Fic: The Note, Buffy/Giles (NC17)
Title: The Note
Author: 5believers
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Timeline: Directly following the events of A New Man.
Rating: NC17 to be safe
Words: 8253 (a bit lot longer than I’d intended)
Summary: Written for drunken_giles. Prompt 19: Someone knows (or experiments to find out), exactly how much alcohol is needed to get Ripper to come out to play.
Author’s Notes: I know I didn’t actually claim any prompts, but since the comm is still open, I figured no one would mind if I claimed this one.
This fic didn’t turn out the way I intended it to at all. Buffy and Giles kinda got away from me at some point and I never quite managed to get them back to where I thought they should’ve been. Riley decided to show up as well, even though I told him not to. I don’t know how any of this happened.
Also, I’m not much of a drinker myself, so the amounts of alcohol might be way, way off. Sorry about that. I didn’t really want to call my dad to ask him just how much Scotch it would take to get him drunk.
Constructive criticism would be much appreciated, especially since this is the first fic I’ve ever really finished. (Many abandoned beginnings reside on my laptop, however.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing Buffy-related, all of that belongs to Joss and Fox and Mutant Enemy, WB and such.
The Note
Vowing to herself to spend more time with Giles, at the very least to make sure he wouldn’t go off drinking again with old buddies who then turned him into demons, Buffy started getting ready for bed. Today had been entirely too close a call, and she quickly repressed the thought of what would’ve happened if the letter opener had been pure silver. Some quality Watcher/Slayer time was definitely in order, she decided while putting away her clothes.
She turned back to her bed, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A slip of paper lay on the ground, directly underneath her jeans, as if it had slipped out of her pocket. She frowned, picked it up and unfolded it.
Even though I’m terribly sorry it almost cost Ripper his life, I was only having a little fun with him because you weren’t. You never did understand how to make Ripper come out and play, you were all too willing to believe that he was as stuffy as the tweed he insisted on wearing. Although I have to admit that it was partly due to your neglect he agreed to grab a drink with me, so I guess I owe you a word of thanks. However, I do put some value on Ripper’s life, so be a doll, and take care of the old fellow. Five glasses of Scotch and four pints usually do the trick.
~Ethan
Buffy’s frown had increased considerably while reading, and her eyebrows shot up on the last sentence. Who the hell did Ethan think he was? And what did he even mean by that? Do what trick? Take care of… what?
Part of her wanted to crumple up the note and throw it out, but the part that had just moments earlier decided to pay more attention to Giles had other ideas. Ethan may be rude, annoying and occasionally even dangerous, he did sort of have a point. If she hadn’t been ignoring Giles so much, he’d never have gone out drinking with the sorcerer. And almost gotten himself killed. By me. Buffy shut her eyes, refusing to think about how close she’d come to taking her Watcher’s life.
She folded up the note and put it in her nightstand. She had no intention of getting Giles drunk, but she figured she could use the reminder, just in case she got distracted by Riley and forgot about her Watcher again. Her last thought before falling asleep was how Ethan could possibly have slipped that note in her pocket.
Magic. When Buffy awoke the next morning, it seemed obvious. Ethan must have used some kind of mind magic or whatever, to transport the note into her pocket. He’d probably had plenty of time to write it while enjoying the effects his spell had had on Giles. Bastard.
Normally she’d ask Willow about the possibility of it having been done by magic, but Willow would definitely want to know what was in the note, and Buffy wasn’t really sure she was willing to share it. She felt guilty about the things Ethan had said about her in the note, because she knew they were true.
Not only had she not been paying any attention to Giles lately, she’d never really bothered to look behind his stuffy exterior. Why should she? He’d chosen to wear tweed and act all prim and proper in high school, so it was only logical that that was how she viewed him. Sure, he’d shown a different side to himself when Eyghon made an appearance. And when he’d eaten the band candy. But, overall, he was bookish mister reliable, and Buffy had easily repressed all the evidence of the fact he used to go by the name of Ripper. But that was what Giles wanted too, right? Aside from the much needed info on Eyghon, he’d kept suspiciously mum about his past. And Buffy hadn’t wanted to know.
Grown-ups weren’t supposed to be persons, and they most definitely weren’t supposed to be persons that had sex with her mother on the hood of a police car. Twice. She repressed a little shudder. Nope, she really didn’t want to know what a stevedore was.
So trying to summon Ripper using alcohol seemed like a really, really bad idea. He probably wouldn’t be as impossible as he’d been while under the influence of the band candy, and not as depressed as when she’d found him drinking alone when his old friend Philip had turned up dead, but the idea of Giles and alcohol was definitely a scary one. No good would come of it, she decided, so she would keep the note to herself and try to forget about it.
Forgetting about Giles, however, was high on her list of things she shouldn’t be doing, so after breakfast she made her way over to his house.
******
After waking up after a much needed night of sleep, Giles surveyed the damage he’d done to his house during his time as a Fyarl demon. He took in the broken banister, the ruined door and the destroyed phone. He sighed.
‘Well, at least I’ll have plenty of time to get everything fixed’, he muttered, and then decided that replacing his telephone really was the first order of business. Not that anyone’s been calling me lately. He shook of the maudlin thought and went to prepare some breakfast, glad to find that most of the kitchen seemed to have come out of this adventure unscathed.
He was just about to take a bite of his toast, when he heard creaking noises coming from the wreckage of his front door. He looked up to find his Slayer tentatively pushing open the door and peeking inside.
‘Giles?’
He sighed inwardly, on the one hand happy to see her, on the other not entirely ready to deal with what would either be a pity visit, or a scolding for having gone out drinking with Ethan.
‘Hello Buffy’, is what he said. ‘Come on in.’
She gave him a small smile and tried to put the door back in place, but instead knocked it even further off its hinges.
‘Oops!’ she exclaimed, embarrassed. ‘Sorry Giles, I guess I’m better at taking doors off their hinges, than putting them back on them.’
‘That’s alright Buffy, it’s hardly your fault. I need to call someone to have it fixed anyway.’
‘Why haven’t you called them yet?’
Giles stared pointedly at the remnants of his phone.
‘Ah.’ He watched Buffy take in the state of his apartment, and waited for her to comment. A witty remark of some sort was undoubtedly forthcoming.
Her eyes found his. ‘I’m sorry’, she said softly, so softly that Giles wondered if he’d heard her right.
‘What on earth are you apologising for Buffy?’ he asked, knowing what he wanted her to apologise for, but needing her to say it.
Buffy walked over to him, but seemed to change her mind halfway, and settled on leaning against the back of the couch instead.
‘For being a crappy Slayer who’s been neglecting her Watcher.’
‘I’m not your Watcher anymore Buffy.’ He didn’t know why he said that. It was him she’d neglected, Watcher or not, and maybe he needed her to acknowledge that there was more to him than being a Watcher. Maybe he needed to hear that there was more to him than being a Watcher. Because he hadn’t been much of anything lately.
‘I don’t care what the Council says Giles. I’m the Slayer, you’re my Watcher. Period.’
He nodded, but couldn’t meet her eyes. It really had been too much to hope that she’d recognise that he was more than just a Watcher. Are you? Really? The little voice in his head was about to continue down this path of self-doubt, but his Slayer interrupted it.
‘And for not telling you about Riley being in the Initiative. And just, you know.’ She made a little movement with her hands. Ever the great communicator. He smiled just a little at that. It was something they definitely had in common.
He looked up again, and sighed. ‘It’s alright Buffy, I understand.’ He didn’t want to understand, not really, but he did. She was simply trying to enjoy herself, enjoy the college experience, which wasn’t a place where he fit in. He was the old man who constantly reminded her of her destiny, of the fighting, and the constant risk of a premature death. He couldn’t blame her for preferring a life that involved going out with her boyfriend.
She looked relieved at his words, and he felt surprised at the realisation that perhaps she hadn’t come over simply because she felt guilty about almost killing him. Perhaps she genuinely regretted her treatment of him in the past few months, in which case, there might be hope to salvage their relationship just yet. He smiled at her. ‘Would you like some tea?’
******
That afternoon Buffy got back to her dorm feeling a whole lot better. Ethan was an idiot if he felt alcohol was needed to enjoy Giles’ company. Tea worked just as well. They’d spent the whole morning talking - Ethan-bashing had been partaken in with glee by both of them - and Buffy had realised that she’d missed her Watcher.
She’d never put much thought into her relationship with Giles, a Watcher and a Slayer were pretty much forced on each other, but it was a relationship unlike any other. He wasn’t like the friends you picked, but he wasn’t exactly like the family you grew up with either. She guessed she was lucky to have gotten Giles as her Watcher, especially since none of the other Watchers she’d met or heard about seemed to be anywhere near as nice as him, if not actually evil.
Giles had felt the need to remind her that he’d been fired, but to Buffy there was no doubt about who her Watcher was. He’d stayed, hadn’t he? He could’ve gone back to England if this was just a job to him, but he’d been chosen, much as she had, and he wasn’t one to shirk his responsibilities. Well, at least grown-up Giles isn’t. Ripper was all about the shirking.
He’d stayed for her, and she’d thanked him by ignoring him. The image of Olivia in his robe sprung unbidden to her mind, but she shook it off. In hindsight, her response to finding a half-naked woman in his apartment, and a not-so-much-fully-dressed Giles as well, had been really childish. Buffy blamed it on having had a really bad day, but that wasn’t Giles’ fault. He’d shown up to help, eventually. But the damage had been done, and she’d tried to give him some privacy and to get by without him.
She thought she’d been doing fine on her own, with a little help from Riley and her friends of course, but she now knew that she’d missed Giles. Perhaps a Slayer just really needed a Watcher to stay sane. And apparently, a Watcher really needed a Slayer to stay sane and avoid getting plastered with an old evil sorcerer buddy.
So she’d told him she’d be back tomorrow night, before patrol. Which, maybe, she thought, he might want to join her on.
******
In much better spirits than he’d been in ages, Giles spent the next two days reading up on ancient prophecies, and determined there wasn’t really anything to worry about at the moment. He’d gotten a new phone, and had immediately called someone to fix his door, which was now back on its hinges and looking sturdier than it had in ages. The rest of the damage would be taken care of soon as well.
The talk with Buffy had done him good, and he was positively excited about the thought of joining her on her patrol tonight. If she wants you to join, that is. The feeling he’d gotten yesterday though, was that she wouldn’t mind if he tagged along. It had been much too long since he’d seen her slay, and the Watcher-part of him worried if she’d kept up her training and whether he should suggest they start training together again. He supposed she’d prefer to train with her boyfriend, but military training and Slayer training weren’t exactly the same thing. He’d broach the subject tonight, he decided.
When the knock at his newly restored door sounded, just before midnight, he was surprised. Buffy never knocked. He got up to open the door - a simple ‘come in!’ could have disastrous consequences in Sunnydale - and found his Slayer waiting for him on the other side. Seeing his confused look, she answered the question he hadn’t asked yet.
‘I figured I should be respecting your privacy, instead of just barging in like I owned the place. Also, I think you should lock your door more often.’
It took him by surprise. She really had matured in the time she’d spent avoiding his place, something which was actually quite remarkable for a college student. And she had a point, of course. His habit of leaving the door unlocked had really gotten out of hand, and now that the door had been fitted with a shiny new lock, perhaps it was time for him to start using it.
‘Thank you Buffy, I appreciate that.’ He gestured for her to come in. ‘And I will most certainly start locking my door, especially now that it’s back in its rightful place.’ He’d noticed her nodding approvingly, and slightly touching the hinges when she’d stepped in.
‘But I’ll tell you what, I’ll get you a key, so you’ll be able to enter in case of emergencies.’
She smiled brightly at that. ‘Thanks Giles, I’d like that.’ She was quiet for a moment, before saying: ‘So, patrol? You wanna come with?’
This time it was Giles’ turn to smile. ‘Yes Buffy, I’d love to. As long as you won’t mind me making some notes on your techniques.’
‘Nah, it’ll be just like old times, except less studying for the SATs.’ And with that, Slayer and Watcher made their way into the dark night .
******
The next few weeks passed in much the same fashion for Buffy and Giles. They’d patrol, and Giles would give her some tips which she would work on, sometimes with Riley, sometimes with Giles himself. She was surprised on the differences between training with the two men. She’d expected to like training with Riley better, because, let’s face it, if you have to get all sweaty and up-close to someone, it might as well be your boyfriend. But she always came out of these sessions slightly annoyed.
It took her a while to figure out exactly why, and when she did, she wished she hadn’t. Training with Riley wasn’t really training, it was a competition. It was always a competition. He just couldn’t stand the idea of losing to a girl, but that was what inevitably kept happening. That in itself was annoying enough, but it actually hindered her training, because instead of focusing on her moves, she ended up putting all her energy in trying to win. That wasn’t good. She needed that energy for actual fights.
Training with Giles, on the other hand, always made her feel better. He took the time to notice exactly was she was doing wrong, but also what she was doing right. And he never cared if she kicked his ass. He actually looked proud whenever she knocked him down to the floor in a neatly executed manoeuvre.
She sat down with Riley in his dorm room to talk to him about it, but didn’t go too well. Everything seemed to come out wrong, and she could tell that Riley was getting upset. She tried to explain why training with Giles was much more effective for her, but that really seemed to offend him.
‘So you’re saying that Mr. Giles is better than me?’ his tone held the middle between anger and disappointment.
‘No no, it’s not like that. It’s just that… as a Slayer, my training is different from yours. And Giles was trained to train Slayers, so, you know, that’s why I think his methods work better.’
‘So he is better than me.’
‘No! Riley! I’m just saying that whenever we train, we turn it into a competition, both of us do. But that’s not what training should be. I’m supposed to practise my moves, hone my instincts, not put all my energy into kicking your butt.’
She was really trying her best to explain this properly, but she could see in Riley’s eyes that it wasn’t working too well.
‘Yeah. Well, I guess it doesn’t take you any energy at all to kick Mr. Giles’ butt. How does that guy even train you anyway? He really isn’t in any shape to keep up with you.’
Annoyed, Buffy decided that this conversation was really going nowhere, or rather, it was going somewhere not good, and she wanted to avoid that, because aside from the training things were going really well with Riley. Or, at least, they had been going well. This wasn’t good.
‘Giles doesn’t care if I kick his butt, because he knows that I have supernatural strengths that he doesn’t have. And he’s in much better shape than you think.’
Well. That wasn’t the answer she’d intended to give. She’d planned on ending this discussion and just continue training the way they had, figuring that she could at least use her frustration with him to kick his butt even more easily. But she hadn’t, and she realised that this definitely wasn’t what Riley had wanted to hear, because he looked even more upset than before and she could see the anger welling up behind his eyes. He really did have nice eyes.
‘And how exactly do you know what shape Mr. Giles is in?’ he asked, the anger in his eyes belying the suddenly much calmer tone of his voice.
Buffy frowned, then raised her eyebrows as the implications of what he’d just said sunk in.
‘Because I train with him, Riley. We train. And he comes along on patrol and manages to hold his own against a vampire. Without any military equipment.’
She knew the last bit hadn’t been entirely necessary, but she couldn’t believe what Riley had been implying. Did he honestly believe she would cheat on him with Giles? Perhaps their relationship wasn’t in such good shape if he thought she could be unfaithful to him. And if the fact that you’re stronger than him is such a big deal to him.
Riley just shook his head, evidently too upset to speak. Buffy considered trying to explain further. And perhaps better, but she realised she was running late for her training session with Giles. That’ll go over well, she thought, but she didn’t want to stick around any longer. Riley needed to get over the fact that he wasn’t Captain America and she really needed to work out her frustrations in a nice training session with her Watcher. She got up. Riley followed her rise with his eyes.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m late for my training session with Giles.’ She'd considered lying about it, but figured that wouldn’t exactly make things better either.
‘You’re joking.’
‘Nope. I’m really running late, and since this discussion is going absolutely nowhere, I’m going to leave now.’
‘Fine.’ He stared straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. ‘Go be with him, since I’m useless to you anyway.’
Buffy rolled her eyes.
‘Enough with the pity-party Riley. You’re a great boyfriend, just not a great training partner. Because that’s what I need during training: a partner. Not an opponent.’
He looked at her then.
‘Well, why don’t you just ask Mr. Giles to be your partner, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’
‘What exactly are you trying to say here Riley?’ there was a slightly threatening note to her voice.
‘I’m saying that if you don’t think I’m good enough for you, maybe you shouldn’t be with me.’
‘I never said…!’ Buffy threw her hands up in the air. She could tell there was no point in arguing with him anymore, but she couldn’t understand how this conversation had gone so horribly wrong. She looked at him, but he wasn’t even looking at her anymore.
‘Fine’, she said. ‘Have it your way. Break up with me because your fragile ego can’t handle even the most basic constructive criticism. That’s very mature.’
With that, she walked out of the room, but not before she’d heard Riley’s retort:
‘Well, at least Mr. Giles is very mature.’
She slammed the door behind her.
******
The knock on his door came slightly later, and sounded a little louder, than usual.
‘Buffy’, he smiled when he opened the door, but his Slayer didn’t return his smile.
She walked over the far end of the apartment, where Giles had moved the couch to, to clear a space for training. They really needed a bigger training venue, he didn’t dare use quarterstaffs in his small apartment for fear of doing any more damage to it.
Buffy sat down on the couch, but she didn’t stay seated long.
‘Is everything alright?’ he asked, worried.
‘Yeah. No. I think Riley just broke up with me.’ She sounded agitated.
‘Oh Buffy, I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it? We can postpone training if you wish?’
‘No. No, thanks. I think I’d prefer to just train right now. I need to punch something.’
‘As you wish.’ He just hoped he could avoid being the thing she needed to punch.
As they began, it became clear pretty quickly that she wasn’t pulling any punches, and when Giles found himself sprawled out on his living room floor for the fourth time within in the space of three minutes, he called a halt to their training session.
‘Buffy’, he panted, ‘while I understand that you need to release your frustration on something, I fear that if we continue, I might just find myself unconscious again.’
Buffy’s eyes widened slightly. ‘God Giles, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.’ She helped him up and they walked over to the couch.
‘No need to apologise Buffy. I understand how you must be feeling. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?’
She sighed. ‘It was stupid. I don’t know how it happened. I was just going to talk to him, but then the entire conversation just got away from me and suddenly he was breaking up with me.’
‘What were you attempting to discuss with him initially?’ he asked, hoping he wasn’t prying too much, but Buffy didn’t seem to mind. She’d sat down in a corner of the couch, bringing her legs up to her body, her head resting on her knees. She stared into space when she answered.
‘About training, actually. About how training with him always ends up in a competition, and how that isn’t useful to me at all. But he took it the wrong way. Couldn’t handle a little criticism and acted like I was telling him he was weak and worthless, and just…’ She stopped and sighed. Giles carefully put his hand on her shoulder.
‘It’s alright Buffy, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Perhaps if you both just take some time to cool off, everything will work itself out.’ He really wasn’t sure if everything should work itself out, because if the boy couldn’t understand that his needs weren’t more important than Buffy’s, he wasn’t sure whether they should be together at all.
‘Thanks Giles,’ Buffy whispered, and, to his surprise, she uncurled herself enough to lean her head on his shoulder. He hesitated a little, but then moved the hand that had been resting on her shoulder around her, to her other arm, and brought his other hand up to briefly stroke her hair. They stayed like that for a while.
******
Buffy did attempt to talk to Riley again, but he’d made up his mind, and by that point, so had she. If winning during training was so important to him, and if he couldn’t even deal with Giles being in her life, she really shouldn’t be with him. It was a shame though. For a while, everything had seemed perfect: her classes were alright, she had her friends, a nice boyfriend, and was training with her Watcher again. She should’ve known better than to think it could last.
Training with Giles had only improved since she and Riley had broken up though. They were really getting into a rhythm, and Buffy found that she enjoyed just talking to him before and after training as well.
She’d never really taken the time to get to know him before, but she was making up for it now. They talked about current events, tried to get each other to listen to their favourite music (with various levels of success), and she learned a lot about Giles’ past and the kind of training Watchers have to go through. The only thing he never mentioned was his time away from the Watcher Academy, the time he had spent with Ethan and the others, the time when he’d gone by the name of Ripper.
While at first, she’d never wanted to think too much about his rebellious side, she found herself growing more and more curious, curious to know how this man could’ve raised demons, participated in orgies, and had basically been totally bad-ass in the past. Not that he wasn’t ever bad-ass anymore, but these days it was only against the bad guys, especially when the bad guys threatened her or one of the other people he cared about. She thought back to the sword that had gone straight through the Mayor, and knew she’d caught a glimpse of Ripper back there.
She wanted to know how he had managed to repress his gentle, awkward side when he was Ripper, and how he’d managed to leave ‘Ripper’ behind and had become the tweedy, stuttering version of Giles she’d met on her first day at Sunnydale High. It couldn’t be easy to reconcile those two completely different sides to himself, she figured, but she wasn’t sure how to ask him. He never brought it up himself, and she took that to mean he didn’t like to talk about it. He’d been so distressed when Eyghon had come back that she’d had to see him like that. Had wanted to keep that side hidden from her. But now that she knew, and now that they were talking regularly, she found herself wondering what a conversation with Ripper would be like. If he might give her different fighting tips than Giles did. Considering what she’d seen of Ripper, she wouldn’t be surprised if he fought dirty, and part of her really wanted to see if he might have some tips or tricks for her.
She didn’t want to be like Faith, but it couldn’t hurt to have some tricks up her sleeve for when they’d inevitably have to face each other again.
One night, during patrol, right after Giles had successfully dusted a vamp, she carefully broached the subject.
‘Nice one!’, she grinned, wiping the dust of her own recently staked vampire off her jacket. ‘I got the feeling, after meeting Wes, that you guys were never really taught in the field how to dust vamps, so where did you learn?’ There. That was nice and subtle. She just hoped it wasn’t too subtle.
Giles cocked his head. ‘Well, I guess I mostly learned after meeting you. As you may recall, I wasn’t always as, er, handy with a stake as I am today.’ He smiled self-deprecatingly.
Buffy smiled too. ‘Well, no, but you were never as awkward as Wes was. So you must have dusted some vamps before coming to Sunnydale.’ Come on, you know where I’m going with this. I know you do.
‘Ah. Well, yes. I suppose I did manage to get rid of a few vampires back when… back when I had dropped out of the Watcher Academy.’ He avoided her eyes.
‘So, that would’ve been around the time you and Ethan were still buddies. I can’t imagine Ethan being much use in a fight. He’d probably run off, or use you as a human shield.’
Giles couldn’t quite repress the smile that was tugging at his lips. ‘Yes, that is indeed an accurate description of Ethan.’
‘What about the others, were they any good with a stake?’
‘After a bit of training, they might have been. But fighting vampires was never quite our, er, priority, I suppose. Whenever we ran into one, I usually took care of it, but it wasn’t often. A lot of our, er, activities took place indoors.’
It may have been dark outside, but Buffy’s enhanced Slayer sense ensured that she could tell he was blushing. She also hadn’t heard him stammer that much in a while. She really wanted to ask more questions about the nature of those activities, but she was fairly certain he didn’t want to answer. And while she wasn’t sure she wanted details on the orgies, she wondered about what other things they might’ve gotten up to. She was trying to think of a way to wheedle it out of him, but was distracted by another vampire hiding behind a nearby crypt.
That vamp taken care of as well, Giles suggested they make their way back home, and Buffy agreed. She hadn’t forgotten what they’d been talking about previously though, but didn’t bring it up again that night. Instead, when she got home, she rummaged in her nightstand, careful not to wake Willow, until she found what she’d been looking for. Ethan’s note.
******
Giles hadn’t expected the knock on his door. It was eight o’clock, and he couldn’t think of anyone who’d come by at night, besides Buffy. But they’d agreed not to go patrolling tonight as vampire activity had been rather low, so he thought Buffy might enjoy the night off.
Expecting to find someone else, he was pleasantly surprised when he saw his Slayer standing in front of him.
‘Hi Giles’, she said happily, as she made her way in. He noticed she was carrying a grocery bag.
‘Hello Buffy’, he replied. ‘I thought we weren’t going to patrol tonight?’
‘You thought right’, she answered, setting the bag down on his kitchen counter. It made a clinking noise when it touched the hard surface.
‘So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?’ He realised that he no longer felt distrusting of her sudden appearance at his doorstep, as he surely would’ve felt just a few months ago. Whatever she was here for, he'd enjoy. He’d always liked her company.
‘I figured we should be doing some Watcher/Slayer bonding,’ she answered, ‘and since we’ve got tonight off, I thought we might just stay in and have a drink.’
He raised his eyebrows at her.
‘Okay okay, so I’m not technically 21 yet, but the guy at the liquor store didn’t seem to mind, and since you’re from the UK, I assumed you wouldn’t mind either, since I’m an adult and all.
He grinned at her, and she smiled back, while pulling a bottle of Scotch out of the bag.
‘And what made you feel the need for alcohol?’ Giles couldn’t help but wonder, considering they had enjoyed conversations together before, only accompanied by a few cups of tea, some water and some orange juice.
‘Tea is for when we train or patrol, I figured we should celebrate a night off in style.’ She shrugged. ‘Unless you don’t like Scotch.’
‘I definitely enjoy a good Scotch once in a while, I just wasn’t aware you did too.’
She pulled a bottle of coke out of the bag then, and held it up to him.
‘I’ll be mixing mine with this.’ She laughed at the look of disgust in his eyes. ‘I take it that you prefer yours neat?’
‘Yes I do’, he answered, while walking over to the cupboard to take out some glasses. He brought them over to the coffee table, while Buffy brought the Scotch and the coke.
She sat down, and poured two generous measures of Scotch in the glasses, then topped hers off with coke. She handed him his glass, and raised her own to clink with him.
‘Cheers’, she said, smiling.
‘Cheers’, he responded in kind, and he brought the glass to his lips.
******
Five glasses later, and the bottle was showing their progress. Buffy had made sure that she’d poured herself less every time, which in combination with her slayer metabolism, ensured she was barely feeling tipsy. The same could not be said for Giles, however.
Buffy smiled, amused at the sight of her intoxicated Watcher. He was telling her how he’d once, when he was a little boy, managed to make his entirely family sick with worry, when hiding in a closet in the attic with a book. He’d simply been looking for a quiet place to read, but they all thought he’d gone missing. When he’d sauntered downstairs at night, wondering why no one had called him for supper, he was greeted by many family members, all of whom immediately approached him, crying, yelling and having altogether lost the reserve that usually classified the Giles family.
His speech was slightly slurred and he was giggling an awful lot. He was nowhere near calling himself Ripper, but Buffy was relieved to find that he hadn’t turned into the depressed man she’d seen when Eyghon had made an appearance. Maybe it helped that he wasn’t drinking alone this time, or drinking to repress. He seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly, and he reached for the bottle of Scotch on the table. He’d taken off his glasses at some point, however, and he missed the bottle, almost falling off the couch.
Buffy managed to catch him just in time, and gently pushed him upright again. He giggled. ‘Oops.’
‘Let me’, Buffy replied, and she poured some of the Scotch in her own glass, pretending it emptied the bottle. The note had clearly stated five glasses of Scotch, and since she’d already given him pretty generous portions, she didn’t want to risk overdoing it.
‘Hey!’ he protested when he noticed Buffy hadn’t poured him anything.
‘Don’t worry, there’s more alcohol’, Buffy said as she got up, carried the bottle to the kitchen and got a 6 pack of Guinness from the bag on the counter. She hadn’t been entirely sure about the size of a pint, but she figured that if she just kept giving Giles these, she’d probably notice when Ripper would ‘arrive’.
She walked back to the couch, and handed him a bottle.
‘Oooh’, he uttered when he noticed the change in drinks. ‘Nice.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you liked Guinness, but I figured it was a safe bet’, Buffy smiled.
‘Yess’, he replied while he opened the bottle and took a swig. ‘Guinness’s sgood, ‘specially after Scotch.’ Buffy had no idea if it really was, or if this was just drunk talk.
Buffy took tiny sips of her own mixed drink, while Giles attempted to give her sage life advice, which was heavily inspired by the alcohol. Buffy tried to keep a straight face when he told her that the best way to do your taxes, was to turn them into a drinking game.
When Giles noticed, somewhere in the middle of his second beer, that her glass was empty, he stopped talking about how to dust a vampire while you’re drunk mid-sentence and heaved himself off of the couch.
‘Where are you going?’, Buffy asked, slightly concerned if he would manage keep on his feet.
‘Just…’ he vaguely gestured towards the kitchen, while he stumbled forward, somehow managing to stay upright. Buffy followed him with her eyes, ready to jump up and rush to his side should she need to. However, he seemed to make his way to the kitchen just fine, albeit a little slowly, and he returned with a bottle from his fridge.
‘What’s that?’ Buffy asked, studying the label.
‘Bailey’ss.’ Giles answered. ‘Thought you might like it.’
He then produced another glass, seemingly out of nowhere, which made Buffy wonder briefly just how drunk he really was. Or whether he was already at the stage where he didn’t have any qualms about freely using magic for things like this.
She took the proffered drink, impressed by his ability to pour at this stage, and decided she liked the taste of it. It was sweet and reminded her vaguely of coffee, even though it didn’t really taste like coffee. It wasn’t, however, anything she could picture Giles drinking.
‘This is good’, she said. ‘Why was it in your fridge?’
‘I thought you might like it’, he repeated, emptying his current bottle of Guinness with his left hand, and reaching for a third with his right. His coordination seemed to be improving, which didn’t make any sense to Buffy at all. She put her glass to her mouth again, only to realise it was empty. Oops.
Giles grinned and refilled it without so much as asking. She shrugged. It tasted good and she was still sober enough to pay attention to Giles’ mood. A mood that slowly, but surely, seemed to be changing. He wasn’t giggling as much now, but he was grinning at her a lot. It was different from his usual, slightly shy grin though. This was getting close to the way he’d grinned when she’d hit Ethan during the band candy incident. But it wasn’t exactly the same. He wasn’t teenaged Giles now, and his grin held something much more dangerous than a glee at seeing his old mate being beaten up by his Slayer. She just couldn’t quite put her finger on it, and the alcohol wasn’t really helping either.
There must have been more alcohol in Bailey’s than she’d realised. She was starting to feel slightly tipsy. Slayer metabolism might be good, Buffy wasn’t exactly an experienced drinker.
They had been talking continually at first, but now that Buffy was on her third glass of Bailey’s, which could be easily be considered her fifth, considering the portions Giles had poured her, there was a lull in the conversation. The silence didn’t feel awkward though, and she leaned her head back on the couch cushions.
Giles, halfway through his fourth beer, did the same, and turned towards her.
She looked at him. He was closer to her than she’d realised before, and there were only a few inches between their noses. He grinned at her.
And suddenly, with a clarity that temporarily pierced through the cloud the alcohol had woven over her brain, she realised exactly what it was that made this grin so different. There was a confidence in his eyes that he rarely showed, and that confidence was mixed with desire.
Buffy swallowed hard. Somewhere in the foggy depths of her mind, she felt she should’ve known that Ethan would want her to see this. And in even deeper, foggier parts, she had to admit that she had known. And that she’d wanted to see it.
Giles took her empty glass from her hands - when did I drink the rest of that? - and put it behind him on the table, next to his now empty bottle. He turned back to her, his face even closer to hers than before.
‘What exactly was it you wanted to celebrate tonight?’ He asked, no longer slurring his speech.
‘You know, a night off. No vampire killing tonight. Yay.’ She wasn’t sure if her inability to form complete sentences came from the alcohol, or from his proximity.
‘Yay indeed’, he smiled. It wasn’t a comforting smile at all, nope, this smile was many things: sly, cheeky, sexy, but not comforting.
Buffy had been focusing on his smile so much, she hadn’t really looked at the rest of him. When she looked up, she found his eyes piercing hers, as if he was looking right through her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was. She swallowed again, realising she was no longer in control of this game she’d started, and wondered if she ever had been. Giles wasn’t crazy, he knew what alcohol did to him, yet hadn’t objected to drinking at all.
As if reading her thoughts, Giles grinned at her. ‘You really should’ve seen this coming luv’, he said, right before his lips crashed into hers.
For a split second, Buffy’s eyes widened in shock, but the part of her that had seen it coming started to respond to his kiss, and the next thing Buffy was aware of was lying underneath Giles on his couch while he was biting her neck. She moaned.
She felt him chuckle against her neck, and she playfully punched his arm, the only part of him she could easily reach while his body pinned her to the couch. He lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at her.
‘Took you long enough’, he said, and Buffy felt confused.
He chuckled again.
‘You didn’t really think Ethan wrote that note, did you? Ethan doesn’t give a rat’s ass about my happiness. The guy turned me into a demon, for fuck’s sake.’ He was still grinning, and slowly, through the alcoholic fog, it dawned on Buffy.
‘You wrote the note?!’ She pushed him off of her, but it didn’t even wipe the grin off his face.
‘How? Why?’ She felt herself quickly sobering up. ‘Was that just some perverted way to get into my pants? How could you do that?’
Realising she was more than a little upset, Giles sighed, no longer grinning.
‘Buffy, I would never trick you to get into your pants. I had no intention of seducing you. When I wrote it, I hardly thought you’d ever let me kiss you, no matter how drunk you were, or how persuasive I was. I had no intention of ever trying to touch you. I simply wrote the note in an attempt to draw your attention to the fact that I’d been spending an awful lot of time alone. I was hoping it would at the very least guilt you into making the occasional appearance on my doorstep again. I honestly didn’t think we’d end up spending as much time together as we have, or that we’d become as close as we have.
Also, I wrote the note immediately after being returned to my own body, while getting dressed in Ethan’s hideous shirt, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, it might just have been some residual demon energy, the same kind that made me chase Maggie Walsh down the street.’
‘You chased Maggie Walsh down the street?’ Buffy wanted to say more, but she couldn’t seem to put her thoughts in order, so she left it at that.
Giles looked slightly amused, but didn’t say anything else.
During his speech he seemed to have become his old self again, which was confusing. So Buffy asked him about it.
‘What’s up with you not acting like Ripper right now?’
‘It’s not a separate personality Buffy. It’s just that, when I’ve had a particular amount of alcohol, I have less trouble letting the other side of me show. It doesn’t mean I can’t be ‘just Giles’ as well.’
‘Well, why aren’t you slurring anymore?’ Buffy was avoiding all the important questions, and she knew it, but she was too busy digesting all this new information, and also trying to distract her attention from the pleasant throbbing of the bite on her neck.
‘I’m not entirely sure, I guess after a while the alcohol simply starts affecting me in different ways’, Giles answered, studying her face. He sighed. ‘Why aren’t you asking me why I kissed you?’
******
Buffy didn’t answer, but he didn’t want to rush her. He might have just made a colossal mistake, in which case it was pertinent that he didn’t do anything to make it worse. If she truly felt he’d taken advantage of her, he wasn’t sure whether their relationship could recover from that. Whether she’d allow him to try and make it up to her, to try and prove he could be around her without thinking about wanting her. Can you, really?
He focused on her face, instead of on the voice in his head. He desperately wanted to touch her, to lift her chin with his hand, so she would look at him, and he’d be able to try to read in her eyes what it was she couldn’t say. He thought he’d become fairly good at reading her eyes, but perhaps he’d been wrong. He thought she’d been enjoying herself. Maybe giving her that third glass of Bailey’s had really been a mistake. He might have overestimated her metabolism, considering she really didn’t have much experience with drinking at all. He had. It was the reason why he seemed reasonably sober right now. He knew he wasn’t though. When sober, he had control over his thoughts and urges, but right now, they were running rampant.
It took all of his restraint not to touch her, but he had no such restraint when it came to his thoughts. In his mind’s eye, Buffy was no longer dressed and he was thrusting into her while holding her up against the wall near the stairs.
She still wasn’t talking, or looking at him, and the only thing to distract him from his thoughts was his physical arousal, something he really didn’t want to focus on either.
‘Buffy?’ he asked, softly, afraid of pushing her, but even more afraid of what he’d do without any distractions. This is why you shouldn’t drink, the rational part of his brain supplied helpfully.
Buffy looked at him, finally.
‘I’m sorry’, he said, needing to convey his feelings to her, needing to let her know that this was all his fault and he’d do everything to stop it from happening ever again. He wanted to continue speaking, but she shook her head. His face fell. If she didn’t even want to listen to his apologies, they were worse off than he’d thought.
******
Buffy noticed the look on his face, and decided action needed to be taken immediately to remove that look. So she kissed it off.
It took him a while to respond, but when he did, Buffy felt herself being pulled into his lap, and she gasped when she felt his erection. He hesitated for a brief moment, but when she kept on kissing him, he evidently realised she wasn’t going to push him away again, and he kissed her with renewed fervour.
Buffy’s thoughts had aligned somewhere right before she’d dared to look at his face again, and when she’d noticed that defeated look, it was when she’d realised how much he already seemed to regret his actions. She could only imagine how he’d feel once the alcohol would wear off, and figured it wouldn’t be good. But she’d simply shaken her head because she felt he shouldn’t be apologising. Or at least, that it shouldn’t be just him.
She’d been thinking about how she owed him an apology as well. Not really for trying to get him drunk, he’d suggested that himself in the
note, and he obviously hadn’t objected to the amount of alcohol she’d brought, but because she’d made it seem like his advances had been unwanted. They hadn’t. She’d pushed him away because the admission that the note had been his had taken her by surprise, but not because she hadn’t been enjoying herself.
And besides, if this all had been an elaborate scheme to get her into bed, he’d stopped before he’d actually succeeded. This was Giles, the smartest man she knew, and one of the kindest too, no matter by what name he went. A man also, who knew she’d seriously kick his ass if he tried anything she didn’t want to, and who valued their relationship too much to endanger it by pushing himself on her. Who wouldn’t push himself on any woman, period.
All these thoughts had been going through her head at some point after Giles’ speech, and eventually she’d come to the conclusion that she really wanted to kiss him again, and that there really were way too many thoughts currently occupying her mind. She was sure they were all important, but they could wait. She and Giles would probably need to talk about those thoughts later though. To make absolutely sure that no one blamed anyone and that they were both okay.
But not right now. So she’d kissed him, and now she was thoroughly enjoying her place in his lap. Right now, making out was good. Really good.
Right now, Giles’ hands were holding her ass, so she wouldn’t fall to the floor when he got up. Right now, Giles was moving them over to the stairs, and Buffy thought they’d head up to the bedroom, but found herself with her back to the wall instead. Which was good too.
He pushed his hips against hers and she moaned. This time though, he didn’t chuckle. He growled low in his throat and brought one hand up to her breasts. The other moved to her waist.
Talking could definitely wait.
Author: 5believers
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Timeline: Directly following the events of A New Man.
Rating: NC17 to be safe
Words: 8253 (a bit lot longer than I’d intended)
Summary: Written for drunken_giles. Prompt 19: Someone knows (or experiments to find out), exactly how much alcohol is needed to get Ripper to come out to play.
Author’s Notes: I know I didn’t actually claim any prompts, but since the comm is still open, I figured no one would mind if I claimed this one.
This fic didn’t turn out the way I intended it to at all. Buffy and Giles kinda got away from me at some point and I never quite managed to get them back to where I thought they should’ve been. Riley decided to show up as well, even though I told him not to. I don’t know how any of this happened.
Also, I’m not much of a drinker myself, so the amounts of alcohol might be way, way off. Sorry about that. I didn’t really want to call my dad to ask him just how much Scotch it would take to get him drunk.
Constructive criticism would be much appreciated, especially since this is the first fic I’ve ever really finished. (Many abandoned beginnings reside on my laptop, however.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing Buffy-related, all of that belongs to Joss and Fox and Mutant Enemy, WB and such.
The Note
Vowing to herself to spend more time with Giles, at the very least to make sure he wouldn’t go off drinking again with old buddies who then turned him into demons, Buffy started getting ready for bed. Today had been entirely too close a call, and she quickly repressed the thought of what would’ve happened if the letter opener had been pure silver. Some quality Watcher/Slayer time was definitely in order, she decided while putting away her clothes.
She turned back to her bed, when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A slip of paper lay on the ground, directly underneath her jeans, as if it had slipped out of her pocket. She frowned, picked it up and unfolded it.
Even though I’m terribly sorry it almost cost Ripper his life, I was only having a little fun with him because you weren’t. You never did understand how to make Ripper come out and play, you were all too willing to believe that he was as stuffy as the tweed he insisted on wearing. Although I have to admit that it was partly due to your neglect he agreed to grab a drink with me, so I guess I owe you a word of thanks. However, I do put some value on Ripper’s life, so be a doll, and take care of the old fellow. Five glasses of Scotch and four pints usually do the trick.
~Ethan
Buffy’s frown had increased considerably while reading, and her eyebrows shot up on the last sentence. Who the hell did Ethan think he was? And what did he even mean by that? Do what trick? Take care of… what?
Part of her wanted to crumple up the note and throw it out, but the part that had just moments earlier decided to pay more attention to Giles had other ideas. Ethan may be rude, annoying and occasionally even dangerous, he did sort of have a point. If she hadn’t been ignoring Giles so much, he’d never have gone out drinking with the sorcerer. And almost gotten himself killed. By me. Buffy shut her eyes, refusing to think about how close she’d come to taking her Watcher’s life.
She folded up the note and put it in her nightstand. She had no intention of getting Giles drunk, but she figured she could use the reminder, just in case she got distracted by Riley and forgot about her Watcher again. Her last thought before falling asleep was how Ethan could possibly have slipped that note in her pocket.
Magic. When Buffy awoke the next morning, it seemed obvious. Ethan must have used some kind of mind magic or whatever, to transport the note into her pocket. He’d probably had plenty of time to write it while enjoying the effects his spell had had on Giles. Bastard.
Normally she’d ask Willow about the possibility of it having been done by magic, but Willow would definitely want to know what was in the note, and Buffy wasn’t really sure she was willing to share it. She felt guilty about the things Ethan had said about her in the note, because she knew they were true.
Not only had she not been paying any attention to Giles lately, she’d never really bothered to look behind his stuffy exterior. Why should she? He’d chosen to wear tweed and act all prim and proper in high school, so it was only logical that that was how she viewed him. Sure, he’d shown a different side to himself when Eyghon made an appearance. And when he’d eaten the band candy. But, overall, he was bookish mister reliable, and Buffy had easily repressed all the evidence of the fact he used to go by the name of Ripper. But that was what Giles wanted too, right? Aside from the much needed info on Eyghon, he’d kept suspiciously mum about his past. And Buffy hadn’t wanted to know.
Grown-ups weren’t supposed to be persons, and they most definitely weren’t supposed to be persons that had sex with her mother on the hood of a police car. Twice. She repressed a little shudder. Nope, she really didn’t want to know what a stevedore was.
So trying to summon Ripper using alcohol seemed like a really, really bad idea. He probably wouldn’t be as impossible as he’d been while under the influence of the band candy, and not as depressed as when she’d found him drinking alone when his old friend Philip had turned up dead, but the idea of Giles and alcohol was definitely a scary one. No good would come of it, she decided, so she would keep the note to herself and try to forget about it.
Forgetting about Giles, however, was high on her list of things she shouldn’t be doing, so after breakfast she made her way over to his house.
******
After waking up after a much needed night of sleep, Giles surveyed the damage he’d done to his house during his time as a Fyarl demon. He took in the broken banister, the ruined door and the destroyed phone. He sighed.
‘Well, at least I’ll have plenty of time to get everything fixed’, he muttered, and then decided that replacing his telephone really was the first order of business. Not that anyone’s been calling me lately. He shook of the maudlin thought and went to prepare some breakfast, glad to find that most of the kitchen seemed to have come out of this adventure unscathed.
He was just about to take a bite of his toast, when he heard creaking noises coming from the wreckage of his front door. He looked up to find his Slayer tentatively pushing open the door and peeking inside.
‘Giles?’
He sighed inwardly, on the one hand happy to see her, on the other not entirely ready to deal with what would either be a pity visit, or a scolding for having gone out drinking with Ethan.
‘Hello Buffy’, is what he said. ‘Come on in.’
She gave him a small smile and tried to put the door back in place, but instead knocked it even further off its hinges.
‘Oops!’ she exclaimed, embarrassed. ‘Sorry Giles, I guess I’m better at taking doors off their hinges, than putting them back on them.’
‘That’s alright Buffy, it’s hardly your fault. I need to call someone to have it fixed anyway.’
‘Why haven’t you called them yet?’
Giles stared pointedly at the remnants of his phone.
‘Ah.’ He watched Buffy take in the state of his apartment, and waited for her to comment. A witty remark of some sort was undoubtedly forthcoming.
Her eyes found his. ‘I’m sorry’, she said softly, so softly that Giles wondered if he’d heard her right.
‘What on earth are you apologising for Buffy?’ he asked, knowing what he wanted her to apologise for, but needing her to say it.
Buffy walked over to him, but seemed to change her mind halfway, and settled on leaning against the back of the couch instead.
‘For being a crappy Slayer who’s been neglecting her Watcher.’
‘I’m not your Watcher anymore Buffy.’ He didn’t know why he said that. It was him she’d neglected, Watcher or not, and maybe he needed her to acknowledge that there was more to him than being a Watcher. Maybe he needed to hear that there was more to him than being a Watcher. Because he hadn’t been much of anything lately.
‘I don’t care what the Council says Giles. I’m the Slayer, you’re my Watcher. Period.’
He nodded, but couldn’t meet her eyes. It really had been too much to hope that she’d recognise that he was more than just a Watcher. Are you? Really? The little voice in his head was about to continue down this path of self-doubt, but his Slayer interrupted it.
‘And for not telling you about Riley being in the Initiative. And just, you know.’ She made a little movement with her hands. Ever the great communicator. He smiled just a little at that. It was something they definitely had in common.
He looked up again, and sighed. ‘It’s alright Buffy, I understand.’ He didn’t want to understand, not really, but he did. She was simply trying to enjoy herself, enjoy the college experience, which wasn’t a place where he fit in. He was the old man who constantly reminded her of her destiny, of the fighting, and the constant risk of a premature death. He couldn’t blame her for preferring a life that involved going out with her boyfriend.
She looked relieved at his words, and he felt surprised at the realisation that perhaps she hadn’t come over simply because she felt guilty about almost killing him. Perhaps she genuinely regretted her treatment of him in the past few months, in which case, there might be hope to salvage their relationship just yet. He smiled at her. ‘Would you like some tea?’
******
That afternoon Buffy got back to her dorm feeling a whole lot better. Ethan was an idiot if he felt alcohol was needed to enjoy Giles’ company. Tea worked just as well. They’d spent the whole morning talking - Ethan-bashing had been partaken in with glee by both of them - and Buffy had realised that she’d missed her Watcher.
She’d never put much thought into her relationship with Giles, a Watcher and a Slayer were pretty much forced on each other, but it was a relationship unlike any other. He wasn’t like the friends you picked, but he wasn’t exactly like the family you grew up with either. She guessed she was lucky to have gotten Giles as her Watcher, especially since none of the other Watchers she’d met or heard about seemed to be anywhere near as nice as him, if not actually evil.
Giles had felt the need to remind her that he’d been fired, but to Buffy there was no doubt about who her Watcher was. He’d stayed, hadn’t he? He could’ve gone back to England if this was just a job to him, but he’d been chosen, much as she had, and he wasn’t one to shirk his responsibilities. Well, at least grown-up Giles isn’t. Ripper was all about the shirking.
He’d stayed for her, and she’d thanked him by ignoring him. The image of Olivia in his robe sprung unbidden to her mind, but she shook it off. In hindsight, her response to finding a half-naked woman in his apartment, and a not-so-much-fully-dressed Giles as well, had been really childish. Buffy blamed it on having had a really bad day, but that wasn’t Giles’ fault. He’d shown up to help, eventually. But the damage had been done, and she’d tried to give him some privacy and to get by without him.
She thought she’d been doing fine on her own, with a little help from Riley and her friends of course, but she now knew that she’d missed Giles. Perhaps a Slayer just really needed a Watcher to stay sane. And apparently, a Watcher really needed a Slayer to stay sane and avoid getting plastered with an old evil sorcerer buddy.
So she’d told him she’d be back tomorrow night, before patrol. Which, maybe, she thought, he might want to join her on.
******
In much better spirits than he’d been in ages, Giles spent the next two days reading up on ancient prophecies, and determined there wasn’t really anything to worry about at the moment. He’d gotten a new phone, and had immediately called someone to fix his door, which was now back on its hinges and looking sturdier than it had in ages. The rest of the damage would be taken care of soon as well.
The talk with Buffy had done him good, and he was positively excited about the thought of joining her on her patrol tonight. If she wants you to join, that is. The feeling he’d gotten yesterday though, was that she wouldn’t mind if he tagged along. It had been much too long since he’d seen her slay, and the Watcher-part of him worried if she’d kept up her training and whether he should suggest they start training together again. He supposed she’d prefer to train with her boyfriend, but military training and Slayer training weren’t exactly the same thing. He’d broach the subject tonight, he decided.
When the knock at his newly restored door sounded, just before midnight, he was surprised. Buffy never knocked. He got up to open the door - a simple ‘come in!’ could have disastrous consequences in Sunnydale - and found his Slayer waiting for him on the other side. Seeing his confused look, she answered the question he hadn’t asked yet.
‘I figured I should be respecting your privacy, instead of just barging in like I owned the place. Also, I think you should lock your door more often.’
It took him by surprise. She really had matured in the time she’d spent avoiding his place, something which was actually quite remarkable for a college student. And she had a point, of course. His habit of leaving the door unlocked had really gotten out of hand, and now that the door had been fitted with a shiny new lock, perhaps it was time for him to start using it.
‘Thank you Buffy, I appreciate that.’ He gestured for her to come in. ‘And I will most certainly start locking my door, especially now that it’s back in its rightful place.’ He’d noticed her nodding approvingly, and slightly touching the hinges when she’d stepped in.
‘But I’ll tell you what, I’ll get you a key, so you’ll be able to enter in case of emergencies.’
She smiled brightly at that. ‘Thanks Giles, I’d like that.’ She was quiet for a moment, before saying: ‘So, patrol? You wanna come with?’
This time it was Giles’ turn to smile. ‘Yes Buffy, I’d love to. As long as you won’t mind me making some notes on your techniques.’
‘Nah, it’ll be just like old times, except less studying for the SATs.’ And with that, Slayer and Watcher made their way into the dark night .
******
The next few weeks passed in much the same fashion for Buffy and Giles. They’d patrol, and Giles would give her some tips which she would work on, sometimes with Riley, sometimes with Giles himself. She was surprised on the differences between training with the two men. She’d expected to like training with Riley better, because, let’s face it, if you have to get all sweaty and up-close to someone, it might as well be your boyfriend. But she always came out of these sessions slightly annoyed.
It took her a while to figure out exactly why, and when she did, she wished she hadn’t. Training with Riley wasn’t really training, it was a competition. It was always a competition. He just couldn’t stand the idea of losing to a girl, but that was what inevitably kept happening. That in itself was annoying enough, but it actually hindered her training, because instead of focusing on her moves, she ended up putting all her energy in trying to win. That wasn’t good. She needed that energy for actual fights.
Training with Giles, on the other hand, always made her feel better. He took the time to notice exactly was she was doing wrong, but also what she was doing right. And he never cared if she kicked his ass. He actually looked proud whenever she knocked him down to the floor in a neatly executed manoeuvre.
She sat down with Riley in his dorm room to talk to him about it, but didn’t go too well. Everything seemed to come out wrong, and she could tell that Riley was getting upset. She tried to explain why training with Giles was much more effective for her, but that really seemed to offend him.
‘So you’re saying that Mr. Giles is better than me?’ his tone held the middle between anger and disappointment.
‘No no, it’s not like that. It’s just that… as a Slayer, my training is different from yours. And Giles was trained to train Slayers, so, you know, that’s why I think his methods work better.’
‘So he is better than me.’
‘No! Riley! I’m just saying that whenever we train, we turn it into a competition, both of us do. But that’s not what training should be. I’m supposed to practise my moves, hone my instincts, not put all my energy into kicking your butt.’
She was really trying her best to explain this properly, but she could see in Riley’s eyes that it wasn’t working too well.
‘Yeah. Well, I guess it doesn’t take you any energy at all to kick Mr. Giles’ butt. How does that guy even train you anyway? He really isn’t in any shape to keep up with you.’
Annoyed, Buffy decided that this conversation was really going nowhere, or rather, it was going somewhere not good, and she wanted to avoid that, because aside from the training things were going really well with Riley. Or, at least, they had been going well. This wasn’t good.
‘Giles doesn’t care if I kick his butt, because he knows that I have supernatural strengths that he doesn’t have. And he’s in much better shape than you think.’
Well. That wasn’t the answer she’d intended to give. She’d planned on ending this discussion and just continue training the way they had, figuring that she could at least use her frustration with him to kick his butt even more easily. But she hadn’t, and she realised that this definitely wasn’t what Riley had wanted to hear, because he looked even more upset than before and she could see the anger welling up behind his eyes. He really did have nice eyes.
‘And how exactly do you know what shape Mr. Giles is in?’ he asked, the anger in his eyes belying the suddenly much calmer tone of his voice.
Buffy frowned, then raised her eyebrows as the implications of what he’d just said sunk in.
‘Because I train with him, Riley. We train. And he comes along on patrol and manages to hold his own against a vampire. Without any military equipment.’
She knew the last bit hadn’t been entirely necessary, but she couldn’t believe what Riley had been implying. Did he honestly believe she would cheat on him with Giles? Perhaps their relationship wasn’t in such good shape if he thought she could be unfaithful to him. And if the fact that you’re stronger than him is such a big deal to him.
Riley just shook his head, evidently too upset to speak. Buffy considered trying to explain further. And perhaps better, but she realised she was running late for her training session with Giles. That’ll go over well, she thought, but she didn’t want to stick around any longer. Riley needed to get over the fact that he wasn’t Captain America and she really needed to work out her frustrations in a nice training session with her Watcher. She got up. Riley followed her rise with his eyes.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m late for my training session with Giles.’ She'd considered lying about it, but figured that wouldn’t exactly make things better either.
‘You’re joking.’
‘Nope. I’m really running late, and since this discussion is going absolutely nowhere, I’m going to leave now.’
‘Fine.’ He stared straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. ‘Go be with him, since I’m useless to you anyway.’
Buffy rolled her eyes.
‘Enough with the pity-party Riley. You’re a great boyfriend, just not a great training partner. Because that’s what I need during training: a partner. Not an opponent.’
He looked at her then.
‘Well, why don’t you just ask Mr. Giles to be your partner, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’
‘What exactly are you trying to say here Riley?’ there was a slightly threatening note to her voice.
‘I’m saying that if you don’t think I’m good enough for you, maybe you shouldn’t be with me.’
‘I never said…!’ Buffy threw her hands up in the air. She could tell there was no point in arguing with him anymore, but she couldn’t understand how this conversation had gone so horribly wrong. She looked at him, but he wasn’t even looking at her anymore.
‘Fine’, she said. ‘Have it your way. Break up with me because your fragile ego can’t handle even the most basic constructive criticism. That’s very mature.’
With that, she walked out of the room, but not before she’d heard Riley’s retort:
‘Well, at least Mr. Giles is very mature.’
She slammed the door behind her.
******
The knock on his door came slightly later, and sounded a little louder, than usual.
‘Buffy’, he smiled when he opened the door, but his Slayer didn’t return his smile.
She walked over the far end of the apartment, where Giles had moved the couch to, to clear a space for training. They really needed a bigger training venue, he didn’t dare use quarterstaffs in his small apartment for fear of doing any more damage to it.
Buffy sat down on the couch, but she didn’t stay seated long.
‘Is everything alright?’ he asked, worried.
‘Yeah. No. I think Riley just broke up with me.’ She sounded agitated.
‘Oh Buffy, I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it? We can postpone training if you wish?’
‘No. No, thanks. I think I’d prefer to just train right now. I need to punch something.’
‘As you wish.’ He just hoped he could avoid being the thing she needed to punch.
As they began, it became clear pretty quickly that she wasn’t pulling any punches, and when Giles found himself sprawled out on his living room floor for the fourth time within in the space of three minutes, he called a halt to their training session.
‘Buffy’, he panted, ‘while I understand that you need to release your frustration on something, I fear that if we continue, I might just find myself unconscious again.’
Buffy’s eyes widened slightly. ‘God Giles, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking.’ She helped him up and they walked over to the couch.
‘No need to apologise Buffy. I understand how you must be feeling. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about what happened?’
She sighed. ‘It was stupid. I don’t know how it happened. I was just going to talk to him, but then the entire conversation just got away from me and suddenly he was breaking up with me.’
‘What were you attempting to discuss with him initially?’ he asked, hoping he wasn’t prying too much, but Buffy didn’t seem to mind. She’d sat down in a corner of the couch, bringing her legs up to her body, her head resting on her knees. She stared into space when she answered.
‘About training, actually. About how training with him always ends up in a competition, and how that isn’t useful to me at all. But he took it the wrong way. Couldn’t handle a little criticism and acted like I was telling him he was weak and worthless, and just…’ She stopped and sighed. Giles carefully put his hand on her shoulder.
‘It’s alright Buffy, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. Perhaps if you both just take some time to cool off, everything will work itself out.’ He really wasn’t sure if everything should work itself out, because if the boy couldn’t understand that his needs weren’t more important than Buffy’s, he wasn’t sure whether they should be together at all.
‘Thanks Giles,’ Buffy whispered, and, to his surprise, she uncurled herself enough to lean her head on his shoulder. He hesitated a little, but then moved the hand that had been resting on her shoulder around her, to her other arm, and brought his other hand up to briefly stroke her hair. They stayed like that for a while.
******
Buffy did attempt to talk to Riley again, but he’d made up his mind, and by that point, so had she. If winning during training was so important to him, and if he couldn’t even deal with Giles being in her life, she really shouldn’t be with him. It was a shame though. For a while, everything had seemed perfect: her classes were alright, she had her friends, a nice boyfriend, and was training with her Watcher again. She should’ve known better than to think it could last.
Training with Giles had only improved since she and Riley had broken up though. They were really getting into a rhythm, and Buffy found that she enjoyed just talking to him before and after training as well.
She’d never really taken the time to get to know him before, but she was making up for it now. They talked about current events, tried to get each other to listen to their favourite music (with various levels of success), and she learned a lot about Giles’ past and the kind of training Watchers have to go through. The only thing he never mentioned was his time away from the Watcher Academy, the time he had spent with Ethan and the others, the time when he’d gone by the name of Ripper.
While at first, she’d never wanted to think too much about his rebellious side, she found herself growing more and more curious, curious to know how this man could’ve raised demons, participated in orgies, and had basically been totally bad-ass in the past. Not that he wasn’t ever bad-ass anymore, but these days it was only against the bad guys, especially when the bad guys threatened her or one of the other people he cared about. She thought back to the sword that had gone straight through the Mayor, and knew she’d caught a glimpse of Ripper back there.
She wanted to know how he had managed to repress his gentle, awkward side when he was Ripper, and how he’d managed to leave ‘Ripper’ behind and had become the tweedy, stuttering version of Giles she’d met on her first day at Sunnydale High. It couldn’t be easy to reconcile those two completely different sides to himself, she figured, but she wasn’t sure how to ask him. He never brought it up himself, and she took that to mean he didn’t like to talk about it. He’d been so distressed when Eyghon had come back that she’d had to see him like that. Had wanted to keep that side hidden from her. But now that she knew, and now that they were talking regularly, she found herself wondering what a conversation with Ripper would be like. If he might give her different fighting tips than Giles did. Considering what she’d seen of Ripper, she wouldn’t be surprised if he fought dirty, and part of her really wanted to see if he might have some tips or tricks for her.
She didn’t want to be like Faith, but it couldn’t hurt to have some tricks up her sleeve for when they’d inevitably have to face each other again.
One night, during patrol, right after Giles had successfully dusted a vamp, she carefully broached the subject.
‘Nice one!’, she grinned, wiping the dust of her own recently staked vampire off her jacket. ‘I got the feeling, after meeting Wes, that you guys were never really taught in the field how to dust vamps, so where did you learn?’ There. That was nice and subtle. She just hoped it wasn’t too subtle.
Giles cocked his head. ‘Well, I guess I mostly learned after meeting you. As you may recall, I wasn’t always as, er, handy with a stake as I am today.’ He smiled self-deprecatingly.
Buffy smiled too. ‘Well, no, but you were never as awkward as Wes was. So you must have dusted some vamps before coming to Sunnydale.’ Come on, you know where I’m going with this. I know you do.
‘Ah. Well, yes. I suppose I did manage to get rid of a few vampires back when… back when I had dropped out of the Watcher Academy.’ He avoided her eyes.
‘So, that would’ve been around the time you and Ethan were still buddies. I can’t imagine Ethan being much use in a fight. He’d probably run off, or use you as a human shield.’
Giles couldn’t quite repress the smile that was tugging at his lips. ‘Yes, that is indeed an accurate description of Ethan.’
‘What about the others, were they any good with a stake?’
‘After a bit of training, they might have been. But fighting vampires was never quite our, er, priority, I suppose. Whenever we ran into one, I usually took care of it, but it wasn’t often. A lot of our, er, activities took place indoors.’
It may have been dark outside, but Buffy’s enhanced Slayer sense ensured that she could tell he was blushing. She also hadn’t heard him stammer that much in a while. She really wanted to ask more questions about the nature of those activities, but she was fairly certain he didn’t want to answer. And while she wasn’t sure she wanted details on the orgies, she wondered about what other things they might’ve gotten up to. She was trying to think of a way to wheedle it out of him, but was distracted by another vampire hiding behind a nearby crypt.
That vamp taken care of as well, Giles suggested they make their way back home, and Buffy agreed. She hadn’t forgotten what they’d been talking about previously though, but didn’t bring it up again that night. Instead, when she got home, she rummaged in her nightstand, careful not to wake Willow, until she found what she’d been looking for. Ethan’s note.
******
Giles hadn’t expected the knock on his door. It was eight o’clock, and he couldn’t think of anyone who’d come by at night, besides Buffy. But they’d agreed not to go patrolling tonight as vampire activity had been rather low, so he thought Buffy might enjoy the night off.
Expecting to find someone else, he was pleasantly surprised when he saw his Slayer standing in front of him.
‘Hi Giles’, she said happily, as she made her way in. He noticed she was carrying a grocery bag.
‘Hello Buffy’, he replied. ‘I thought we weren’t going to patrol tonight?’
‘You thought right’, she answered, setting the bag down on his kitchen counter. It made a clinking noise when it touched the hard surface.
‘So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?’ He realised that he no longer felt distrusting of her sudden appearance at his doorstep, as he surely would’ve felt just a few months ago. Whatever she was here for, he'd enjoy. He’d always liked her company.
‘I figured we should be doing some Watcher/Slayer bonding,’ she answered, ‘and since we’ve got tonight off, I thought we might just stay in and have a drink.’
He raised his eyebrows at her.
‘Okay okay, so I’m not technically 21 yet, but the guy at the liquor store didn’t seem to mind, and since you’re from the UK, I assumed you wouldn’t mind either, since I’m an adult and all.
He grinned at her, and she smiled back, while pulling a bottle of Scotch out of the bag.
‘And what made you feel the need for alcohol?’ Giles couldn’t help but wonder, considering they had enjoyed conversations together before, only accompanied by a few cups of tea, some water and some orange juice.
‘Tea is for when we train or patrol, I figured we should celebrate a night off in style.’ She shrugged. ‘Unless you don’t like Scotch.’
‘I definitely enjoy a good Scotch once in a while, I just wasn’t aware you did too.’
She pulled a bottle of coke out of the bag then, and held it up to him.
‘I’ll be mixing mine with this.’ She laughed at the look of disgust in his eyes. ‘I take it that you prefer yours neat?’
‘Yes I do’, he answered, while walking over to the cupboard to take out some glasses. He brought them over to the coffee table, while Buffy brought the Scotch and the coke.
She sat down, and poured two generous measures of Scotch in the glasses, then topped hers off with coke. She handed him his glass, and raised her own to clink with him.
‘Cheers’, she said, smiling.
‘Cheers’, he responded in kind, and he brought the glass to his lips.
******
Five glasses later, and the bottle was showing their progress. Buffy had made sure that she’d poured herself less every time, which in combination with her slayer metabolism, ensured she was barely feeling tipsy. The same could not be said for Giles, however.
Buffy smiled, amused at the sight of her intoxicated Watcher. He was telling her how he’d once, when he was a little boy, managed to make his entirely family sick with worry, when hiding in a closet in the attic with a book. He’d simply been looking for a quiet place to read, but they all thought he’d gone missing. When he’d sauntered downstairs at night, wondering why no one had called him for supper, he was greeted by many family members, all of whom immediately approached him, crying, yelling and having altogether lost the reserve that usually classified the Giles family.
His speech was slightly slurred and he was giggling an awful lot. He was nowhere near calling himself Ripper, but Buffy was relieved to find that he hadn’t turned into the depressed man she’d seen when Eyghon had made an appearance. Maybe it helped that he wasn’t drinking alone this time, or drinking to repress. He seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly, and he reached for the bottle of Scotch on the table. He’d taken off his glasses at some point, however, and he missed the bottle, almost falling off the couch.
Buffy managed to catch him just in time, and gently pushed him upright again. He giggled. ‘Oops.’
‘Let me’, Buffy replied, and she poured some of the Scotch in her own glass, pretending it emptied the bottle. The note had clearly stated five glasses of Scotch, and since she’d already given him pretty generous portions, she didn’t want to risk overdoing it.
‘Hey!’ he protested when he noticed Buffy hadn’t poured him anything.
‘Don’t worry, there’s more alcohol’, Buffy said as she got up, carried the bottle to the kitchen and got a 6 pack of Guinness from the bag on the counter. She hadn’t been entirely sure about the size of a pint, but she figured that if she just kept giving Giles these, she’d probably notice when Ripper would ‘arrive’.
She walked back to the couch, and handed him a bottle.
‘Oooh’, he uttered when he noticed the change in drinks. ‘Nice.’
‘I wasn’t sure if you liked Guinness, but I figured it was a safe bet’, Buffy smiled.
‘Yess’, he replied while he opened the bottle and took a swig. ‘Guinness’s sgood, ‘specially after Scotch.’ Buffy had no idea if it really was, or if this was just drunk talk.
Buffy took tiny sips of her own mixed drink, while Giles attempted to give her sage life advice, which was heavily inspired by the alcohol. Buffy tried to keep a straight face when he told her that the best way to do your taxes, was to turn them into a drinking game.
When Giles noticed, somewhere in the middle of his second beer, that her glass was empty, he stopped talking about how to dust a vampire while you’re drunk mid-sentence and heaved himself off of the couch.
‘Where are you going?’, Buffy asked, slightly concerned if he would manage keep on his feet.
‘Just…’ he vaguely gestured towards the kitchen, while he stumbled forward, somehow managing to stay upright. Buffy followed him with her eyes, ready to jump up and rush to his side should she need to. However, he seemed to make his way to the kitchen just fine, albeit a little slowly, and he returned with a bottle from his fridge.
‘What’s that?’ Buffy asked, studying the label.
‘Bailey’ss.’ Giles answered. ‘Thought you might like it.’
He then produced another glass, seemingly out of nowhere, which made Buffy wonder briefly just how drunk he really was. Or whether he was already at the stage where he didn’t have any qualms about freely using magic for things like this.
She took the proffered drink, impressed by his ability to pour at this stage, and decided she liked the taste of it. It was sweet and reminded her vaguely of coffee, even though it didn’t really taste like coffee. It wasn’t, however, anything she could picture Giles drinking.
‘This is good’, she said. ‘Why was it in your fridge?’
‘I thought you might like it’, he repeated, emptying his current bottle of Guinness with his left hand, and reaching for a third with his right. His coordination seemed to be improving, which didn’t make any sense to Buffy at all. She put her glass to her mouth again, only to realise it was empty. Oops.
Giles grinned and refilled it without so much as asking. She shrugged. It tasted good and she was still sober enough to pay attention to Giles’ mood. A mood that slowly, but surely, seemed to be changing. He wasn’t giggling as much now, but he was grinning at her a lot. It was different from his usual, slightly shy grin though. This was getting close to the way he’d grinned when she’d hit Ethan during the band candy incident. But it wasn’t exactly the same. He wasn’t teenaged Giles now, and his grin held something much more dangerous than a glee at seeing his old mate being beaten up by his Slayer. She just couldn’t quite put her finger on it, and the alcohol wasn’t really helping either.
There must have been more alcohol in Bailey’s than she’d realised. She was starting to feel slightly tipsy. Slayer metabolism might be good, Buffy wasn’t exactly an experienced drinker.
They had been talking continually at first, but now that Buffy was on her third glass of Bailey’s, which could be easily be considered her fifth, considering the portions Giles had poured her, there was a lull in the conversation. The silence didn’t feel awkward though, and she leaned her head back on the couch cushions.
Giles, halfway through his fourth beer, did the same, and turned towards her.
She looked at him. He was closer to her than she’d realised before, and there were only a few inches between their noses. He grinned at her.
And suddenly, with a clarity that temporarily pierced through the cloud the alcohol had woven over her brain, she realised exactly what it was that made this grin so different. There was a confidence in his eyes that he rarely showed, and that confidence was mixed with desire.
Buffy swallowed hard. Somewhere in the foggy depths of her mind, she felt she should’ve known that Ethan would want her to see this. And in even deeper, foggier parts, she had to admit that she had known. And that she’d wanted to see it.
Giles took her empty glass from her hands - when did I drink the rest of that? - and put it behind him on the table, next to his now empty bottle. He turned back to her, his face even closer to hers than before.
‘What exactly was it you wanted to celebrate tonight?’ He asked, no longer slurring his speech.
‘You know, a night off. No vampire killing tonight. Yay.’ She wasn’t sure if her inability to form complete sentences came from the alcohol, or from his proximity.
‘Yay indeed’, he smiled. It wasn’t a comforting smile at all, nope, this smile was many things: sly, cheeky, sexy, but not comforting.
Buffy had been focusing on his smile so much, she hadn’t really looked at the rest of him. When she looked up, she found his eyes piercing hers, as if he was looking right through her. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was. She swallowed again, realising she was no longer in control of this game she’d started, and wondered if she ever had been. Giles wasn’t crazy, he knew what alcohol did to him, yet hadn’t objected to drinking at all.
As if reading her thoughts, Giles grinned at her. ‘You really should’ve seen this coming luv’, he said, right before his lips crashed into hers.
For a split second, Buffy’s eyes widened in shock, but the part of her that had seen it coming started to respond to his kiss, and the next thing Buffy was aware of was lying underneath Giles on his couch while he was biting her neck. She moaned.
She felt him chuckle against her neck, and she playfully punched his arm, the only part of him she could easily reach while his body pinned her to the couch. He lifted himself up on his elbows and looked down at her.
‘Took you long enough’, he said, and Buffy felt confused.
He chuckled again.
‘You didn’t really think Ethan wrote that note, did you? Ethan doesn’t give a rat’s ass about my happiness. The guy turned me into a demon, for fuck’s sake.’ He was still grinning, and slowly, through the alcoholic fog, it dawned on Buffy.
‘You wrote the note?!’ She pushed him off of her, but it didn’t even wipe the grin off his face.
‘How? Why?’ She felt herself quickly sobering up. ‘Was that just some perverted way to get into my pants? How could you do that?’
Realising she was more than a little upset, Giles sighed, no longer grinning.
‘Buffy, I would never trick you to get into your pants. I had no intention of seducing you. When I wrote it, I hardly thought you’d ever let me kiss you, no matter how drunk you were, or how persuasive I was. I had no intention of ever trying to touch you. I simply wrote the note in an attempt to draw your attention to the fact that I’d been spending an awful lot of time alone. I was hoping it would at the very least guilt you into making the occasional appearance on my doorstep again. I honestly didn’t think we’d end up spending as much time together as we have, or that we’d become as close as we have.
Also, I wrote the note immediately after being returned to my own body, while getting dressed in Ethan’s hideous shirt, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course, it might just have been some residual demon energy, the same kind that made me chase Maggie Walsh down the street.’
‘You chased Maggie Walsh down the street?’ Buffy wanted to say more, but she couldn’t seem to put her thoughts in order, so she left it at that.
Giles looked slightly amused, but didn’t say anything else.
During his speech he seemed to have become his old self again, which was confusing. So Buffy asked him about it.
‘What’s up with you not acting like Ripper right now?’
‘It’s not a separate personality Buffy. It’s just that, when I’ve had a particular amount of alcohol, I have less trouble letting the other side of me show. It doesn’t mean I can’t be ‘just Giles’ as well.’
‘Well, why aren’t you slurring anymore?’ Buffy was avoiding all the important questions, and she knew it, but she was too busy digesting all this new information, and also trying to distract her attention from the pleasant throbbing of the bite on her neck.
‘I’m not entirely sure, I guess after a while the alcohol simply starts affecting me in different ways’, Giles answered, studying her face. He sighed. ‘Why aren’t you asking me why I kissed you?’
******
Buffy didn’t answer, but he didn’t want to rush her. He might have just made a colossal mistake, in which case it was pertinent that he didn’t do anything to make it worse. If she truly felt he’d taken advantage of her, he wasn’t sure whether their relationship could recover from that. Whether she’d allow him to try and make it up to her, to try and prove he could be around her without thinking about wanting her. Can you, really?
He focused on her face, instead of on the voice in his head. He desperately wanted to touch her, to lift her chin with his hand, so she would look at him, and he’d be able to try to read in her eyes what it was she couldn’t say. He thought he’d become fairly good at reading her eyes, but perhaps he’d been wrong. He thought she’d been enjoying herself. Maybe giving her that third glass of Bailey’s had really been a mistake. He might have overestimated her metabolism, considering she really didn’t have much experience with drinking at all. He had. It was the reason why he seemed reasonably sober right now. He knew he wasn’t though. When sober, he had control over his thoughts and urges, but right now, they were running rampant.
It took all of his restraint not to touch her, but he had no such restraint when it came to his thoughts. In his mind’s eye, Buffy was no longer dressed and he was thrusting into her while holding her up against the wall near the stairs.
She still wasn’t talking, or looking at him, and the only thing to distract him from his thoughts was his physical arousal, something he really didn’t want to focus on either.
‘Buffy?’ he asked, softly, afraid of pushing her, but even more afraid of what he’d do without any distractions. This is why you shouldn’t drink, the rational part of his brain supplied helpfully.
Buffy looked at him, finally.
‘I’m sorry’, he said, needing to convey his feelings to her, needing to let her know that this was all his fault and he’d do everything to stop it from happening ever again. He wanted to continue speaking, but she shook her head. His face fell. If she didn’t even want to listen to his apologies, they were worse off than he’d thought.
******
Buffy noticed the look on his face, and decided action needed to be taken immediately to remove that look. So she kissed it off.
It took him a while to respond, but when he did, Buffy felt herself being pulled into his lap, and she gasped when she felt his erection. He hesitated for a brief moment, but when she kept on kissing him, he evidently realised she wasn’t going to push him away again, and he kissed her with renewed fervour.
Buffy’s thoughts had aligned somewhere right before she’d dared to look at his face again, and when she’d noticed that defeated look, it was when she’d realised how much he already seemed to regret his actions. She could only imagine how he’d feel once the alcohol would wear off, and figured it wouldn’t be good. But she’d simply shaken her head because she felt he shouldn’t be apologising. Or at least, that it shouldn’t be just him.
She’d been thinking about how she owed him an apology as well. Not really for trying to get him drunk, he’d suggested that himself in the
note, and he obviously hadn’t objected to the amount of alcohol she’d brought, but because she’d made it seem like his advances had been unwanted. They hadn’t. She’d pushed him away because the admission that the note had been his had taken her by surprise, but not because she hadn’t been enjoying herself.
And besides, if this all had been an elaborate scheme to get her into bed, he’d stopped before he’d actually succeeded. This was Giles, the smartest man she knew, and one of the kindest too, no matter by what name he went. A man also, who knew she’d seriously kick his ass if he tried anything she didn’t want to, and who valued their relationship too much to endanger it by pushing himself on her. Who wouldn’t push himself on any woman, period.
All these thoughts had been going through her head at some point after Giles’ speech, and eventually she’d come to the conclusion that she really wanted to kiss him again, and that there really were way too many thoughts currently occupying her mind. She was sure they were all important, but they could wait. She and Giles would probably need to talk about those thoughts later though. To make absolutely sure that no one blamed anyone and that they were both okay.
But not right now. So she’d kissed him, and now she was thoroughly enjoying her place in his lap. Right now, making out was good. Really good.
Right now, Giles’ hands were holding her ass, so she wouldn’t fall to the floor when he got up. Right now, Giles was moving them over to the stairs, and Buffy thought they’d head up to the bedroom, but found herself with her back to the wall instead. Which was good too.
He pushed his hips against hers and she moaned. This time though, he didn’t chuckle. He growled low in his throat and brought one hand up to her breasts. The other moved to her waist.
Talking could definitely wait.