questions about the Dewey decimal system, how things are indexed, all in order to tailor some silly... computer system... to do the exact same thing.
In that time, she'd managed to find out his secret, and Buffy's. One afternoon, he hadn't been aware that she'd been back in the stacks when Buffy came by, babbling about some new demon she'd encountered. As he instructed her how to kill it, he'd heard a book dropping somewhere behind him, and had gone into the stacks once his Slayer had gone.
Strangely, she wasn't scared off or even repulsed, which was rather unusual indeed. Instead she seemed fascinated... curious. Something that intrigued him more than it should've.
Not to mention, he was still piecing together their hazy night from a couple weeks ago. It always came in flashes, and was never enough for him to form a full picture of what had happened. There had been an attraction, certainly. One that was unfortunately still present in long silences.
Occasionally he'd watch her puttering about the four computers she'd set up at the table near the mezzanine, humming indecipherable tunes or sometimes just pursing her lips. He'd look at those lips, at her slim fingers pushing her dark hair behind her ear and he'd find himself struck with impulses -- to kiss, to touch -- but of course those impulses would fade when she'd open her mouth and begin arguing with him about some insignificant thing.
And so this routine continued for another week. The inane questions, the frustration and annoyance, the occasional impulses to shove her against a wall and kiss her senseless. And today was no different. Today, she seemed even more tenacious, even more bothersome, following him around like a cat.
"All I'm saying is that if you'd just sit down with me for a half hour, Rupert, I'd stop asking you all these questions!"
"Well I don't see why you can't figure it out on your own in the first place!" he shot back, giving her a look over his shoulder as he stalked toward his office.
"Maybe because I'm not as in love with the Dewey decimal system as you are. I don't know the ins and outs of it like you. That's why I need you." Huffing, she leaned against the door frame of his office and folded her arms across her chest, regarding him. "Why is it so difficult for you to just work with me, Rupert?"
"Perhaps I'm just a difficult person to work with, Miss Calendar." He glanced up just in time to see her rolling her eyes.
"Or perhaps it's something more than that." She took a confrontational few steps toward him.
"Yes, like the fact that you're quite possibly the most infuriating woman I've ever encountered?"
"But why, Rupert?" She took another step into him. "What's so infuriating about me? Is it the fact that I've invaded your precious little sanctuary?"
Giles blanched briefly at her wording, having thought the same exact thing before.
She went on without noticing. "Is it that I'm bothering you in the middle of your workday? Because I gotta say, the library's not exactly crawling with students eager to check stuff out."
Giles just stared at his desk, clenching his hands into fists at his sides as he tried to control his irritation, not to mention the bubbling impulses.
"What is it?" she prodded, raising her voice a bit. "Huh?"
"It's everything!" he finally spat. "Everything about you is infuriating."
She looked taken aback by that, but didn't back down or relax her confrontational stance. "Everything."
"Yes, everything. Your looks, your attire, your perfume, the way you purse your lips when you're concentrating, just... everything." He looked up at her with wild eyes. "It's maddening. Not to mention the way you ask questions and are always underfoot like a stray cat, I-I... I can't get away from you. And right now, that's all I want."
The air between them was thick... tense... almost unbearably silent. Then, she lifted one eyebrow and asked him lowly, "Is that all you want, Rupert?"
It was the voice. It was her damned infuriating voice, low... kind, but with a smoky edge. The impulse became too great to control and he pushed her against the door, slamming it closed with her body as he pressed his lips upon hers.
She made a noise against his lips... protest or perhaps something else... as her hands pushed into his chest, starting to shove him away. Then all it once, it seemed as though she changed her mind, and instead grabbed his lapels and tugged him close while their tongues tangled.
Memories returned to him in vivid, pulsing imagery. Her hands, tangling in his hair as they sunk against his front door. His hands, pushing her leather jacket from her shoulders until it hit the floor in his entryway. The way they had tripped over each other moving up the stairs, loathe to break their heated kiss. And then the way they had tumbled into bed, bodies crashing together as their eyes met and their lips found each other again.
It was suddenly all too much. So Giles forced his impulses away and pushed at her shoulders, forcing himself to step back from her. "Yes," he whispered, his voice low and husky, shaking with the force of holding himself back. "Yes, that's all I want. I want to get away from you right now. I-I... want all of this to stop."
He forced himself not to look up at her, certain that if he saw her dilated pupils or flushed skin, he'd be powerless to control himself. Instead, he kept his eyes averted, listening as she panted softly before telling him, "Fine. If that's what you want... fine. I'll, um... I'll finish up what's left of the computer programming when you're not here."
He nodded, keeping his eyes from hers. "I think that's best, yes."
And it truly was. If things kept accelerating at this rate, he'd do something they'd both come to regret. Much like that first drunken night together.
Yes, staying away from one another. That was much better.
TBC
{x-posted to gilesjenny}
LESSON 2: The Law of Acceleration
FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
PAIRING: Giles/Jenny
SPOILERS: None; pre-series AU
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: The change of momentum of a body is proportional to the impulse impressed upon the body.
*****
Giles threw himself into his work for the next several days, which... granted, wasn't a difficult task with someone around like Buffy Summers. The girl seemed to breathe mischief, and as her Watcher he took it upon himself to keep her in line. Or as close to 'in-line' as he possibly could.
There were still terse encounters between he and that Calendar woman; the rest of their tour together on their first day had been awkward to say the least. And though the principal had seemingly noticed that tension, he hadn't broached the subject.
So for several days, Giles was left wondering just what precisely had led to him taking such a brash woman to his bed. She was beautiful, of course -- almost annoyingly-so, really -- but that was entirely beside the point.
And for days, he was left with nothing but hazy memories of their night together. The occasional flash of vivid imagery would hit him, at rather inopportune times, and he'd be left to puzzle over it for the rest of the day.
"Giles?"
Like now, for instance. He spotted her on the other end of the hallway, conversing with one of the other teachers and hugging her books to her chest. He watched her bring a to-go cup of coffee to her lips and he was suddenly assailed with an image of those very same lips trailing down his bare chest.
"Giles!"
Jumping slightly, he came out of his reverie to find Buffy staring at him. "What?"
"What's with you today?" she chuckled, and then followed his gaze down the hall, to where Jenny was still conversing with one of the male physics teachers. "Girl troubles?"
"What?" He made a face at her. "Don't be silly."
"Oh, sorry," she winced her remorse, then tried again. "Guy troubles?"
Now he gave her an aghast look. "I beg your pardon?"
She shrugged, throwing her hands up as she pressed her lips together. "Well, you said having girl troubles was silly, so I kinda thought..."
"No. I'm..." He shook his head, tugging at the lapels of his suit. "It's nothing. I'm fine."
"So are you gonna get all spacey on me a lot? Because I gotta be honest with ya..." She shrugged facially. "That's not really what I'm looking for in a Watcher."
Giles rolled his eyes. "Come along, Buffy, we're late for your training."
"But we wouldn't be if you weren't staring at those teachers. That's kinda my point."
"This discussion is over," he told her abruptly as they pushed each door of the library open, his ire growing when she merely giggled.
"Okay, sound more like a dad, Giles."
"Let's begin your training, shall we?"
Once Buffy had thoroughly exhausted him with a combination of hard punches and running chatter about an upcoming school dance, Giles let her go for the evening, throwing her a wave as she flounced off before reminding her to patrol that night.
When she was gone, Giles let out his breath and reached for the small hand towel he always kept handy, scrubbing it across the back of his neck. He'd mentally prepared himself for training a teenager, though it seemed he'd left the physical preparation out of it... and was currently paying for that oversight.
"Is this a bad time?"
He spun at the familiar voice. "M-Miss Calendar," and grabbed his button-down shirt, pulling it on over his tee shirt once more. "No, not at all."
She eyed him as she approached slowly, and Giles glanced down at his haphazard clothing before explaining, "I-I, ehm... I exercise in the afternoons. After school."
"Ah." Furrowing her brows, she gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. "Was that... Buffy Summers I just saw leaving here?"
"Uh... yes. Yes it was."
"Huh."
He watched her as she sat down atop the table near the mezzanine, quirking one eyebrow. The judgment was silent, but not at all subtle.
"I am not having an affair with a student," he hissed.
"Okay," she shrugged, hands up in supplication and indifference in her tone.
"I'm not. It'd be illegal, first of all, and second--"
"Relax, Rupert," she rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I'm well aware that someone as uptight as you wouldn't dare do anything inappropriate with a student." A smirk plucked at her lips as she added, "A colleague, though, that's another story."
"Oh, stop that," he threw her a sour look. "And I am not uptight."
"Yeah, you are."
"Am not."
She chuckled. "You really, really are. But, hey." She shrugged once more, hands up in the air again. "That's just who you are. It's not a big deal." Ignoring his glare, she narrowed her eyes contemplatively. "So what were you up to?"
"What?" He fixed his shirt buttons before glancing up at her with a furrowed brow.
"If you weren't in here engaging in some... extra-curricular activities, let's say... then what were you doing?"
Giles looked down, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves. It was unbearably warm in the library. "If I told you, it's doubtful you'd believe me."
"Try me."
Rather than respond, he simply huffed, "What can I do for you?"
"We need to talk."
His eyes shot to hers, mind already churning at an impressive rate. They'd only spent one night together, and only several days had passed. She couldn't possibly be... no. No, the thought was silly.
Still, his stomach somersaulted as he asked, "Y-Yes?"
"Relax," she told him again. "It's not about... that."
"Then what?"
"Well, I'm supposed to install a new computer system here in the library. Sort of a computer-generated search function, rather than those poor kids having to look through that musty card catalogue--"
He bristled, cutting her off. "And what exactly is wrong with the card catalogue?"
"Other than it being insanely outdated and smelling kinda funny, nothing." She shrugged her shoulders. "Flutie would just like a more... contemporary filing system put in place."
Giles fixed her with a narrowed-eye gaze. "Miss Calendar, I'll have you know that the Dewey decimal system has been in place since 1876. It is far from being outdated. It has expanded with the times, and--"
"Look," she held up her hands, "I'm only following orders."
Giles followed the motion of her hands with his eyes, another flashing image hitting him of those same hands trailing slowly down his unbuttoned shirt, and then pushing it off his shoulders. He shuddered, coming out of the brief reverie as she went on without noticing his absence.
"I just wanted to talk to you beforehand because it's going to require a lot of long hours. A lot of cooperation between the two of us. And given how we, uh... met..." Her raised brow made the implication clear, "I just wanted to make sure you'd be okay with it."
Giles nodded, a bit too emphatically to be nonchalant, as he folded his arms across his chest and told her, "Of-of course. I mean..." he gestured to her, "g-given that you're merely following orders and all."
"Right. Because if it were up to me? I'd probably stay far away from here." She glanced around the library.
Giles frowned, put-off by her remark. "I'm not exactly thrilled to spend quality time with you, either."
She sighed. "It'll only take a couple weeks, max. Then we'll be out of each other's hair for good. And I promise I'll play nice if you do. Deal?" She held out her hand.
Giles eyed it warily for a moment before hesitantly closing his own around it. In that instant, he got another flash of their night together; his hand giving a tug on hers, pulling her close as their lips crashed together.
Clearing his throat, he jerked his hand away, averting his eyes when she gave him a curious look. "Deal," he muttered.
How bad could it truly be?
*****
Apparently, he had no idea what he'd signed up for when he agreed to let that Calendar woman invade his book-laden sanctuary. When she wasn't conducting classes, she was in the library, with him, asking him a thousand inane questions about the Dewey decimal system, how things are indexed, all in order to tailor some silly... computer system... to do the exact same thing.
In that time, she'd managed to find out his secret, and Buffy's. One afternoon, he hadn't been aware that she'd been back in the stacks when Buffy came by, babbling about some new demon she'd encountered. As he instructed her how to kill it, he'd heard a book dropping somewhere behind him, and had gone into the stacks once his Slayer had gone.
Strangely, she wasn't scared off or even repulsed, which was rather unusual indeed. Instead she seemed fascinated... curious. Something that intrigued him more than it should've.
Not to mention, he was still piecing together their hazy night from a couple weeks ago. It always came in flashes, and was never enough for him to form a full picture of what had happened. There had been an attraction, certainly. One that was unfortunately still present in long silences.
Occasionally he'd watch her puttering about the four computers she'd set up at the table near the mezzanine, humming indecipherable tunes or sometimes just pursing her lips. He'd look at those lips, at her slim fingers pushing her dark hair behind her ear and he'd find himself struck with impulses -- to kiss, to touch -- but of course those impulses would fade when she'd open her mouth and begin arguing with him about some insignificant thing.
And so this routine continued for another week. The inane questions, the frustration and annoyance, the occasional impulses to shove her against a wall and kiss her senseless. And today was no different. Today, she seemed even more tenacious, even more bothersome, following him around like a cat.
"All I'm saying is that if you'd just sit down with me for a half hour, Rupert, I'd stop asking you all these questions!"
"Well I don't see why you can't figure it out on your own in the first place!" he shot back, giving her a look over his shoulder as he stalked toward his office.
"Maybe because I'm not as in love with the Dewey decimal system as you are. I don't know the ins and outs of it like you. That's why I need you." Huffing, she leaned against the door frame of his office and folded her arms across her chest, regarding him. "Why is it so difficult for you to just work with me, Rupert?"
"Perhaps I'm just a difficult person to work with, Miss Calendar." He glanced up just in time to see her rolling her eyes.
"Or perhaps it's something more than that." She took a confrontational few steps toward him.
"Yes, like the fact that you're quite possibly the most infuriating woman I've ever encountered?"
"But why, Rupert?" She took another step into him. "What's so infuriating about me? Is it the fact that I've invaded your precious little sanctuary?"
Giles blanched briefly at her wording, having thought the same exact thing before.
She went on without noticing. "Is it that I'm bothering you in the middle of your workday? Because I gotta say, the library's not exactly crawling with students eager to check stuff out."
Giles just stared at his desk, clenching his hands into fists at his sides as he tried to control his irritation, not to mention the bubbling impulses.
"What is it?" she prodded, raising her voice a bit. "Huh?"
"It's everything!" he finally spat. "Everything about you is infuriating."
She looked taken aback by that, but didn't back down or relax her confrontational stance. "Everything."
"Yes, everything. Your looks, your attire, your perfume, the way you purse your lips when you're concentrating, just... everything." He looked up at her with wild eyes. "It's maddening. Not to mention the way you ask questions and are always underfoot like a stray cat, I-I... I can't get away from you. And right now, that's all I want."
The air between them was thick... tense... almost unbearably silent. Then, she lifted one eyebrow and asked him lowly, "Is that all you want, Rupert?"
It was the voice. It was her damned infuriating voice, low... kind, but with a smoky edge. The impulse became too great to control and he pushed her against the door, slamming it closed with her body as he pressed his lips upon hers.
She made a noise against his lips... protest or perhaps something else... as her hands pushed into his chest, starting to shove him away. Then all it once, it seemed as though she changed her mind, and instead grabbed his lapels and tugged him close while their tongues tangled.
Memories returned to him in vivid, pulsing imagery. Her hands, tangling in his hair as they sunk against his front door. His hands, pushing her leather jacket from her shoulders until it hit the floor in his entryway. The way they had tripped over each other moving up the stairs, loathe to break their heated kiss. And then the way they had tumbled into bed, bodies crashing together as their eyes met and their lips found each other again.
It was suddenly all too much. So Giles forced his impulses away and pushed at her shoulders, forcing himself to step back from her. "Yes," he whispered, his voice low and husky, shaking with the force of holding himself back. "Yes, that's all I want. I want to get away from you right now. I-I... want all of this to stop."
He forced himself not to look up at her, certain that if he saw her dilated pupils or flushed skin, he'd be powerless to control himself. Instead, he kept his eyes averted, listening as she panted softly before telling him, "Fine. If that's what you want... fine. I'll, um... I'll finish up what's left of the computer programming when you're not here."
He nodded, keeping his eyes from hers. "I think that's best, yes."
And it truly was. If things kept accelerating at this rate, he'd do something they'd both come to regret. Much like that first drunken night together.
Yes, staying away from one another. That was much better.
TBC
{x-posted to gilesjenny}