Forgiving and Moving Forward, FRT (1/2)
Title: Forgiving and Moving Forward
Author: Marion the Geek
Rating: FRT
Feedback: Means the world to me.
Archives: My permission is freely given, just send me a note.
Spoilers: Through issue #11 of the Season 8 comics. (But don't let that scare you away.)
For the "Every Slayer Needs Her Watcher" fic-a-thon. I wrote for Sniggs. Split into 2 parts for length.
Author’s Note: This fic was written for the allthejellies live-journal community’s “Every Slayer needs her Watcher” fic-a-thon. The pairing is Buffy/Giles. It is a romance, though it may not, at first, seem so. Special thanks to Amanda, me beta-reader.
Prompt: I wrote for Sniggs:
The request: Hank decides to visit his little girls. When or where is up to you.
Unwanted: Poetry or song quotes.
Highest rating preferred: Any
Disclaimer: This story is in no way intended as copyright infringement. BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Dark Horse Comics, et. al. I am making no profit from this work.
What you need to know to appreciate the story if you haven’t read the comics:
*~*~* SPOILER WARNING *~*~*
Dawn is currently a giant, thanks to a spell. Giles has been working with Faith, which he and Buffy had a falling out over in issue 9. Issue 11 brought up Buffy feeling she is a dangerous person to love. That’s the nutshell version. I encourage you to read the comics. They’re fun.
Forgiving and Moving Forward
by Marion the Geek
The morning of Buffy’s twenty-fourth birthday dawned just like any other. The rain clouds that had been drenching the moors for the past three days parted and the morning sun burned through the predawn fog to shine gloriously despite the January chill.
“Well, it looks like today’s disaster won’t be the weather,” Buffy muttered, sipping a strong cup of coffee on the balcony of the Scottish castle that she and Xander and fifty odd Slayers called home. Not the weather. The options only got worse from there.
Casting a last glance at the barn where her ninety foot little sister was sleeping; she headed down to the lawn to begin her morning calisthenics. As she began to warm up her muscles, honed from years slaying and also sore from the previous day’s training mission, she wondered what the day would bring.
“Good morning, ma’am,” said Satsu, coming to stand parallel with Buffy and beginning her own warm up.
“Satsu, I’ve told you like a million times… it’s just Buffy.” Satsu smiled and launched into jumping jacks without responding.
Satsu’s greeting was repeated multiple times as other young Slayers came out of the castle to join them. ‘Ma’am,” Buffy muttered under her breath. “You girls are trying to make me feel old.”
After her exercises, Buffy went upstairs to take a shower. She was still busy worrying about what kind of disaster her birthday would bring and nearly toppled Andrew when she ran into him in the hall. “Hey, Buffy,” he said. “You all right?”
“Five by… well, four, anyway,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were going to be here today. Is everything okay in Verona?”
“More fun than a Young Indiana Jones marathon,” he said. “I just stopped in to compare notes with Xander on a couple demons we encountered that were… icky to say the least. Speaking of which, have you seen him? He wasn’t in his room.”
“I haven’t this morning,” said Buffy. “He’s usually in the ops center by now, though. Try there.”
“Roger that,” said Andrew. “I’ll just go check out what new toys you guys have installed in my absence.”
“Have fun,” said Buffy. “Tell Sergeant Fury I said ‘good morning.’”
“With pleasure, my lady,” he said, giving her a little bow and a grin and making his exit.
“My lady?” Buffy mused. “I suppose it’s better than ma’am, anyway.”
After a hot shower, remarkably not cut short by the castle’s limited hot water resources and the strain put on them by the large female contingent living under it’s roof, Buffy went down to the mess hall for some breakfast. The morning rush was over and there were only two other Slayers eating quietly. She selected a blueberry scone and a piece of sausage and took her breakfast over to a corner table where she could sit by herself.
She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease her mounting tension. She wished the requisite birthday disaster would hurry up and arrive. The wait was torture. Lost in thought, she didn’t hear anyone approach. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a large hand landed gently on her shoulder.
“Good morning, Buffy,” said a voice she had definitely not expected to hear. She whirled to face her visitor. Giles stood there smiling uncertainly. He was dressed in rough trousers and a rumpled pull-over sweater, looking every bit her stalwart Watcher. In his hand was a bouquet of fresh white daisies. He held the flowers out to her. “Happy birthday.”
Her first impulse was to throw herself into his arms. It had been almost a year since they’d seen each other face to face. She knew if she did he would hold her tight and it would be warm and safe and comforting, if only for a moment. Her second impulse was to yank the flowers out of his hand and hit him with them. Repeatedly.
She split the difference. “You have some nerve showing up here unannounced,” she said blandly, crossing her arms and ignoring the proffered daisies.
The corners of his mouth twitched downward just slightly and the warmth in his eyes cooled, almost imperceptibly. “Yes, well, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.
“You didn’t,” she lied.
“I hoped to surprise you for your birthday,” he said.
“Well, I’m surprised, so congratulations on that one,” she said. She stood and carried her half-eaten breakfast toward the trashcan. He followed, leaving the daisies abandoned on the table. She did her best to pretend that he wasn’t there.
When she made it to the corridor he quickened his pace, stepping ahead of her and planting a hand on the wall to block her progress. She sighed in exasperation. “What do you want, Giles?”
“To talk to you,” he said.
She didn’t meet his eyes. “What is it this time?”
He blinked. “How do you mean?”
“What do you want me to fight?” Her eyes flashed angrily up at him. “What demon holds the world in peril? What unspeakable evil do I have to face this time? Or are you here to tell me I have to send other girls off to die?”
“There’s no demon,” he said, his face suddenly stricken.
“Well, if it’s the Master again, you can tell him twice was enough and no thank you,” she said. “It isn’t, is it?” she added as an afterthought. “Because I ground his bones and I thought we were done.”
“No, the Master hasn’t risen,” he said.
“Then what? It’s my birthday. Something bad has to happen,” she said. “And here you are; the harbinger of the apocalypses… apocalypsi… whatever. So what is it? You only show up when the world is ending.”
He dropped his hand from the wall. “I came because I miss you,” he said softly. “I’m here to… to mend fences, so to speak.”
“Oh,” she said. She scrutinized his face a moment, trying to judge his sincerity. “Okay, then. So nice to see you. Be sure and say hi to Dawn before you leave or she’ll be pissed. And you are an Englishman after all. I guarantee she can sniff out your blood.” She turned and started to walk away.
“Buffy, wait,” he called after her. “Please… can’t we talk a moment?”
“Giles, no offense, but I don’t have anything to say right now that you are going to want to hear.”
“I think we need to talk,” he tried again patiently. “I know you’re angry with me, but to be frankly honest, I don’t know why.”
“Your girl, Faith, tried to kill me and you don’t know why I’m angry?” she snapped, turning to face him.
“She wasn’t trying to kill you,” he said wearily.
“She held my head under water after tackling me out of a second story window,” she said. “You’re right. I don’t know how I could have misinterpreted that display of her obvious affection.”
“She was merely trying to prevent you from killing Lady Genevieve,” he protested.
“And speaking of people who tried to kill me,” said Buffy. “Is she working with you, too?”
“She’s dead, Buffy,” he said. “Faith killed her. She had hoped to reform the girl. When it became clear she was beyond all hope of…”
“Ah, yes, your secret mission for your new favorite Slayer,” she said. “The one you didn’t want me anywhere near.” Her expression was dark and closed. “What are you doing here, Giles? You only come to me when you have to. You call Willow just to chat. And Faith… she’s living in your flat. But not me. Never me. You walked out of my life when I needed you most. You left me four years ago, and I can’t, for the life of me, understand what you’re doing here now.”
“Buffy, I know things haven’t been right between us for some time now,” he said.
“No, they haven’t,” she said. “And you showing up with an armload of daisies isn’t likely to improve things, no matter what you may have thought.”
“They were merely a peace offering,” he said with a shrug. “I recalled that you liked daisies.”
“They don’t make up for the things you’ve done,” she said.
“At least I’m making an effort, damn it,” he said. “You could, too.”
“Give me one good reason.”
She almost wished she could take it back at the look of pain that crossed his face. He looked defeated. “No,” he murmured. “I should have known better than to come here. It was foolish of me to think we might talk things through as adults.”
He had just started to walk away from her when yelling erupted down the hall near the front door. “Where are my daughters?” shouted a distinctly male voice.
“Please, calm down sir,” said Renée. “If you tell me their names, I’m sure I can help you.”
“Who’s in charge of this place?” the man growled.
Buffy hurried toward the commotion, Giles close on her heels. She rounded a bend in the corridor and jerked to a halt. “Dad?” Giles, a few paces behind, stopped in his tracks.
“Buffy,” Hank Summers gasped.
Buffy and her father stared at each other for a moment. He took a step toward her, reaching out tentatively. She flung herself into his arms and he swept her up in a fierce hug.
He held her at arm’s length after a moment, a look of panic on his features. “Buffy, sweetheart, do you know where your sister is? I just came from Berkley. I wanted to see if she wanted to come here for a visit… surprise you for your birthday. She’s not there. No one could tell me anything except that she left in a hurry.”
“She’s all right, Daddy,” said Buffy. “She’s here.” She thought better of her father seeing her gargantuan little sister. “Er… not here, exactly. But she’s safe.”
“Where is she?” he asked, anger bleeding through his concerned tone.
Buffy bit her lip as she worked out a plausible tale. Always best to begin with a little truth. “There was this boy…”
If she’d been anyone but a Slayer his grip on her upper arms would have bruised. “If the next words out of your mouth are that my baby is pregnant…”
“God, no!” exclaimed Buffy. “She’s… just… she’s on sabbatical. Awful break-up.”
“You let her drop out of college over a boy?” Hank accused. “The college I’m paying for?”
“She’s not a dropout. She’s going back. She just needed some time.”
Hank gave his eldest a little shake. Giles took a dangerous step toward him, but he ignored the Watcher. “Dawn has a bright future ahead of her. I’m not going to let her drop out of school and throw her life away.”
Buffy detached herself from his grip. “Like me?” she asked, anger bubbling up.
“I didn’t say that,” said Hank.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Excuse me,” he said. “But I want something better for Dawn than the path you chose. You dropped out of college and moved to England with your high school librarian, for god’s sake.” He cast a meaningful look at Giles. “I don’t want to see Dawn repeat your mistakes.”
“Now, see here,” said Giles, stepping in between Buffy and her father.
“You don’t get to speak to me,” said Hank, pointing an accusing finger at Giles’ chest. “The pervert who has been shtupping my little girl since she was sixteen does not get to talk to me.”
Giles saw red, not so much for his own honor as Buffy’s. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. As it became readily apparent that her Watcher wanted nothing so much as to hit her father, Buffy gripped Giles’ arm with both hands, tugging hard to put some space between the two men.
She stepped in front of her father. “One, this is Scotland. Two, Giles doesn’t live here. Three, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You honestly expect me to believe there is nothing going on between the two of you?” Hank asked.
Buffy looked at Giles, blushing furiously, and then back at her father. “Certainly not what you think,” she said. “He’s a friend and a mentor. There has been no shtupping. And may I say… eeew.”
“Then what is it?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” said Buffy.
“Where is Dawn?”
“I’ll have her call you,” she snapped.
“Just because you screwed up your life doesn’t mean you can drag your sister down with you,” said Hank.
That one hit the mark. Buffy blinked. She sniffed and her lip quavered a little, but she did not cry.
“You have no right to speak to her that way,” said Giles. “Joyce died and Buffy did what she had to do to take care of your teenage daughter. She put her life on hold to raise your child while you were off doing god knows what. You can’t blame her when it was you who failed both your children.”
“I told you not to speak to me, old man,” said Hank, giving Giles a hard shove.
Giles smiled cruelly. “I really should thank you for the excuse,” he said, and with no further preamble, punched Hank Summers with enough force to send the man sprawling to the floor.
“Giles!” Buffy shrieked in disbelief. He gave her a hapless shrug and a half smile. Hank was on his feet half a second later. He barreled into Giles full force, knocking the wind out of him as he hit the wall. His subsequent right hook sent Giles’ glasses skidding across the floor. The next caught Giles squarely in the mouth.
Giles took another swing and sent Hank sprawling again. Buffy’s father used the wall to steady himself as he gained his footing once again.
“Stop this nonsense right now!” shouted Buffy. Hank tried to gut-check Giles, who deftly dodged. A well aimed foot and Hank tripped, hitting the floor once more.
“Who’s the old man, now?” asked Giles, grinning despite a busted lip.
“I said stop it!” Buffy shouted, stepping in between them. “Both of you.” She was ignored as the combatants circled around her to come at each other once again.
Hank tried to tackle the Watcher. Satsu, who’d just been coming in to retrieve Buffy, had to dodge out of the way as the two men tumbled past her and into a struggling heap. Taking in her friend’s flustered expression and the two grown men acting like children, she decided perhaps she should fetch Xander instead.
xxx
“Let me get this straight,” said Xander, following Satsu back to the castle. “You couldn’t lure Buffy to her surprise party because Giles is there… and he’s fighting?”
‘That’s right, sir,” said Satsu.
“Another Buffy birthday bash,” Xander muttered.
“What’s going on?” asked Dawn, leaning down to her normal sized friends.
“That’s what I’m going to find out, Dawnie,” said Xander, shoving open the front door. “Wait here.”
“Like I have a choice,” she called after him.
“Oh, hell,” he said, as Giles sent Hank crashing in his direction. Hank charged back toward Giles.
Buffy, her face red with frustration, grabbed both men by the collars of their shirts, an awkward feat for someone of her stature, and yanked them bodily apart. “Enough all ready!” she shouted.
Giles wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood tall, if bruised. Hank was using the wall for support.
“What the hell was that?” shouted Buffy. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves.” Giles’ swollen mouth cracked into a grin and he shrugged.
Hank panted. “I’ll be on my way,” he said, and hobbled out the door.
xxx
“Is Buffy all right?” Dawn called when she saw the door begin to open.
Her father limped out.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
Hank Summers looked up at his giantess of a daughter, his neck craning until he almost toppled over. “D…Dawn?” His eyes rolled back into his head.
Xander caught him before he could faint dead away. “Easy there, big guy,” he said. “Come with me. We need to talk.”
xxx
Buffy set Giles’ glasses down on the table. “You’re very lucky they’re not broken,” she said. She stepped between Giles’ knees and pressed an icepack gently to the growing bruise blossoming from beneath his left eye. She used the damp cloth in her other hand to dab the blood from his face. He watched her mildly, his expression utterly placid as she went about her ministrations.
“Stupid idiot,” she muttered.
“Me or your father?” he asked, reaching up to hold the icepack and freeing up her right hand.
“You,” she said. “I expect stupidity from him. His behavior wasn’t remarkable, hence the lack of remark.”
“Ah.”
“You were having fun back there.”
“I was defending you,” he said, his eyes feigning disbelief at her accusation.
“My ass. Like I need defending.”
His mouth slid into an easy grin. “Not usually.”
“Admit it,” she said, slapping his arm lightly. “You enjoyed that way too much.”
“I’ll admit I found a certain catharsis in it,” he said. “But he had it coming.”
“Do me a favor,” she said, dabbing his lip. “Don’t say that in front of my impressionable young Slayers. Your fight is probably all ready the talk of the castle.”
“Sorry to be a bad influence,” he said. He scrunched up his face as she prodded a particularly painful spot.
“Hold still,” she commanded. “I’m almost done.”
“What’s the prognosis, doctor?” asked Xander, coming in.
Buffy put a few extra inches between herself and her Watcher. “He’ll live,” she said. “Provided I don’t kill him for that little macho display.”
Xander grinned at Giles from an angle where Buffy couldn’t see him and mimed a one-two punch. He gave the older man a thumbs-up, causing Giles to smile involuntarily.
“When you’re done patching up the Watcher-man, you two should come out and watch some of the practice drills,” said Xander. “I’ve been seeing some pretty impressive stuff, lately.”
“We’ll be down in a few minutes,” said Buffy, applying a tiny butterfly-closure to the split in Giles’ lip. With a parting wave, Xander headed back outside. “All done,” she said, giving her Watcher a pat on the shoulder. She stepped away from him and began cleaning up the first-aid kit. “You want some Advil?”
He stood, rolling his shoulders and turning his neck experimentally. He winced as his joints creaked. “Yes, please. It would seem that despite my fun, I am getting too old for schoolyard brawls.”
Buffy chuckled lightly as she rooted through the kit for the painkiller. She passed it to him, along with a bottle of water. “Consider this payback for all those times you’ve patched me up,” she said as he took the medicine. “And Giles…”
“Hmm?” He raised his eyebrows from behind the water bottle.
Tenderly she wrapped her arms around his chest. “Thank you,” she whispered, laying her head over his heart. “For what you said.” He abandoned the water bottle to the table behind him and put his arms around his Slayer.
xxx
“So Buffy is some kind of super hero?” Hank rubbed his head vigorously. “Has she always been?”
“Since she was fifteen,” Dawn said patiently.
He pondered that for a moment. “So burning down the gym in LA?
“Vampires attacked the dance,” said Dawn.
“And living in Scotland? All these girls?”
“Into every generation a Slayer is born. One girl in all the world… at least, that’s how it used to be,” said Dawn. “We were fighting something really bad back in Sunnydale. Buffy found a weapon forged for the Slayer. And Willow did a powerful spell, activating every girl in the world who had the potential to be a Slayer.”
“Willow? That mousy little friend of Buffy’s from high school?” Hank looked incredulous.
“She’s one major league Wicca now, Dad,” said Dawn. “Anyway, once Sunnydale sunk, we knew we had to find the Slayers. There are several squads around the world. About five hundred Slayers on the payroll. There’s more out there. We always seem to be finding new ones. Buffy runs most of the operation from here.”
Hank let out a slow breath. He was still processing all of this new information. “And this Mr. Giles?”
Dawn sighed. They’d been over this part a couple of times now. “Giles is Buffy’s Watcher. His duty has always been to train and council the Slayer. Of course, there are more Slayers than Watchers at the moment.”
“And you’re big because of a spell?”
“Either that, or the vegetables in the dinning hall at Berkley were mighty good,” said Dawn.
Hank looked as though he were considering that possibility. “That was a joke, Dad,” she said. “It was a spell.”
“I’m having trouble telling,” he said. “Magic is real. One of my daughters is head of a multinational organization, aside from being a super hero. And my other daughter is…”
“Super-sized?” she supplied helpfully. “Don’t worry. Willow and the others are working on a counter spell.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” he said. “Did your mother know?”
“Not at first,” said Dawn. “She had trouble coping when she found out. It’s part of why Buffy ran away.”
“She’s coming,” called Satsu, jogging down the hill that separated the gathered Slayers from their leader’s view.
“Ooh,” said Dawn, clasping her hands together eagerly. “Party time. I’m glad you’re here, Dad.”
“Me, too,” said Hank.
Andrew and Renée each took one end of a banner, unfurling it. ‘Happy Birthday, Buffy’ had been artfully scrawled across it, along with dozens of hand written notes and little drawings from the gathered Slayers. A few girls were filling bowls with chips and snacks on tables they’d set up for the occasion.
“Am I late?” asked Willow, appearing out of nowhere.
“She’s coming now,” said Xander, giving his friend a hug.
They all watched and waited for Buffy to reach the top of the hill. When she did, she wasn’t facing them. She was walking backwards to better taunt her Watcher. “Slowpoke,” she called down to him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Hurry up, Giles. They’ll be finished before we get there.”
He reached her a moment later and smiled at what he saw. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to face the crowd. “Surprise,” roared the assembled Slayers and their friends.
“Did you know about this?” Buffy asked Giles softly.
“No, I didn’t,” he said. “It looks as though most everyone is here.”
“And it looks as though they put every candle in Scotland on my cake, the little pyros,” said Buffy. Indeed, there appeared to be well more than twenty-four and of varying sizes and colors. “We better get down there before they set the moors ablaze.” They hurried down to join their friends.
xxx
During the party, Buffy’s father saw her sitting by herself, watching the festivities. “Are you having a good time?” he asked.
“I am,” she said. “But I wish they wouldn’t go to all the trouble.”
“They love you, Buffy,” he said. He put his hands in his pockets self-consciously. “And so do I, sweetheart.”
“I know, Dad,” she said. “I get why you were so freaked out. And I love you, too.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you?” he asked.
“Today? Not much,” she said. “At any given moment… maybe a four. Used to be higher, but there wasn’t any point in that.”
He nodded, seeming to accept that. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he said. “I didn’t come here to fight. With you or your friends.”
“Apology accepted,” she said, giving her father a hug.
xxx
It was early evening and the party was wrapping up. Most of the Slayers had left to train or go on about their business. Willow had said her goodbyes before teleporting back to her current mission in Barcelos, Brazil. Renée, Dawn, and Andrew were having a rollicking conversation involving the latest in a comic book series.
Giles found Buffy alone, sitting under a fir tree. “Have you seen Xander?” he asked, settling himself on the brown winter grass beside her.
“I think he went up to the ops center to check on things,” she said. “Are you making the goodbye rounds?”
“I was actually going to see if he could set me up with a bed for the night,” said Giles. “I don’t really fancy driving all the way back to Bath in the dark.”
“So you aren’t leaving, then?” She wasn’t looking at him and he found her expression inscrutable.
“Not tonight,” he said. “That is… if I’m not a bother.”
She didn’t respond. The far away look in her eyes concerned him. He’d been watching her all afternoon. Despite the party in her honor, she seemed to be on the outside looking in at the fun going on around her. “Buffy, what’s wrong?”
She seemed startled by the question. She looked over at him awkwardly. “Nothing,” she said. “Best Buffy Birthday ever. My dad showed and you don’t seem to have any signs of becoming a demon. Everything’s swell.”
He frowned. “Then why do you look so sad?”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled broadly in what she knew wasn’t a convincing manner. “Me? Sad? I’m as happy as a clam.” She quirked her mouth to the side. “You know, I never got that expression. Are clams happy? I’m as happy as…” She paused, trying to think of something unequivocally happy. “As… a really happy clam,” she finished lamely. She hauled herself to her feet.
Giles didn’t look convinced. He stood as well, studying her thoughtfully. He reached out to touch her face. She stepped back in a not unobvious dodge. “Don’t,” she said softly.
He looked hurt. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t press the issue, Giles,” she said. “You’re stubborn. You’ll keep at it until I tell you what a mess I am inside. But you’ll still be gone in the morning.” She turned to walk away but he caught her arm.
“Buffy, please. Tell me what is going on,” he pleaded.
She sighed, resigned. “I can’t feel the connection,” she murmured. “I unleashed the power of the Slayer so no girl would ever have to fight alone again, but I feel more alone than ever.”
“You’re not alone, Buffy,” he said.
“Everyone leaves,” she said sadly. “One by one, I drive them away. Friends, family, it doesn’t matter. They all figure it out eventually. There’s something wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said vehemently.
“Around me, then,” she snapped. “Semantics, Giles. They still leave. You did.”
That stung like a blow. “Buffy, you didn’t drive me away,” he said, stunned.
She laughed bitterly. “That’s not what you said when you left,” she said.
“I said I was holding you back,” he said. “I was, Buffy. You wouldn’t stand on your own two feet with me there.”
“I rest my case,” she said.
He sighed exasperatedly. “That wasn’t the only reason I left,” he said. “It was about me, not you. I am sorry I hurt you, but I had to go.”
“What were they?”
“What were what?”
“Don’t play coy,” she growled. “These mysterious other reasons why you left. What were they?”
His expression grew closed. “It’s personal, Buffy,” he said.
“Now that’s a cop out answer if I ever heard one,” she said. She turned to go, jerking her arm from his grip. “I knew better than to get into this conversation in the first place.”
Behind her anger she looked so lost, so quietly miserable. He frowned and swallowed convulsively, trying to mentally talk himself out of what he had just resolved to do.
“Do you really want to know why I left?” he asked; his voice flat with forced calm. His heart was beating a staccato against his sternum. He could feel the blood pumping hard in his veins.
She turned back, eyeing him warily. “I’m listening.”
“If you want to know, then come here,” he said. She stomped impatiently back to him, stopping with about three feet between them. She put her hands on her hips and waited.
He stepped toward her, closing the distance. He caressed her face gently, looking directly into her eyes.
What she saw reflected in his surprised her beyond belief. She let out a little gasp as he leaned closer. She knew what he was going to do before he did it. Giles moved with deliberate slowness, giving her every opportunity to put a stop to it. She was, perhaps, too surprised to move.
His lips touched hers, softly at first, then more insistently. He never took his eyes from hers, his gaze so intense that it frightened her. He stepped back, watching, waiting for her reaction.
She stood motionless. All at once she covered her mouth with her hand and turned away. Whatever miniscule hopes he’d invested in his little stunt crashed and burned.
“Buffy…”
She took off at a dead run for the castle.
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