FIC: ENJOINED (Part 4 of 4)
(Continued from Part 3 - See Part 1 for Headings, Warnings, Etc.)
Back at Giles' flat it was clear to Buffy that her Watcher was fading. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the coat tree by the door. She watched as he turned and limped to face her at the bottom of the stairs to the loft bedroom.
“If you're tired, we can . . .,” Buffy began.
“I am tired,” he responded. “There is also nothing in the world I want to do more than be close to you right now. As long as it's the same for you.”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
Buffy reached to take his cane from his hand and leaned it against the side of the stairs. Then she slipped beneath his right arm and supported him between herself and the railing as they climbed the stairs together. She could feel his weight upon her more than normal, and sense the stiffness returning to his leg from the long day. She said nothing further though, because he'd stated his choice, and she knew she had to learn to respect that, as he respected hers.
At the top of the stairs, Buffy guided Giles to sit at the foot of his bed, which he did gratefully. She reached her hands to either side of his face and leaned down to kiss him gently - forehead, cheekbones, temples - light, loving kisses to show her feeling for him. He hummed softly at her touch, showing her his appreciation. After a few moments, she found his lips as well. He opened his mouth to her, inviting her entrance. A moment later, she found herself kissing him deeply, as he accepted her tongue fully into his mouth. A surge of desire shot through her from her breasts to her crotch and beyond. She pulled back a moment, panting to breathe, clutching his head to her breast and holding him tight.
Giles reached up to touch the side of her face, tilting her head into a lighter kiss that was just as arousing as the deep searching of a moment ago. Buffy reached her hands to his shirt and began unbuttoning it at his throat. Belatedly, she remembered to ask if she could. “Yes - please,” he answered, his own desire evident in the heat of his voice.
When Buffy had his shirt unbuttoned to his waist, she reached her hand in and stroked him, loving the feel of the crisp, curly hair inside. “I love the feel of you,” she whispered, “when we hug - I love the the strength of you. But the only time I've ever gotten to see or touch you here is when you've been hurt. It's so much better this way.”
“Yes, it is,” Giles replied, pressing against her hand. “Not to mention the number of shirts that can be saved this way,” he chuckled.
Buffy reached to take hold of the edges of his opened shirt in her hands in mock threat. “Don't count on it, Mister - Horny Slayer strength here, remember?”
“I remember,” Giles whispered.
Buffy finished pulling Giles' shirt out of his trousers and opening the lower buttons. She was reaching for his belt when he gently swept her hands away and reached for the hem of her pullover instead. “Your turn,” he said softly He gently lifted her sweater over her head, leaving just her bra beneath. He took her wrists in his hands and guided her arms around the back of his neck, then leaned in to nestle his face between her breasts, bringing his strong, elegant hands up to cup their sides, and laying soft kisses between them. He inhaled her scent deeply. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he nuzzled her.
“Help me up?” he whispered after a moment more, and Buffy did so. Giles moved to pull down the covers of the bed, then turned to his Slayer once more, enveloping her in his arms. “I'd like to get in bed now,” he said softly to her, “but I'd like to be a little more undressed before that - what do you think?”
“I think I can help you with that,” she replied, “but I may need some help myself.”
“Gladly.”
Buffy opened Giles' belt and trousers and opened the zip. She moved her hands to the waistband of his pants then stopped. She'd done this before with others, it seemed a lifetime ago now, but this was Giles, and she suddenly felt very young and stupid in his presence.
“Go on, it's all right,” he reassured her. “Please, Buffy, I want to feel your hands on me.”
That was all it took to send her fears scattering to the four winds. He wanted her.
Buffy pushed the trousers and boxers down his slender, but muscular legs, her eyes glancing over the bandage at his left thigh. It was much smaller now, and she was grateful. As his pants dropped below his knees, Giles took the opportunity to sit down on the side of the bed, and Buffy knelt to pull off his shoes, and socks and his pants the rest of the way. As she straightened, she couldn't help but come eye to eye with Giles' manhood, clearly demonstrating the extent of his arousal. Before she really even though about it, she found herself laying a gentle kiss on the head of his cock.
“Oh, God,” he breathed. He reached his hands to guide her back to her feet, and in similar fashion, soon had her pants and undergarments set aside as well. He bent his head to kiss her gently right at the point of her mound.
He rubbed the side of his face against her. “May I touch you, Buffy,” he said softly.
“I think I'll explode if you don't,” she replied breathlessly. “Actually, I bet I'll explode if you do - but in a good way.”
Ducking his head a little more, Giles was able to reach his tongue to the front of her vulva, seeking out her clit for a few brief strokes. He reached his right hand behind her hip to steady her, and with his left, he reached to stroke two fingers deeper into her, stroking across her entrance, and meeting his tongue at her clit. Buffy shuddered against him helplessly.
“You're so wet, Buffy, your smell, your taste . . . could drive me mad.”
Buffy reluctantly pulled his head up and nearly gasped at the sight of her fluids on his lips. “Don't . . . don't want you to hurt yourself or anything . . . can we get you laid down?” She didn't lift him, but she happily kept her hands on him as he pushed himself backwards
to lie outstretched on the bed. She knelt up beside him.
“Come here,” he directed, his voice heated. “Come up here where I can kiss you again.”
It only took Buffy a moment to realize he didn't mean on her lips.
With Giles' hands guiding her, she positioned herself so that she could kneel over his face, carefully keeping her right leg and foot away from his injured thigh.
He reached his hands up to her face briefly, then stroked them down her shoulders, her breasts, her hips and then around to cup her buttocks. His eyes followed his hands, then returned to her own. “You are so beautiful - my beautiful Slayer - my beautiful Buffy, my love,” he whispered.
Buffy was about to reply when his hands tightened their grip on her ass and pulled her down to his mouth.
Buffy let out a near-scream as Giles thrust his tongue into her and licked her forcefully. He licked through her vulva, dividing his time between her entrance and her clit. After a few moments, he moved his left hand to allow his fingers to take over at her opening. He began moving his fingers and his tongue in a coordinated rhythm. Buffy felt as if her entire sex was on fire, lost in the pleasure he was giving her. She felt her passion building to a boil, and she knew when she came it would be incredible.
Buffy reached her right hand back, and using her Slayer flexibility, managed to take hold of his swollen cock, and grip him in time to his thrusts within her. She felt him moaning against her sex, heard him take a few panting breaths before returning to his task.
“Oh, God, Oh God Giles! You're making me . . . I'm going to . . . Oh Goawdd!!”
Giles pressed his face up into her as she climaxed, sucking her clit into his mouth and giving her the suction and pressure she craved. He timed his motions and tracked her peak, providing just the right touch at the right time to guide her up and over.
As her spasms faded, Buffy slumped against her lover, enjoying the slow receding of the enormous wave she had just experienced. She glanced down and saw Giles' eyes filled with wonder, arousal and love, looking up at her. She shifted herself back onto his chest enough that she could lean down and kiss him thoroughly on the mouth.
“Giles,” she whispered. “That was . . . oh, my God, that was . . . there aren't words for what that was . . .”
Giles reached his hands to stroke through her hair lovingly. He was just looking at her, cataloging her reactions, treasuring each and every one of them. As Buffy shifted slightly above him, she backed into his still-fully erect cock with her thigh, and he groaned in response.
“If it weren't for your leg,” Buffy said passionately, “I'd be rolling a condom on you and taking you inside me right here and now.”
“You can still do that,” Giles replied, his eyes bright with arousal. “You wouldn't even need a condom.” He brushed his fingers across her lips, demonstrating his intent. “If you wanted.”
Buffy grinned deeply. “Oh, very yes, I want.” She scooted further down his body and straddled his right thigh, leaving his left out of the line of fire. She stroked him with her hands a moment, examining the shape of him, and the texture of the soft, velvety skin of his penis, playing with the foreskin and sliding it up to peak at the head of his cock.
“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” Buffy breathed?
“Through your eyes, I do,” he replied. “And I am so very grateful.”
Buffy smiled and bent her head to begin licking her lover's cock, tasting it, testing its response. “Oh Buffy,” he whispered, “that's so lovely, yes, yes just like that, God, you're wonderful. Oooooh . . .”
Buffy continued to work his cock with her mouth, and she also reached to grip his balls with her hand, bringing them into play as well. He seemed to like firm pressure there, and along his perineum. She could feel the swollen internal portion of his penis and tended him there as well.
She loved the feeling of him in her mouth, the feeling of power and control, but also the knowledge that he made himself vulnerable to her in this way, as in so many other ways. She swore to herself she would not betray that trust. Not again.
His impassioned voice brought her back to her task.
“Oh, God . . . Oh, Dear God, Buffy . . . oh Lord, that's heaven . . . you have me on fire, burning me, Dear God . . . I'm so close . . . Aww, Gaaawd Buffy . . .”
Giles was fighting to keep still beneath her, his one hand fisted in the bedclothes, the other reaching for her, barely touching her hair, almost as if to touch her would be to distract her and break the moment.
Filled with love for the man offering her his body beneath her, she used her teeth on him, ever so carefully, and sucked him deep, all the while stroking between his legs and handling his balls. She felt his orgasm gathering within him, felt the tightening, and pressed her face hard against him, taking him deep into her throat.
Giles let out a sound like she'd never heard from him before. Starting as a desperate throaty whine, building to a roaring shout, and receding with a series of gasping groans as his body shook with the power of his release. Buffy felt him flood her mouth, but she didn't want to let him go, so she swallowed his seed, the actions of her throat muscles kicking him through one more peak in the most incredible orgasm he'd known in longer than he could remember.
Slowly, gently, Buffy released Giles sensitized cock from her mouth, and scooted up along his right side, reaching her right hand to take hold of his softening organ, to warm it and treasure it. Giles was somewhat dazed, still recovering from the intensity of the experience, and she pecked lovingly at his lips a moment as he came back to himself. He reached his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest.
“Buffy,” he whispered.
She kissed him again, and watched as his eyes drifted closed.
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Buffy woke to the smell of a hot breakfast cooking. Realizing Giles must be downstairs in the kitchen, Buffy dressed quickly and made her way there.
“Good morning, Buffy,” Giles called to her cheerfully. “I hope you are hungry, because I'm afraid I went a bit overboard here.”
Buffy saw plates of french toast, eggs and ham, with toast and jelly. The table was already set with glasses of milk and orange juice.
Buffy came around the pass-through wall and walked up to her Watcher. He greeted her with a stunning smile and open arms. She allowed herself to be swept into a full-scale Giles hug - a beautiful thing which she returned fiercely, just barely remembering to rein in her strength.
Giles coughed slightly as they separated, rubbing his left side absently. “So, Buffy, are you ready for your first stick lesson, then?”
Buffy cocked her head at him. “I thought that was last night?”
Giles dropped his eyes and smiled again, shyly, turning back to shut off the stove. “On a car, Buffy. Mr. Michaelson is making one of his old standard transmission BMW's available to us today. I thought we could go have some practice after breakfast, if you're interested.”
“I'm definitely interested.”
“Good - shall we?” Giles gestured to the steaming plates of fresh breakfast food. They carried the items to the table and made quick work of the meal.
After cleaning up from breakfast, they headed out to Giles' new car. Still using his cane in accordance with the doctor's orders, Giles made his way to the passenger side, tossing the keys to Buffy without warning, knowing her Slayer reflexes would allow her to identify and catch them without fail.
“More practice?” Buffy inquired as they settled themselves into the car.
Practice is not an event, its . . .
“. . . a journey,” Buffy finished. “I know. Long as I have a good teacher, I'm okay with that.”
“You know of one?” Giles asked, smiling.
“You could say that,” Buffy replied. “You know I also need more practice in my other skills as well, right?”
“I am at your disposal. You can call upon me at anytime.”
“After dinner?”
“Gladly.
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After another busy day of honing Buffy's driving skills and researching an upcoming demon rising, Buffy and Giles settled for a light dinner of bread and cheese, fruit and wine at Giles' flat.
After dinner, it was time for honing of an entirely different sort, and it left them warm, content and happy.
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Giles startled from his sleep to the sound of crying. Coming fully awake in an instant, he realized that Buffy was no longer with him in bed. He quickly pulled on a jumper and sweat pants, and hurried downstairs to find Buffy sobbing quietly on the couch.
Giles heart froze in icy terror. Had it been a mistake after all to become intimate with his Slayer? Had he somehow hurt her last night? God, how could he have been so stupid? He had been certain that she was enjoying their new relationship - what had he missed? Remembering how she had bolted from him before, he approached slowly, trying to keep himself calm, for her sake.
Giles came around to the front of the couch. He would have knelt in front of her, but he could not yet bend his left leg fully. He eased himself down on to the cushion next to her, praying sitting beside her would not make things worse. “Buffy,” he whispered. “What's wrong?”
Instead of being knocked into the kitchen as his frightened heart feared was a possibility, Buffy instead shifted against him, throwing her arms around him, and tucking her head against his chest. He gently placed his arms around her in return, gently stroking her hair, waiting for the right moment to learn what was going on.
After a few moments cuddled against Giles' chest, Buffy spoke. “The memories - they're fading.”
“Memories - the ones you received from me?”
“Yes.”
Giles paused for a long moment, contemplating the information, gently stroking her hair before speaking. “And how do you feel about that?”
Buffy tightened her fist in the front of his jumper. “Like I'm losing you - a part of you.”
Giles leaned back against the couch and pulled Buffy closer, settling her more fully against him, holding her close and continuing to run his fingers through her hair. “Oh, Buffy,” he whispered. “You can't ever lose me. You're quite stuck with me, I'm afraid.”
Buffy worked to pull herself together a bit. She reached her hand across his chest to rest on the arm he held around her. “I know. But still, I mean - I don't care about the other stuff - I don't need to speak Sumerian - I mean, that's your thing, and there's books for that, too. It's the other stuff - the you stuff.”
Giles just held her.
“I wasn't sure,” she continued. “I was still getting new memories, or realizing they were there, even when you were still in the hospital. The night you came home was the first night I realized they were fading. I thought it was just stress at first - worrying about you and how things were going to work out between us and all - but tonight I realized they really are going away.”
Buffy picked up her head off his chest and looked up into his eyes. “I've started a journal. Slayer's Diary, I guess you might call it. I'm writing them down - before I lose them forever. I don't want to lose them. I want to remember. Or at a minimum, I want to know they once existed.”
Giles eyes were bright with emotion. “I don't think I can express how precious that is to me,” he whispered.
“I want the world to know who Rupert Giles is, what he went through, what kind of a man he is, and how proud of him I am. Maybe a hundred years from now some other Watcher/Slayer team will read them, and they'll be inspired.”
Giles continued to hold her, deeply moved by her words, not really knowing what to say, not even knowing if a response was required. That was a good thing, because he was quite overcome at present.
They continued to hold each other, both of them gradually calming, drawing comfort from the other. When she felt calmer, Buffy decided it was time to ask her Watcher about some of what she'd learned about him, before those thoughts existed solely on the paper of her new journal.
“You have memories of playing with your father's Slayer when you were a kid,” Buffy said.
“Yes,” Giles acknowledged. “She was always sweet to me. A big sister to an otherwise lonely only child.”
“How did she die?”
Giles drew a long breath, the subject of the death of any Slayer being a particularly hard thing for him to discuss.
“You don't have to say if you don't want,” Buffy offered, noting his hesitation.
“No, no . . . its all right. I don't know how Katie died - not exactly. I was very young - seven or eight, I think? I'd already lost my mum. My father never spoke of it to me, not then, and not since. It destroyed him. From bits and pieces I've gathered from members of Council over the years, he was injured on a patrol with her, and she died protecting him. He'd begged her to leave him, but she wouldn't do so. He'd gone out with her on a periodic review of her technique. He didn't go often - he was older, you see, not in the best of health. It was just a few elder vampires, nothing Katie couldn't have handled on her own normally. The vampires wounded him deliberately, correctly guessing she wouldn't leave him. It slowed her down just enough. She killed them all, except the one that killed her. He deliberately left my father alive to taunt him.”
“So he blamed himself.”
“Unmercifully.”
Buffy digested Giles' words a moment. “Katie sounds amazing.”
“She was. Or so
I thought.”
“And your father?”
“He was never the same. He would have given his life at her side, but he was denied that choice. He pulled some strings and arranged for a Council Special Ops team take out the last elder and his entourage. He became particularly harsh with me. Trying to prepare me, I suppose.”
“Maybe that's why he still didn't think you should have a Slayer, even after you survived the Blackshed Trial. He wanted to protect you?”
“Ah - so you are playing psychologist with me while the memories last?” Giles asked, eyebrows rising.
“If you don't want to talk about it . . .”
“No, Buffy, it's not that,” he responded, shaking his head. “I just . . . I suppose it depends on my mood how I feel about it. It's quite possible, as you suggest, that he wanted to protect me, but if he did, it was because he also thought I was a berk that needed protecting.” Giles smiled ruefully. “I suppose sometimes that I am.”
“It's still my fault you were sitting out there in the line of fire. I'm the berk.”
Giles chuckled.
What?
“The nomination 'berk' just doesn't quite mesh with the native Southern California accent.”
“Accent? I'm not the one speaking with an accent here, Buster,” Buffy replied, rising to the challenge of the old argument. “If you'd just speak English . . .”
“Instead of English . . .,” Giles replied in turn, as expected, tilting his head side to side with each word.
“Wait a minute - I know where this discussion goes - been there, done that.” Buffy noted. They shared a chuckle, and Buffy sat up to look into Giles' eyes. “I can think of other things I'd rather be doing with you right now.”
“Perhaps you should show me, then.”
“Race you back upstairs?” Buffy offered.
“I'll give you a head start.” Giles replied, limping along after her as she jogged backwards up to the loft.
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They awoke again about sunrise, and Buffy leaned up on one elbow to look down at her lover. “Can I play psychologist again?”
“You really have made notes about this haven't you?” Giles replied, still surprised and pleased that his Slayer was making an effort to understand him and his history.
“I had a lot of time to think while I was watching them work on you in the hospital. It was terrifyingly thought-provoking,” she replied soberly.
Giles gave her his full attention, realizing she needed time and talk to work things through. “Go ahead.”
“With Eyghon, you had to choose. It was Randall or Ethan.”
“Yes. Not a great choice in retrospect. Randall was a gentle soul. Ethan was already turning toward darkness and chaos.”
“But you'd done all you could. You did the spell, you had it all set. Phillip messed it up - messed up the containment wards - he freaked and stepped out of the pentagram. Eyghon was in Randall and broke free and went after Ethan.”
“That's how I remember it, yes.”
“That's how it was. It's weird, but I can tell which of your memories are how you thought about things, and which are kind of like video recordings. There's a difference. It's kind of hard to explain.”
Giles looked at her in amazement. “Really? That's a great comfort, actually. I've always wondered if I remembered what I wanted to remember or what actually happened. I . . . I was in shock for a while after, I think.”
“You were,” Buffy confirmed.
“Thank you, Buffy,” Giles said sincerely, reaching to stroke her hair. “That question as been a source of pain in my soul for years.”
“Happy to help,” she responded, and leaned down to kiss him again.
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“You really are doing much better, Buffy,” Giles said as they returned to his flat several days later after another session with the standard transmission car.
“Just takes practice with a good teacher,” she offered, happy to have her Watcher's increasing opinion of her driving ability.
Buffy parked Giles' new gray car in an available spot on the street, and hopped up onto the sidewalk. She waited as he levered himself out of the passenger seat. He was still using his cane, but his leg was nearly fully healed, and he was due to stop using the support in another week.
As she watched him stand, tall and handsome, she felt a rush of love and pride wash through her. This amazing man was her teacher, her partner, her friend, and now her lover. Her heart was so full, it felt almost too big for her chest. She felt humbled that despite all her issues, and all the pain she'd caused him, that he would still choose to be at her side.
As they walked to his front door, Buffy hooked her arm through his. “So - do you still think you could find your way to being with a snot-nosed bratty clueless Slayer?”
“I already am,” he replied sincerely.
“You didn't have to agree so easily - to the adjectives, I mean. I'll give you time to come up with better ones.”
“Buffy, you well know that I have my own considerable share of faults. It's what we make of all of it. We can go as slow as you want. We're together. We're alive. We'll use whatever time is given to us, and no one but us need define how this will work between us.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“So do I,” he agreed.
Giles unlocked his front door, and they stepped inside. Buffy noted he locked it behind them.
“By the way,” he said, turning toward her. “Did you say the word 'adjectives'?”
“Yeah - why? Does it get you hot, Grammar Man?” she teased.
Giles threw his arms around her and kissed her thoroughly a moment. “You know I'm an advocate of proper grammatical usage,” he conceded.
“Okay,” Buffy replied. “Let's see . . . adjectives . . . handsome, brave, intelligent, patient, capable, gorgeous, sexy, snoggable, sweet, thoughtful, trustworthy, dedicated, sword-wielding, demon-slaying, magic-using, dead-language-speaking, BMW-driving . . .”
Giles kissed her again. He didn't necessarily need the words, but it was always nice to hear them.
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End Part 4 of 4
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For some visuals on a certain unsung character of the story . . .
I give you my version of the new Watcher-Mobile (Giles-Mobile):
Giles New Car 3/4 Left Front
Giles New Car Left Side
Giles New Car Front
Giles New Car Rear
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Thanks for reading!
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Summer of Giles 2012