Bookends: Public Displays of Affection
Title: Public Displays of Affection
Author: il_mio_capitano
Rating: 15+
Characters Buffy, Giles Post Chosen. Giles has a new life. Buffy won't let go.
Length 1750
There's still life in this series yet...
Series: Bookends. All the Companion pieces in the series are listed here... It might not make much sense on its own.
Sir Stuart and Lady Sophie’s garden parties were rightly the stuff of horticultural and catering legend. For the past ten years, as summer began to fade, their parties had become the fashionable precursor to the next academic year. As staff returned from vacation and research projects, they were welcomed back to enjoy the college Master’s immaculate lawns and flower beds, along with Lady Sophie’s latest reclamation project of the wilderness that was the surrounding six acres. She had wisely left the large trees that bordered the ground untouched - wisely because their shadows cast outwards from the garden and their size seemed to help capture a microclimate of pleasing warmth and humidity. The food on offer at such functions was excellent too and even though Buffy and Giles had arrived a little late for the formal lunch, there were still plenty of hot and cold tray options to tempt them. Buffy’s face had certainly lit up at the prospect even if Giles had merely shrugged his indifference and continued to cast a watchful look around the other guests.
Quite a few eyes had followed their entrance as Giles had guided her arm confidently towards the buffet trollies. There was a buzz and chatter to the conversations that Buffy didn’t need Slayer hearing to pick up on. She took a plate and fork eagerly. The barbeque ribs looked excellent, but Buffy chose sartorial caution in the form of an unfussy salad and quiche. Giles had told her to pack her best summer dress and though she hadn't really expected he'd actually go through with it and display the two of them in public as a couple, she'd yielded to temptation and bought a simple yet elegant silk print from a little shop in Paris. With killer shoes and a clutch purse she looked frankly fabulous and didn’t want food stains to spoil the effect.
She'd tried to strike a positive message of ‘you need to take me somewhere in this dress’. Though the way Giles had cleared his throat for the five minutes and ducked to the kitchen for a glass of water, she realised the message she was giving him was getting conflicted and possibly not at all conducive to her aim to get him out of the house. That wouldn't have been too bad a thing actually as she hated being billeted in the spare single bed and the lack of contact was frustrating. But just as she was warming to the possibilities of staying in, Giles' throat clearing trick had evidently paid off because he'd returned with his keys and swiftly headed out to collect the car from its secure parking lot.
She leant forward to reach the potato salad, conscious he was watching the way her dress glided to match her movements. They both knew they were the topic of a dozen hushed conversations around them yet Giles smiled at her with a great deal of desire. She opted to tease him in return.
“Aren't you eating, Giles?”
He picked up an empty plate and moved very close to her side, brushing the silk at her hips with the side of his hand.
“What do you recommend I try?”
There was absolutely no good answer to that that wasn't going to end in difficult to remove grass stains, but Buffy was saved by the approach of their host and hostess.
“Ah Rupert and Buffy,” Lady Sophie beamed. “So pleased you could come.”
Giles snorted and Buffy elbowed him in the ribs before he could say anything inappropriate.
Their hosts were older than Giles and of that thin distinguished stock that was bred for both brains and longevity. She’d been ‘something in the city’, he had pursued an interest in Chemistry that had found him a knighthood, some patent royalties and a happy return to academia and there were children and small grandchildren, all of whom sat a horse well.
“Ah, Giles. Just the man I wanted to see”, Sir Stuart began. “And er…?”
“Buffy.” His wife prompted. “You remember, dear? We met at the Chancellery Ball in London.”
The Master seemed surprised and scrutinised his young guest keenly.
“I was wearing a pale blue gown and half a garbage truck,” Buffy added as a helpful reminder.
“Yes,” he finally agreed and beamed. “And Giles here was wearing the other half. Yes, you made a lasting impression on a good many people that night, my dear.” He reached for her hand and smiled warmly. “Yes.” He looked at Giles and back to Buffy. “You explain rather a lot.”
“Down, tiger,” his wife interjected in amusement. “We are both delighted you could come today. We don’t see nearly enough of Rupert.”
“It’s great to be here. You have a beautiful home,” Buffy said politely.
“Anyway, Giles, as you are here,” Sir Stuart switched his entire focus away from Buffy with admirable speed. “Do you have your key for the Preceptor's rooms with you? Can I have it please?” Giles dug in his pocket and separated a key from his ring. “Ah good. One less to worry about.” The Master took it from him and pocketed it himself. “The locks are being changed. We had a break-in last night,” he explained. “ Well, they used one of the keys but it still counts as a break-in. Junior Undergraduates I daresay. They built a contraption of sheets and books and some sort of pulley system to frighten the first member of staff in the door.”
Buffy asked, “Did it work?”
Sir Stuart looked at her with playful seriousness. “Dr Foster is made of sterner stuff, I assure you. Though he wasn’t amused. In fact now he’s got a bee in his bonnet that one of the books from the German collection we keep locked at the back is missing too.” He produced his glasses and a slip of paper and read the rather long name out loud. “Sounds quite the page turner doesn’t it?”
“Is it valuable?” asked Lady Sophie.
He considered his answer for a moment. “Not commercially. Foster says it’s the only one of its kind apparently. I personally doubt it's a rollicking read for anyone with a name like that. He’s doing a full inventory but this is the only one he's missed so far.”
Buffy joined the questioning. “And it was definitely taken last night?”
“Oh, who can say. Foster was in there yesterday, but he can’t remember if the book was there or not. No-one else has probably ever noticed the thing exists.”
“Enterprising undergraduates,” Giles said and grunted. “I expect we'll get a ransom demand for a couple of quid to go to Student Welfare fund. It sounds like a stunt of that sort. Harmless.”
“Yes, most likely,” Sir Stuart concurred. “Annoying all the same. Well I need to gather up keys. See if anyone has lost theirs or lent it out.” Their hosts made to move away and mingle, but the Master turned at the last minute. “I don't suppose you were out and about last night were you, Giles?”
Buffy thought he used an odd tone in his question and he had a rather piecing look that probably frightened miscreant students into full confessions.
“Sorry no.” Giles put his hand round Buffy's waist affectionately. “We stayed in didn't we, Buffy?”
She smiled and nodded. It was true in the sense that neither of them had left the house though mostly she’d been frustrated as they’d watched TV in silence.
“Pity. You might have seen something if you were out late near the college.” Sir Stuart took Buffy’s hand briefly for a farewell and headed for a group of colleagues near the box hedging.
Giles own hand left Buffy’s waist as soon as the older couple turned their backs. His focus shifted to the pastries and sandwiches from the buffet trolley and he began to add them to his plate with business-like efficiency. By contrast, Buffy had lost her appetite.
“Should we be worried about this book?” she asked. “I could get Willow to work the mojo and track it down for them.”
Giles took a fistful of green salad. “Oh do leave it. It's not important.”
Buffy whispered, “But what if there’s something special about this book? What's it about?”
“I don't know,” he said firmly. “Much as I hate to spoil your image of me, there are quite a lot of books in the world of which I have no knowledge. This one will turn up innocently.”
“And you call yourself a Watcher.” It was a mistake. She’d said it playfully and without thinking but his slammed plate told her she’d overstepped a mark.
“Not anymore. Not now.” He threw his fork down and it clattered noisily. “Not everything concerns you and your need to make dusty friends with the undead, Buffy, so drop it.” And he stalked off angrily back to the house, leaving Buffy by the food trollies and the sole centre of wagging tongues.
Damn, she thought. It was a sudden and harsh response to an innocent joke, but she didn’t like seeing him that way. With grim humour she recognised she stood zero chance of sleeping anywhere other than that hateful single bed, knock out Parisian dress or not. But that was not the point, she told herself. That was not why she visited him. She was supposed to be helping him adjust not triggering his anger with painful reminders.
“Is everything alright?”
Buffy looked up and into the concerned eyes of Lady Sophie.
“Yes, I just can’t decide what to eat,” she lied but her hostess made no attempt to indulge her in it.
“He probably just needs to get away for a while. It’s been an upheaval for him.” She put a supporting hand on Buffy’s arm. “Why don’t you take him somewhere nice and relaxing for the week?”
Buffy appreciated the kind words and gesture but the suggestion was hardly practical.
“I can’t. Term is starting,” she explained.
“Yes you can. Stuart has just granted his leave of absence request.”
“His leave of absence request?”
“Yes, Stuart has been sitting on it for a few weeks but has agreed now after meeting you. It seems you are a good influence on our Rupert.” Lady Sophie looked at Buffy’s blank face and hastily realised her mistake. “Oh, maybe that was supposed to be a surprise? I’m so sorry. Rupert hasn't said anything about it has he?”
“No.” Buffy managed a steely smile. “No. I guess he just wants to keep surprising me.”