Ficlet, Giles/Olivia
Wrote this for the Drunken Giles Ficathon, where there's a number of interesting prompts. I'm only claiming the ones I've actually got something written for, though.
Prompt: 43. Giles/Olivia, he's going back to Sunnydale. A farewell drink, bitter, sweet or terrified as you please.
Title: Unsaid
Rating: G
She leans over, topping off his glass of red wine, and lifts her own in one dark, slender hand.
“A return, then,” she says, her voice husky with disappointment. He knows he's had more wine than dinner, but that's been the case for quite some time now, really.
“I...need to go,” he says, and the words he heard less than two hours ago are still ringing in his head. It's wonderful, horrible, impossible news, and he needs to see her with his own eyes. But even with what she's seen, he knows better than to tell Olivia the details.
She sips her wine, her mouth pulled tight and her eyes distant. He swallows more wine to prevent something foolish from tripping off his tongue, like it's not that bad or you could come with me. She wouldn't. She only drops by now because he has assured her that he's pretty well out of the supernatural, though she has never forgiven him for the shattering of a treasured illusion.
“Will you be back?” she asks, and he takes another mouthful of pungent wine, more than he really needs.
“Maybe,” he says. “I've got the flat....”
Olivia meets his eyes once, and he swallows words he wishes he could say. She finishes her wine. “When do you leave?”
“Monday. I don't know how long I'll be.”
She studies the way the light flinches off her wineglass, and sets it aside. “I'm just drunk enough for a little goodbye,” she says, and leans her head on his shoulder. “Are you?”
He can feel the smile stretching his mouth. “I'll try,” he says. Part of him wants to apologize, but then she kisses him, and the thought flies out of his mind, chased out by the fruity sharp taste of red grapes.
Prompt: 43. Giles/Olivia, he's going back to Sunnydale. A farewell drink, bitter, sweet or terrified as you please.
Title: Unsaid
Rating: G
She leans over, topping off his glass of red wine, and lifts her own in one dark, slender hand.
“A return, then,” she says, her voice husky with disappointment. He knows he's had more wine than dinner, but that's been the case for quite some time now, really.
“I...need to go,” he says, and the words he heard less than two hours ago are still ringing in his head. It's wonderful, horrible, impossible news, and he needs to see her with his own eyes. But even with what she's seen, he knows better than to tell Olivia the details.
She sips her wine, her mouth pulled tight and her eyes distant. He swallows more wine to prevent something foolish from tripping off his tongue, like it's not that bad or you could come with me. She wouldn't. She only drops by now because he has assured her that he's pretty well out of the supernatural, though she has never forgiven him for the shattering of a treasured illusion.
“Will you be back?” she asks, and he takes another mouthful of pungent wine, more than he really needs.
“Maybe,” he says. “I've got the flat....”
Olivia meets his eyes once, and he swallows words he wishes he could say. She finishes her wine. “When do you leave?”
“Monday. I don't know how long I'll be.”
She studies the way the light flinches off her wineglass, and sets it aside. “I'm just drunk enough for a little goodbye,” she says, and leans her head on his shoulder. “Are you?”
He can feel the smile stretching his mouth. “I'll try,” he says. Part of him wants to apologize, but then she kisses him, and the thought flies out of his mind, chased out by the fruity sharp taste of red grapes.