Recruit (2/9)
Fandoms: Buffy/HP
Canon Compliancy: Set in 2004; through Buffy season 8, issue 4; post-HBP
Pairing: Giles/Snape
Rating: NC-17, slash
Genre: Drama/Humor/Romance
Word Count: ~22K
Status: Complete; will be posted over July 2nd and 3rd
Summary: Slayers abounded, and even with new innovations in training and technology, the Watcher’s Council struggled to cope with the decimation of its ranks wreaked by the Bringers. Willow’s sudden return offered Giles the chance to discover much-needed new recruits. Yet nothing quite prepared him for one Severus Snape.
Previous: Chapter 1.
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
Thanks go to the wonderful
firefly_124, who betaed for me, and to the amazing
saracen77, who Brit-picked.
Chapter 2
London was never truly dark at night, and the orange glow surrounded them as Giles’s Jaguar navigated the last few streets to where he lived. Unfortunately, parking was next to impossible at this time of evening, and Giles was almost out of the range of his resident parking permit by the time he discovered another car leaving a space.
The half-mile walk to the house passed in silence, as had sections of the long drive. Interestingly enough, it had been a somewhat comfortable silence. Snape certainly isn’t one who needs to chatter, Giles thought. Although the conversation about Manu demons an hour back was quite interesting - to think that they are purposefully raised in Bulgaria for Potions ingredients!
As they neared the door, Giles nonetheless felt compelled to speak. “Just so you’re aware, I’ve brought you to my house. It’s nothing posh mind - or at least not posh by Chelsea standards - but it’s a fairly quiet street for London, and the location is convenient to both Headquarters and Battersea Park.”
The piercing eyes, which had been darting about taking in seemingly every smallest detail of the street with its mid-terrace houses fronted by black iron railings, turned fully upon Giles. Snape’s face betrayed neither approval nor condemnation.
Why am I so concerned that he like my house? Is it because I have such a difficult time reading him? Not pausing to give it any more thought, Giles continued. “The most pressing point for tonight is that I have other guests. Although I usually live alone, members of the Watcher’s Council from other divisions are here this week, and they’re staying with me.” He paused. “They also happen to be friends.”
Instead of seeming alarmed, a calculating look crossed Snape’s features. “Is one of them this Willow?”
“Yes. And you’ll meet the original Slayer as well, Buffy.”
“Buffy.” Another word that appeared to leave an unpleasant taste upon Snape’s tongue.
Giles turned to hide his smile - after all, hadn’t he thought something similar upon hearing the oh-so-American name for the first time? But Buffy would prove Snape’s derision wrong. She always does.
She wouldn’t, however, have to do so tonight as the house was empty. Instead of the galloping herd of hyperactivity he’d been dreading, nothing but quiet greeted Giles and his newest guest.
The note on the hallway table offered explanation: ‘Patrolling. Willow came along. Don’t wait up. - Buffy’
“Well, then. It seems as if it’s just us. Would you care for anything, or do you want to get settled in?”
The dark man’s face was once again inscrutable. “I would prefer to turn in.”
“Right. Follow me then.” Giles mounted the stairs and climbed to the first floor. How convenient that the empty bedroom is so close to mine, a smug voice whispered within Giles’s mind.
Shut it, replied his rational half.
Stopping at the doorway, he moved back a bit so that Snape could move past him. Yet the hallway was small, and the back of Snape’s right hand brushed against Giles’s left. A sense of electricity flowed through him at the touch, and Giles wished Snape’s back wasn’t to him so that he could see the other man’s expression to know if he felt it as well.
Setting down the black leather bag containing all of the possessions he saw fit to travel with, Snape eventually turned, his dark eyes meeting Giles’s for an intense look, and suddenly, Giles remembered the press of Snape’s body as it held him to the wall. His cock, already faintly interested by that one touch of skin on skin, stirred to greater attention.
“The bathroom is located at the end of the hall.” Giles pointed in the appropriate direction. “And if you need anything, I’m in the room directly across.”
Snape nodded.
“Good night.” He felt the other man’s eyes on him for the entire time it took to cross the hall and enter his bedroom. Leaning against the inside of his closed door, Giles pressed a palm to his growing erection, thinking, Bloody hell, I need a wank.
~~~
Giles hummed unconsciously in contentment as he took a sip of tea. I slept like hell last night - all of those dreams. Dark eyes and hot hands and firm flesh morphing through his consciousness, leaving him wakeful and aroused.
Another sip and umm, and he was made aware of his noise-making by a throat clear from the doorway.
Confronted with the object of his quasi-erotic dreams, he took a larger mouthful than usual before lowering the cup to greet Snape. At such volume, the tea bordered upon scalding. Wincing slightly, Giles swallowed and said, “Good morning. There is tea prepared - Assam. If that’s not to your liking, I have Earl Grey.”
Snape smirked and remained standing in the doorway, watching. “Assam will be acceptable. I find I prefer a rather … robust … cup in the morning.”
“Yes … good.” He suppressed the nervous tic of cleaning his glasses. “There’s toast or Weetabix. I suppose I could do a bit of a fry-up if you’d like, though I don’t think I have any mushrooms.”
“Toast would be fine. Although I wouldn’t mind a spot of sausage - if you have any, that is.”
Is that also supposed to be a double entendre? Or am I simply that randy? Giles tried to read the other man’s face, but to little avail. It was carefully neutral, though the eyes retained a certain intensity.
“Of course I have sausage - tomatoes as well.” Rising, he gestured towards the teapot. “Get your tea - cups are in the cupboard above - and if you don’t mind, I’ll have you do the toast while I put the sausage on.”
They worked in silence - the comfortable quiet of yesterday’s car ride - with movements smoothly coordinated so that they were never in each other’s way even though the workspace was not large.
Soon settled at the table, Giles refused to eat the sausage suggestively, no matter its shape, and Snape appeared of a similar mind. Although if he did eat it suggestively, I’d at least have a clearer idea of his intentions.
Pushing his plate away and settling back with his cuppa, Giles finally spoke, “Since we’re going to Headquarters today, you’ll need to dress a bit more … normally.” At Snape’s quirked eyebrow, Giles qualified, “Normal for Muggles, that is.”
Looking Giles over closely, the other man replied, “And your attire is considered normal?”
Glancing briefly down at his own fitted trousers and smart, dark-green jumper, Giles replied, “Yes, it is. But you don’t have to be quite this informal. Your trousers should be fine. A frock coat, however, is conspicuous. I could always loan you a jacket such as I wore yesterday.”
Snape grimaced.
“I have one in black,” Giles clarified, “and it’s not tweed but worsted. It should suffice.”
Any reply was cut off by the front door slamming. Two sets of feet sounded - one running up the stairs and the other coming towards the kitchen to quickly deliver Buffy.
“Giles, hey! We had an uneventful patrol last night, but you should have seen …” She came to a halt. “You must be the new guy. I’m Buffy.”
“Snape,” he said, his eyes flicking towards her briefly before returning their intense focus to Giles. “I will leave you to discuss your … patrol while I attempt to see if I have anything more ‘normal’ to wear. I have become accustomed to simply Transfiguring what I need and did not bring much that would be acceptable. If you deem any of your clothing appropriate, please deliver such to my room.” He paused to smirk. “I will await you.”
At Giles’s nod, Snape rose and walked past her, saying, “Buffy.”
She turned to watch him go and then faced Giles with her mouth working but no sound emerging.
“Patrol?” Giles prompted.
“It was nothing really - only one vamp. I really just wanted to hang with Willow in a cemetery without a crowd of new Slayers around - old times, you know? I also thought it would give you the chance to get the new guy settled … in case he was all … twitchy.”
“Buffy …”
“It’s okay, Giles. I know it’s hard to realize at times, but I have grown up - I now know that not everyone likes my ‘brash’ American charm.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
He smiled but attempted to hide it behind the rim of his teacup.
She continued. “Especially since he seems like he’s all stiff upper lippy like you were when you first came to Sunnydale. I mean, really - could you have been a bigger square?” She grinned and looked him over. “But just look at you now - all relaxed, confident, and … sexy.”
“Buffy.” He feared his voice conveyed embarrassment with the note of annoyance.
Holding up both hands with palms facing outwards, she said, “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean sexy to me ‘cause that would just be wrong on so many levels. You’re like a Dad, Giles. I mean sexy to other people - other older people.” She paused for a minute and then fluttered her hands agitatedly. “But not old as in gross because I’m so able to now see that it’s okay to have sex when you’re older and -”
“Buffy, just how much caffeine have you had this morning?”
She laughed a little. “Didn’t I tell you? Chelsea now has a Starbucks! ‘Cause seriously, Giles, that instant coffee stuff you have is naff. So Willow and I went for Mochaccinos a bit ago. But I only had one - okay, one and a half - maybe two - no, it really doesn’t count as two because there was this guy and he knocked into …”
As Buffy’s caffeine-exacerbated babbling continued, Giles realized that, in contrast, he had not had nearly enough of said substance to cope with the demands of the day. A day not even truly begun. Dear Lord, they’ve overdosed on caffeine and sugar. Whatever will Willow be like?
As if conjured by his very thought, footsteps careened down the stirs, and Willow practically bounced into the room, calling out a perky, “Morning, Giles.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy, in her accelerated state, beat him to it. “Oh, Willow - I met the new guy!”
“Really? And?”
“He’s more uptight than Giles and Wesley were when they first came to Sunnydale.”
“No.” Willow’s eyes widened.
“His clothing was more … more.” There was rapid hand waving set to encompass a complete ensemble. “There were buttons, Will. Hundreds of buttons. It was worse than when we watched that thingy Bridget Jones was based on.
“And,” Buffy continued, “it wasn’t just the clothes. He even acted like that Darcy guy.”
“No.”
“Yes. All with the stiff back and the uncomfortableness.” Buffy flicked her eyes towards Giles, then grinned. “But there is one good thing about him: he likes Giles.”
Oh, bugger, Giles sighed internally and longed to remove his glasses for a good cleaning.
Willow’s face brightened. “Oh, well, that’s good. He can’t be all bad if -”
“No, Willow. He likes Giles.” Buffy wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis.
“Really?” She turned to fully face Giles. If wide eyes meant shocked on Willow, dropped jaw must indicate full-on gobsmacked. She gushed, “That’s great … I never … and me with the being gay and all.” Then her tone and expression abruptly changed to one of hurt. “Giles! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s okay, Will.” Buffy said. “He didn’t tell me either.”
“Then how …”
“I could tell when I walked into the room. They were all … vibey with each other.”
Could she be right? Is he interested? Shaking himself from indulging in fanciful notions, Giles finally broke into the conversation. “You’re being preposterous, both of you. There was no … vibing of any sort going on.”
“Sure there was, Giles. I’ve got Slayer senses - I can tell vibes.”
“Detecting ‘vibes’ is not something you will ever find documented as a Slayer power.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I’m unique - you tell me so all the time.”
“Uniquely a pain in my arse,” Giles muttered.
“And I’ve got Slayer hearing, so watch it, Bub.” Her mock stern glare faded quickly to be replaced with an expression of extreme interest. “So, when you going to make your move?”
“Good Lord - I only just met the man!” He narrowed his eyes. “And why are you suddenly so keen on my love life?”
She sighed. “Giles, I haven’t had a boyfriend since Sp- … well, since Sunnydale, and I’m living in a remote castle in Scotland surrounded by nothing but girls - no offense, Will, but it’s not really my thing.”
Willow waved her hand in understanding.
Buffy continued. “Any loving in my life is going to happen vicariously.” Her grin grew. “Looks like you’re it, Giles. Get cracking!”
AN: I’m aware that ‘gay’ typically refers specifically to homosexual men, but Willow uses it regularly to describe herself, so I do too.
On to Chapter 3.
Canon Compliancy: Set in 2004; through Buffy season 8, issue 4; post-HBP
Pairing: Giles/Snape
Rating: NC-17, slash
Genre: Drama/Humor/Romance
Word Count: ~22K
Status: Complete; will be posted over July 2nd and 3rd
Summary: Slayers abounded, and even with new innovations in training and technology, the Watcher’s Council struggled to cope with the decimation of its ranks wreaked by the Bringers. Willow’s sudden return offered Giles the chance to discover much-needed new recruits. Yet nothing quite prepared him for one Severus Snape.
Previous: Chapter 1.
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
Thanks go to the wonderful
firefly_124, who betaed for me, and to the amazing
saracen77, who Brit-picked.
Chapter 2
London was never truly dark at night, and the orange glow surrounded them as Giles’s Jaguar navigated the last few streets to where he lived. Unfortunately, parking was next to impossible at this time of evening, and Giles was almost out of the range of his resident parking permit by the time he discovered another car leaving a space.
The half-mile walk to the house passed in silence, as had sections of the long drive. Interestingly enough, it had been a somewhat comfortable silence. Snape certainly isn’t one who needs to chatter, Giles thought. Although the conversation about Manu demons an hour back was quite interesting - to think that they are purposefully raised in Bulgaria for Potions ingredients!
As they neared the door, Giles nonetheless felt compelled to speak. “Just so you’re aware, I’ve brought you to my house. It’s nothing posh mind - or at least not posh by Chelsea standards - but it’s a fairly quiet street for London, and the location is convenient to both Headquarters and Battersea Park.”
The piercing eyes, which had been darting about taking in seemingly every smallest detail of the street with its mid-terrace houses fronted by black iron railings, turned fully upon Giles. Snape’s face betrayed neither approval nor condemnation.
Why am I so concerned that he like my house? Is it because I have such a difficult time reading him? Not pausing to give it any more thought, Giles continued. “The most pressing point for tonight is that I have other guests. Although I usually live alone, members of the Watcher’s Council from other divisions are here this week, and they’re staying with me.” He paused. “They also happen to be friends.”
Instead of seeming alarmed, a calculating look crossed Snape’s features. “Is one of them this Willow?”
“Yes. And you’ll meet the original Slayer as well, Buffy.”
“Buffy.” Another word that appeared to leave an unpleasant taste upon Snape’s tongue.
Giles turned to hide his smile - after all, hadn’t he thought something similar upon hearing the oh-so-American name for the first time? But Buffy would prove Snape’s derision wrong. She always does.
She wouldn’t, however, have to do so tonight as the house was empty. Instead of the galloping herd of hyperactivity he’d been dreading, nothing but quiet greeted Giles and his newest guest.
The note on the hallway table offered explanation: ‘Patrolling. Willow came along. Don’t wait up. - Buffy’
“Well, then. It seems as if it’s just us. Would you care for anything, or do you want to get settled in?”
The dark man’s face was once again inscrutable. “I would prefer to turn in.”
“Right. Follow me then.” Giles mounted the stairs and climbed to the first floor. How convenient that the empty bedroom is so close to mine, a smug voice whispered within Giles’s mind.
Shut it, replied his rational half.
Stopping at the doorway, he moved back a bit so that Snape could move past him. Yet the hallway was small, and the back of Snape’s right hand brushed against Giles’s left. A sense of electricity flowed through him at the touch, and Giles wished Snape’s back wasn’t to him so that he could see the other man’s expression to know if he felt it as well.
Setting down the black leather bag containing all of the possessions he saw fit to travel with, Snape eventually turned, his dark eyes meeting Giles’s for an intense look, and suddenly, Giles remembered the press of Snape’s body as it held him to the wall. His cock, already faintly interested by that one touch of skin on skin, stirred to greater attention.
“The bathroom is located at the end of the hall.” Giles pointed in the appropriate direction. “And if you need anything, I’m in the room directly across.”
Snape nodded.
“Good night.” He felt the other man’s eyes on him for the entire time it took to cross the hall and enter his bedroom. Leaning against the inside of his closed door, Giles pressed a palm to his growing erection, thinking, Bloody hell, I need a wank.
~~~
Giles hummed unconsciously in contentment as he took a sip of tea. I slept like hell last night - all of those dreams. Dark eyes and hot hands and firm flesh morphing through his consciousness, leaving him wakeful and aroused.
Another sip and umm, and he was made aware of his noise-making by a throat clear from the doorway.
Confronted with the object of his quasi-erotic dreams, he took a larger mouthful than usual before lowering the cup to greet Snape. At such volume, the tea bordered upon scalding. Wincing slightly, Giles swallowed and said, “Good morning. There is tea prepared - Assam. If that’s not to your liking, I have Earl Grey.”
Snape smirked and remained standing in the doorway, watching. “Assam will be acceptable. I find I prefer a rather … robust … cup in the morning.”
“Yes … good.” He suppressed the nervous tic of cleaning his glasses. “There’s toast or Weetabix. I suppose I could do a bit of a fry-up if you’d like, though I don’t think I have any mushrooms.”
“Toast would be fine. Although I wouldn’t mind a spot of sausage - if you have any, that is.”
Is that also supposed to be a double entendre? Or am I simply that randy? Giles tried to read the other man’s face, but to little avail. It was carefully neutral, though the eyes retained a certain intensity.
“Of course I have sausage - tomatoes as well.” Rising, he gestured towards the teapot. “Get your tea - cups are in the cupboard above - and if you don’t mind, I’ll have you do the toast while I put the sausage on.”
They worked in silence - the comfortable quiet of yesterday’s car ride - with movements smoothly coordinated so that they were never in each other’s way even though the workspace was not large.
Soon settled at the table, Giles refused to eat the sausage suggestively, no matter its shape, and Snape appeared of a similar mind. Although if he did eat it suggestively, I’d at least have a clearer idea of his intentions.
Pushing his plate away and settling back with his cuppa, Giles finally spoke, “Since we’re going to Headquarters today, you’ll need to dress a bit more … normally.” At Snape’s quirked eyebrow, Giles qualified, “Normal for Muggles, that is.”
Looking Giles over closely, the other man replied, “And your attire is considered normal?”
Glancing briefly down at his own fitted trousers and smart, dark-green jumper, Giles replied, “Yes, it is. But you don’t have to be quite this informal. Your trousers should be fine. A frock coat, however, is conspicuous. I could always loan you a jacket such as I wore yesterday.”
Snape grimaced.
“I have one in black,” Giles clarified, “and it’s not tweed but worsted. It should suffice.”
Any reply was cut off by the front door slamming. Two sets of feet sounded - one running up the stairs and the other coming towards the kitchen to quickly deliver Buffy.
“Giles, hey! We had an uneventful patrol last night, but you should have seen …” She came to a halt. “You must be the new guy. I’m Buffy.”
“Snape,” he said, his eyes flicking towards her briefly before returning their intense focus to Giles. “I will leave you to discuss your … patrol while I attempt to see if I have anything more ‘normal’ to wear. I have become accustomed to simply Transfiguring what I need and did not bring much that would be acceptable. If you deem any of your clothing appropriate, please deliver such to my room.” He paused to smirk. “I will await you.”
At Giles’s nod, Snape rose and walked past her, saying, “Buffy.”
She turned to watch him go and then faced Giles with her mouth working but no sound emerging.
“Patrol?” Giles prompted.
“It was nothing really - only one vamp. I really just wanted to hang with Willow in a cemetery without a crowd of new Slayers around - old times, you know? I also thought it would give you the chance to get the new guy settled … in case he was all … twitchy.”
“Buffy …”
“It’s okay, Giles. I know it’s hard to realize at times, but I have grown up - I now know that not everyone likes my ‘brash’ American charm.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
He smiled but attempted to hide it behind the rim of his teacup.
She continued. “Especially since he seems like he’s all stiff upper lippy like you were when you first came to Sunnydale. I mean, really - could you have been a bigger square?” She grinned and looked him over. “But just look at you now - all relaxed, confident, and … sexy.”
“Buffy.” He feared his voice conveyed embarrassment with the note of annoyance.
Holding up both hands with palms facing outwards, she said, “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean sexy to me ‘cause that would just be wrong on so many levels. You’re like a Dad, Giles. I mean sexy to other people - other older people.” She paused for a minute and then fluttered her hands agitatedly. “But not old as in gross because I’m so able to now see that it’s okay to have sex when you’re older and -”
“Buffy, just how much caffeine have you had this morning?”
She laughed a little. “Didn’t I tell you? Chelsea now has a Starbucks! ‘Cause seriously, Giles, that instant coffee stuff you have is naff. So Willow and I went for Mochaccinos a bit ago. But I only had one - okay, one and a half - maybe two - no, it really doesn’t count as two because there was this guy and he knocked into …”
As Buffy’s caffeine-exacerbated babbling continued, Giles realized that, in contrast, he had not had nearly enough of said substance to cope with the demands of the day. A day not even truly begun. Dear Lord, they’ve overdosed on caffeine and sugar. Whatever will Willow be like?
As if conjured by his very thought, footsteps careened down the stirs, and Willow practically bounced into the room, calling out a perky, “Morning, Giles.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy, in her accelerated state, beat him to it. “Oh, Willow - I met the new guy!”
“Really? And?”
“He’s more uptight than Giles and Wesley were when they first came to Sunnydale.”
“No.” Willow’s eyes widened.
“His clothing was more … more.” There was rapid hand waving set to encompass a complete ensemble. “There were buttons, Will. Hundreds of buttons. It was worse than when we watched that thingy Bridget Jones was based on.
“And,” Buffy continued, “it wasn’t just the clothes. He even acted like that Darcy guy.”
“No.”
“Yes. All with the stiff back and the uncomfortableness.” Buffy flicked her eyes towards Giles, then grinned. “But there is one good thing about him: he likes Giles.”
Oh, bugger, Giles sighed internally and longed to remove his glasses for a good cleaning.
Willow’s face brightened. “Oh, well, that’s good. He can’t be all bad if -”
“No, Willow. He likes Giles.” Buffy wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis.
“Really?” She turned to fully face Giles. If wide eyes meant shocked on Willow, dropped jaw must indicate full-on gobsmacked. She gushed, “That’s great … I never … and me with the being gay and all.” Then her tone and expression abruptly changed to one of hurt. “Giles! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s okay, Will.” Buffy said. “He didn’t tell me either.”
“Then how …”
“I could tell when I walked into the room. They were all … vibey with each other.”
Could she be right? Is he interested? Shaking himself from indulging in fanciful notions, Giles finally broke into the conversation. “You’re being preposterous, both of you. There was no … vibing of any sort going on.”
“Sure there was, Giles. I’ve got Slayer senses - I can tell vibes.”
“Detecting ‘vibes’ is not something you will ever find documented as a Slayer power.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I’m unique - you tell me so all the time.”
“Uniquely a pain in my arse,” Giles muttered.
“And I’ve got Slayer hearing, so watch it, Bub.” Her mock stern glare faded quickly to be replaced with an expression of extreme interest. “So, when you going to make your move?”
“Good Lord - I only just met the man!” He narrowed his eyes. “And why are you suddenly so keen on my love life?”
She sighed. “Giles, I haven’t had a boyfriend since Sp- … well, since Sunnydale, and I’m living in a remote castle in Scotland surrounded by nothing but girls - no offense, Will, but it’s not really my thing.”
Willow waved her hand in understanding.
Buffy continued. “Any loving in my life is going to happen vicariously.” Her grin grew. “Looks like you’re it, Giles. Get cracking!”
AN: I’m aware that ‘gay’ typically refers specifically to homosexual men, but Willow uses it regularly to describe herself, so I do too.
On to Chapter 3.