Even in the darkness... (Part 2/?)
What: BtVS fanfic
Title: Even in the darkness...
Written for: Summer of Giles 2015
Pairing: Buffy/mystery man named Reg
Rating: PG/FRT (sexual content)
Word Count: 1115
Setting: Post season 8.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the BtVS universe and no one pays me for my fan fiction either (sadly).
Note: Alternate Universe (AU)
Summary: Giles is dead. Killed by Angelus in the comics. Buffy is still grieving months later. To distract herself she went to a bar, then ended up inviting a stranger in after he walked her home. AU.
“There is something about this bird,” Reg thought to himself, realizing how much he liked Buffy, even though they’d just met. He felt drawn to her in a way he’d never experienced before.
He was very thankful she’d invited him in, because he really didn’t now where else he was going to go. Now he didn’t have to worry about it. At least until she kicked him out. Which was inevitable. He was bad news. And he really didn’t belong here.
Also, he didn’t know when the portal would re-open back into his own dimension and he’d have to leave. He was surprised that the thought of going back home actually irked him this time. He liked this dimension, and this strange girl he’d met here.
Messing around with magicks with the other degenerates - a.k.a. his best mates - sometimes involved one of them adventuring into another dimension. They’d all open a portal together and one of them would go through, then the others would bring the adventurer back. Usually he was in on the plan though. This time, Reg was taken by surprise and pulled into the portal rather than walking in willingly. And his friends were nowhere in sight when it happened.
It was a stupid, reckless game they played - which is why he loved it! Sometimes he’d end up in a monstrous place, fighting for his life until they re-opened the portal so he could escape back home.
This time, he’d ended up in a lovely situation that he wasn’t so eager to escape from - he had a decent buzz on (god but he loved gin!), and he was alone with a gorgeous girl who’d just gone into the loo. “Sorry to disappoint you Ethan,” he thought to himself as he checked his breath, and tried to get a glimpse of his reflection on the microwave door in case he needed to fix his hair. He knew his best frenemy was at least partially behind this - he had smelled his signature scent in the magicks when he'd been pulled into the portal.
The bathroom door opened then, and Reg spun away from the microwave to face Buffy, acting nonchalant. For her part, Buffy stumbled a little as she exited the bathroom, giggling at her tipsiness. Then she walked up to Reg with a frown on her pretty face and tapped a finger against his chest, “You know, I just can’t figure out why I like you so much?”
Relieved, he grinned and pulled her to him saying, “Well, the feeling is mutual.” They gazed into each other’s eyes for a time, and a strange sense of timelessness settled around them. His standard cocky grin faltered, and he reached up to gently move some stray hair out of Buffy’s face.
When they kissed, it wasn’t the slobbery drunken fumbling he had expected - what he was used to when he went home from a bar with a stranger. One night stands were almost always fun, but the sex was also usually fast, and awkward, and clumsy. When he kissed Buffy, it was slow and tender and deep, and he didn’t feel particularly intoxicated - at least not from the booze.
She turned the lights out and led him to the bed. Every touch between them was gentle, but sure, as if they’d known each other intimately for years. The passion that burned between them was the contained intensity of hot coals rather than the initial dancing flames of a newly lit fire.
Her tongue found his. She tasted so sweet. Her hair was like silk in his fingers. Her body was so soft and so firm. They slowly undressed each other, the gentle kisses and caresses moving to cover every inch of the other’s nakedness.
He suddenly remembered a sculpture he’d seen called “The Lovers” and felt a kinship with the art that had mesmerized him - it had fascinated him with its alien-ness at the time, but now he understood. The lovers.
When he penetrated her it was like their bodies had been made for one another. Their movements were so fluid, like a choreographed dance. He’d never been satisfied by anything less than rough and tumble sex in the past, wham bam and thank you for the bruises. And scratches. And sometimes for the s.t.i.
With Buffy, every movement was so tender - he didn’t even know he was capable of such tenderness, and yet he’d never been so aroused.
They moved slowly and rhythmically together, sighing with pleasure, perspiring yet not feeling the effort. They came together, and her soft sighs of pleasure in his ear intensified his experience into an exstacy like he'd never known. The drugs and magicks he used had nothing on this.
Satisfied, they adjusted their bodies in the bed, lying on their sides and facing each other. They stared in to each other’s eyes, still gently caressing each other’s skin, until they fell asleep.
He awoke to bright sunlight streaming in the window through the light wispy curtains. Buffy was curled up against his chest. He listened to her even breathing, noticing how the rhythm of it changed as she transitioned from asleep to awake. She lifted her head to look at him. They both smiled, expecting awkwardness, but not feeling any.
Buffy pushed herself up needing to go to the bathroom. As she did, Reg noticed something he hadn’t seen in the dark - a small tattoo on her chest, over her heart - that said "Giles". Surprised, he stiffened, and not in the fun way.
Feeling the change in his body, Buffy tilted her head and asked, bewildered, “What’s wrong?”
“Giles.” He said, touching her tattoo. “Why do you have this?” he asked softly, feeling an odd trepidation.
Her eyes immediately became shiny with tears. Her hand moved to her heart protectively. “It’s... a person I loved… he died… he was killed.” It was still difficult for her to say it. Reg could tell she was telling the truth, she was so raw. He relaxed a bit, and stroked her cheek to comfort her.
“Strange,” he said. “Giles is my last name. It freaked me out for a second.” He laughed softly.
“Your name is Reg Giles?” Buffy said, astonished. “Weird. Are you related to Rupert Giles?”
He stiffened again and this time pulled away from her. He was now totally freaked out. “I’m Rupert Giles,” he said.
“What are you playing at?” Buffy was feeling freaked now too, and also angry. “Don’t play games with me. Not about this. You said your name was Reg.” Her voice had a dangerous edge to it.
“My friends call me Reg. Those are my initials. Rupert Edmund Giles.”
End of part 2
Part 1
(back to Summer of Giles 2015)
Check out Ain't No Sunshine, a Giles/Faith BTVS fanfic series.
Title: Even in the darkness...
Written for: Summer of Giles 2015
Pairing: Buffy/mystery man named Reg
Rating: PG/FRT (sexual content)
Word Count: 1115
Setting: Post season 8.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the BtVS universe and no one pays me for my fan fiction either (sadly).
Note: Alternate Universe (AU)
Summary: Giles is dead. Killed by Angelus in the comics. Buffy is still grieving months later. To distract herself she went to a bar, then ended up inviting a stranger in after he walked her home. AU.
“There is something about this bird,” Reg thought to himself, realizing how much he liked Buffy, even though they’d just met. He felt drawn to her in a way he’d never experienced before.
He was very thankful she’d invited him in, because he really didn’t now where else he was going to go. Now he didn’t have to worry about it. At least until she kicked him out. Which was inevitable. He was bad news. And he really didn’t belong here.
Also, he didn’t know when the portal would re-open back into his own dimension and he’d have to leave. He was surprised that the thought of going back home actually irked him this time. He liked this dimension, and this strange girl he’d met here.
Messing around with magicks with the other degenerates - a.k.a. his best mates - sometimes involved one of them adventuring into another dimension. They’d all open a portal together and one of them would go through, then the others would bring the adventurer back. Usually he was in on the plan though. This time, Reg was taken by surprise and pulled into the portal rather than walking in willingly. And his friends were nowhere in sight when it happened.
It was a stupid, reckless game they played - which is why he loved it! Sometimes he’d end up in a monstrous place, fighting for his life until they re-opened the portal so he could escape back home.
This time, he’d ended up in a lovely situation that he wasn’t so eager to escape from - he had a decent buzz on (god but he loved gin!), and he was alone with a gorgeous girl who’d just gone into the loo. “Sorry to disappoint you Ethan,” he thought to himself as he checked his breath, and tried to get a glimpse of his reflection on the microwave door in case he needed to fix his hair. He knew his best frenemy was at least partially behind this - he had smelled his signature scent in the magicks when he'd been pulled into the portal.
The bathroom door opened then, and Reg spun away from the microwave to face Buffy, acting nonchalant. For her part, Buffy stumbled a little as she exited the bathroom, giggling at her tipsiness. Then she walked up to Reg with a frown on her pretty face and tapped a finger against his chest, “You know, I just can’t figure out why I like you so much?”
Relieved, he grinned and pulled her to him saying, “Well, the feeling is mutual.” They gazed into each other’s eyes for a time, and a strange sense of timelessness settled around them. His standard cocky grin faltered, and he reached up to gently move some stray hair out of Buffy’s face.
When they kissed, it wasn’t the slobbery drunken fumbling he had expected - what he was used to when he went home from a bar with a stranger. One night stands were almost always fun, but the sex was also usually fast, and awkward, and clumsy. When he kissed Buffy, it was slow and tender and deep, and he didn’t feel particularly intoxicated - at least not from the booze.
She turned the lights out and led him to the bed. Every touch between them was gentle, but sure, as if they’d known each other intimately for years. The passion that burned between them was the contained intensity of hot coals rather than the initial dancing flames of a newly lit fire.
Her tongue found his. She tasted so sweet. Her hair was like silk in his fingers. Her body was so soft and so firm. They slowly undressed each other, the gentle kisses and caresses moving to cover every inch of the other’s nakedness.
He suddenly remembered a sculpture he’d seen called “The Lovers” and felt a kinship with the art that had mesmerized him - it had fascinated him with its alien-ness at the time, but now he understood. The lovers.
When he penetrated her it was like their bodies had been made for one another. Their movements were so fluid, like a choreographed dance. He’d never been satisfied by anything less than rough and tumble sex in the past, wham bam and thank you for the bruises. And scratches. And sometimes for the s.t.i.
With Buffy, every movement was so tender - he didn’t even know he was capable of such tenderness, and yet he’d never been so aroused.
They moved slowly and rhythmically together, sighing with pleasure, perspiring yet not feeling the effort. They came together, and her soft sighs of pleasure in his ear intensified his experience into an exstacy like he'd never known. The drugs and magicks he used had nothing on this.
Satisfied, they adjusted their bodies in the bed, lying on their sides and facing each other. They stared in to each other’s eyes, still gently caressing each other’s skin, until they fell asleep.
He awoke to bright sunlight streaming in the window through the light wispy curtains. Buffy was curled up against his chest. He listened to her even breathing, noticing how the rhythm of it changed as she transitioned from asleep to awake. She lifted her head to look at him. They both smiled, expecting awkwardness, but not feeling any.
Buffy pushed herself up needing to go to the bathroom. As she did, Reg noticed something he hadn’t seen in the dark - a small tattoo on her chest, over her heart - that said "Giles". Surprised, he stiffened, and not in the fun way.
Feeling the change in his body, Buffy tilted her head and asked, bewildered, “What’s wrong?”
“Giles.” He said, touching her tattoo. “Why do you have this?” he asked softly, feeling an odd trepidation.
Her eyes immediately became shiny with tears. Her hand moved to her heart protectively. “It’s... a person I loved… he died… he was killed.” It was still difficult for her to say it. Reg could tell she was telling the truth, she was so raw. He relaxed a bit, and stroked her cheek to comfort her.
“Strange,” he said. “Giles is my last name. It freaked me out for a second.” He laughed softly.
“Your name is Reg Giles?” Buffy said, astonished. “Weird. Are you related to Rupert Giles?”
He stiffened again and this time pulled away from her. He was now totally freaked out. “I’m Rupert Giles,” he said.
“What are you playing at?” Buffy was feeling freaked now too, and also angry. “Don’t play games with me. Not about this. You said your name was Reg.” Her voice had a dangerous edge to it.
“My friends call me Reg. Those are my initials. Rupert Edmund Giles.”
End of part 2
Part 1
(back to Summer of Giles 2015)
Check out Ain't No Sunshine, a Giles/Faith BTVS fanfic series.