Recruit (5/9)
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, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4.
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
Thanks go to the wonderful firefly_124, who betaed for me and to the amazing saracen77, who Brit-picked. Big thanks as well to katekat1010, who made the gorgeous banner.
Chapter 5
The past week had been a blur. Snape had needed time to settle his affairs and move his required possessions to London. Giles could ill afford any more time away from Headquarters, so he had sent Paola and Ekat to assist, two Slayers more than capable of putting up with the man’s acerbic temper. As Buffy had said when she had picked them, “Those two don’t take sh- uh, guff from nobody, Giles. Not even me.”
He’d smiled. “Yes, well, I’m sure the kote gaeshi wrist lock Sasha placed on him only aided his respect for Slayers.” He had rubbed his own corresponding joint in lingering sympathy pain.
Only now said wrist ached for an altogether different reason. Dear Lord, could there have been more paperwork that needed signing? When do I become important enough to have a secretary able to forge my signature?
Scrawling his name across the bottom of the day’s final document, Giles leaned back in his chair and twisted his neck from side to side until he obtained a satisfying crack. Yet it eased the pain only somewhat - really it was caused by the ongoing tightness of his shoulders.
It had been the perfect time for wild Ugashkar demons to rampage through upper Mongolia, Billilongs to break through a portal in Texas, and warlock-summoned Krishnack demons to assault Sierra Leone. All right, perfect wasn’t the right word - when was it ever good to have demon outbreaks? - but really, in what other week would he have had the resources of both Buffy and Willow to help him personally?
While Willow remained in London to work with Snape upon his return, Buffy had no such official reason to stay. He suspected that her lingering had more to do with a voyeuristic intention to watch his supposed love life develop than the weak excuses of shopping and specialty coffee he’d been given. Because she hadn’t been to the shops on Oxford Street in a fortnight and had sipped Earl Grey with him as recently as this morning.
Yet the past week had also dragged interminably. Even with the excitement of assorted demons, shortages of corn flakes in the refectory, debates over whether the year twelve textbooks for maths were too remedial, and continued issues with the simulators, Giles had been bored. Or if not precisely bored, then anxious.
But such was about to change - if only to grow worse.
For Snape had returned to London today, settling into Giles’s home.
It had only made sense really. All the Council’s flats were full, and Snape did not yet have the means to obtain a ‘Muggle’ flat on his own. Besides which, Giles had plenty of room - soon to be more if Buffy and Willow didn’t stop snickering every time he offered such reasons for Snape moving in with him.
Giles checked his watch, again, before reaching for a Jaffa cake. Four thirty. The tea would be cold by now, but the familiar burst of chocolate, orange, and sponge across his tongue soothed.
Temporarily at least. He reached for another biscuit and another. Soon the plate was empty.
Bugger. His watch now only said four thirty-five. He stood. There was nothing for it - he was going to leave early for a change.
~~~
He returned home to a house strangely silent. “Hello?”
“In here.”
Entering the sitting room, Giles found Snape alone but for the book stretched across his lap. “Buffy and Willow?”
“They appear to have left for the evening. They said something about eating curry and watching films, perhaps two of such.”
“You’re not certain?”
He smirked. “They spent an inordinate amount of time grinning at each other and attempting not to laugh. It rather distracted from the verbal message.”
“I imagine it would if you’re not yet used to them.” Giles grinned and settled onto the sofa, spreading his arms along the back. This is much less awkward than I’d worried it would be. “And you? All settled in?”
Snape inclined his head. “For the most part, yes. I waited to consult with you on certain items I thought appropriate to place in the common areas - this room and the library for instance.”
“I’d meant to clear off a couple of the bookcases for you in the library. I’m more than able to move some of my personal collection to my office at Headquarters. In fact, it’s probably wise of me to do so in order to give more people access to key texts our library lacks.”
Snape gestured towards the book he’d been reading. “You do have some quite … interesting references here.” He almost smiled.
Yet Snape’s countenance grew abruptly more serious, his spine stiffening away from the rather comfortable back of the lounge chair. “But such pleasantries as this can be discussed at another time. I would like to converse about my financial commitments to this household.”
Oh, bugger. There goes the lack of awkwardness. Giles sighed and removed his eyewear to pinch the bridge of nose. “I thought we’d settled this.”
“No. You offered me lodgings. I accepted, saying I would pay my share.”
“And as I explained, the Council owns this house, so there is no lease or mortgage. The utilities and such are something I’m more than capable of covering.” He used the excuse of replacing his glasses to try and form the next thoughts as delicately as possible. “You’ve been out of work for a good five years. Can we not delay this for a few months at least?”
Looking as if about to leap from his chair, Snape leaned forward to sneer, “I will be beholden to no one.”
So much for ‘delicate.’ “Fine. As the bills come in, we’ll sort through them and divide them appropriately.”
Snape settled back, a smug look firmly in place.
“But,” Giles raised a finger, “whenever I have guests, I’m going to divide everything according to how many of them there are, and I will pay for their parts as well.” He raised another finger. “If I choose to buy a luxury food or wine, you’ll just have to consume it without any form of protest or payment.” A third finger. “And the same applies to furnishings or repairs. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly.” The growl matched the darkened expression Snape wore.
After sitting in tense silence for a stretched moment, Giles finally stood and moved to the drinks cabinet. “Whisky?”
“Merlin, yes.”
Giles allowed himself a grin since his back was to the other man. Pouring a good measure of Oban into each glass, he sipped at his even as he turned to give Snape the other.
The dark man set the book aside and grunted a thanks as his long fingers wrapped the glass, sighing with obvious relish upon tasting the first mouthful.
“Speaking of food and drink,” Giles said in a carefully neutral voice while resuming his seat, “is there anything in particular you fancy this evening?”
“I do believe that, before they left, the young ladies said something about ordering takeaway as a longstanding Muggle, moving-day tradition.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. “They left the appropriate brochures on the kitchen counter.”
“Oh, yes. There’s quite a good Italian place that does brilliant thin-crust pizzas, and the local Chinese takeaway isn’t bad either.”
“Pizza sounds intriguing. It has been years since I had it, and I was never quite sure that the Wizarding interpretation of it was very accurate. It does not seem that the toppings should be so … animate.”
“Well, this place is quite authentic. And I have a lovely bottle of Chianti that should go nicely. I’ll open it now to allow it to air.” Giles stood and gestured for Snape to follow before walking towards the kitchen. “In fact, we should also order their version of garlic bread - they make it with a thin crust that’s been drizzled with olive oil and topped with both rosemary and garlic. It’s utterly delicious.”
~~~
Buffy and Willow had suddenly discovered that London had ‘night life,’ spending the next five evenings in a row out. Their machinations were becoming so obvious that Giles had corned each of them at Headquarters this afternoon and asked them to make sure they were available for dinner on Saturday.
Yet today was Thursday, so he had this evening alone with Snape.
A Snape who could cook quite well, even without the aid of magic.
Spearing the last of the gnocchi in handmade pesto sauce, Giles raised it to his mouth and allowed himself the luxury of savoring its flavor. Opening his eyes, he observed Snape watching him, lips quirked in amusement.
“I see that Italian may truly be where your tastes lie.”
Giles took a quick sip of wine to clear his throat and said with a small smile, “You’ve sussed me out.”
“Good.”
Yes, it is, thought Giles. Very good indeed. Splitting the last of the rich red between their glasses, Giles gestured towards the front of the house. “Shall we leave the dishes for now and retire to the sitting room? I’m not sure I want to move about much until I’ve digested for a bit. We can save pudding for after.”
Snape nodded and rose, wine already in one hand. Yet in the sitting room, he immediately sat the glass down to move towards the stereo. “I see you have a record player. My crash course in recent Muggle innovations seemed to indicate that they are not particularly popular anymore.”
Settling onto one end of the sofa, Giles said, “Indeed not. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that DJs still used them in nightclubs, I doubt you’d be able to even buy one.”
“Do you mind?” Snape waved his hand towards the records located underneath the turn table.
“Not at all.”
Squatting down to look more carefully at the collection, Snape began flipping through albums, giving grunts of recognition as he passed certain ones - Cream’s Disraeli Gears, The Who’s Tommy, Led Zeppelin II. He paused at the last and smiled.
“Good memories?” Giles asked, watching the other man’s profile.
“Simply that I used to sing ‘The Lemon Song’ when home for summer hols at age 16. It was certainly a heady feeling to sing about sexual activity without parental disapproval and to know I was achieving such by fooling him, being cleverer than him.” Snape’s countenance grew dark and troubled before changing to that careful neutrality Giles had learned meant he was hiding his feelings.
Giles suppressed a sigh, thinking, And just when things seemed to be going well. A change of subject is in order - something bound to cheer him. After thinking a few moments, he spoke, “The youth of today just want everything in bits and bytes - no sense of the bigger picture, no patience to allow something to build. The compact disk may have heralded the end of good cover art, but it’s this newfangled music download business that’s truly going to ruin the album.”
Pulling out an album with a rather psychedelic cover, Snape said, “There will never be another Days of Future Passed.”
Giles stared at Snape in pleased shock. I can understand familiarity with Zeppelin, but to know Days is a concept album? His youth must have been much more ‘Muggle’ than he lets on. “Precisely.”
Another few albums were flipped through before he shifted slightly to pull forward a box that had been placed behind the chair next to the stereo.
Ah, his collection. I wish I’d known it was there - I would have looked through it.
Rummaging for a bit, Snape finally raised a square of yellow and lurid pink. “Although it is arguable that song order was less of a concern with Never Mind the Bollocks.”
“Bloody well playing instruments was less of a concern for the Sex Pistols,” Giles snorted, “so song order certainly didn’t play much of a role in their creative lives. But then, that’s not what punk was about.”
“Indeed. It was anger and protest and change. A heady combination.”
Silence fell, Snape looking at the album cover, Giles looking at Snape.
In a decisive movement, the dark man slotted the pink square back into the moving box, shoving the entire collection out of sight again. “Nonetheless, I find I’m not currently in the mood for such things. Shall I put on the Moody Blues?”
“That would be perfect.”
And as the faint pops and hisses of empty vinyl grooves gave way to the opening strains of “The Day Begins,” Snape settled onto the other end of the sofa.
Perfect, indeed, Giles thought, taking another sip of wine.
AN: Here are the two most obvious lines in “The Lemon Song”: “Squeeze me baby, till the juice runs down my leg. / The way you squeeze my lemon, baby, I'm gonna fall right out of bed.”
Giles was born in 1954, Snape around 1959. While Giles stuck with late 60s/early 70s rock, I imagine that Snape knew classic rock and caught the first wave of British Punk in the mid-70s.
On to Chapter 6.
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, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4.
Disclaimer: Not mine; no money.
Thanks go to the wonderful firefly_124, who betaed for me and to the amazing saracen77, who Brit-picked. Big thanks as well to katekat1010, who made the gorgeous banner.
Chapter 5
The past week had been a blur. Snape had needed time to settle his affairs and move his required possessions to London. Giles could ill afford any more time away from Headquarters, so he had sent Paola and Ekat to assist, two Slayers more than capable of putting up with the man’s acerbic temper. As Buffy had said when she had picked them, “Those two don’t take sh- uh, guff from nobody, Giles. Not even me.”
He’d smiled. “Yes, well, I’m sure the kote gaeshi wrist lock Sasha placed on him only aided his respect for Slayers.” He had rubbed his own corresponding joint in lingering sympathy pain.
Only now said wrist ached for an altogether different reason. Dear Lord, could there have been more paperwork that needed signing? When do I become important enough to have a secretary able to forge my signature?
Scrawling his name across the bottom of the day’s final document, Giles leaned back in his chair and twisted his neck from side to side until he obtained a satisfying crack. Yet it eased the pain only somewhat - really it was caused by the ongoing tightness of his shoulders.
It had been the perfect time for wild Ugashkar demons to rampage through upper Mongolia, Billilongs to break through a portal in Texas, and warlock-summoned Krishnack demons to assault Sierra Leone. All right, perfect wasn’t the right word - when was it ever good to have demon outbreaks? - but really, in what other week would he have had the resources of both Buffy and Willow to help him personally?
While Willow remained in London to work with Snape upon his return, Buffy had no such official reason to stay. He suspected that her lingering had more to do with a voyeuristic intention to watch his supposed love life develop than the weak excuses of shopping and specialty coffee he’d been given. Because she hadn’t been to the shops on Oxford Street in a fortnight and had sipped Earl Grey with him as recently as this morning.
Yet the past week had also dragged interminably. Even with the excitement of assorted demons, shortages of corn flakes in the refectory, debates over whether the year twelve textbooks for maths were too remedial, and continued issues with the simulators, Giles had been bored. Or if not precisely bored, then anxious.
But such was about to change - if only to grow worse.
For Snape had returned to London today, settling into Giles’s home.
It had only made sense really. All the Council’s flats were full, and Snape did not yet have the means to obtain a ‘Muggle’ flat on his own. Besides which, Giles had plenty of room - soon to be more if Buffy and Willow didn’t stop snickering every time he offered such reasons for Snape moving in with him.
Giles checked his watch, again, before reaching for a Jaffa cake. Four thirty. The tea would be cold by now, but the familiar burst of chocolate, orange, and sponge across his tongue soothed.
Temporarily at least. He reached for another biscuit and another. Soon the plate was empty.
Bugger. His watch now only said four thirty-five. He stood. There was nothing for it - he was going to leave early for a change.
~~~
He returned home to a house strangely silent. “Hello?”
“In here.”
Entering the sitting room, Giles found Snape alone but for the book stretched across his lap. “Buffy and Willow?”
“They appear to have left for the evening. They said something about eating curry and watching films, perhaps two of such.”
“You’re not certain?”
He smirked. “They spent an inordinate amount of time grinning at each other and attempting not to laugh. It rather distracted from the verbal message.”
“I imagine it would if you’re not yet used to them.” Giles grinned and settled onto the sofa, spreading his arms along the back. This is much less awkward than I’d worried it would be. “And you? All settled in?”
Snape inclined his head. “For the most part, yes. I waited to consult with you on certain items I thought appropriate to place in the common areas - this room and the library for instance.”
“I’d meant to clear off a couple of the bookcases for you in the library. I’m more than able to move some of my personal collection to my office at Headquarters. In fact, it’s probably wise of me to do so in order to give more people access to key texts our library lacks.”
Snape gestured towards the book he’d been reading. “You do have some quite … interesting references here.” He almost smiled.
Yet Snape’s countenance grew abruptly more serious, his spine stiffening away from the rather comfortable back of the lounge chair. “But such pleasantries as this can be discussed at another time. I would like to converse about my financial commitments to this household.”
Oh, bugger. There goes the lack of awkwardness. Giles sighed and removed his eyewear to pinch the bridge of nose. “I thought we’d settled this.”
“No. You offered me lodgings. I accepted, saying I would pay my share.”
“And as I explained, the Council owns this house, so there is no lease or mortgage. The utilities and such are something I’m more than capable of covering.” He used the excuse of replacing his glasses to try and form the next thoughts as delicately as possible. “You’ve been out of work for a good five years. Can we not delay this for a few months at least?”
Looking as if about to leap from his chair, Snape leaned forward to sneer, “I will be beholden to no one.”
So much for ‘delicate.’ “Fine. As the bills come in, we’ll sort through them and divide them appropriately.”
Snape settled back, a smug look firmly in place.
“But,” Giles raised a finger, “whenever I have guests, I’m going to divide everything according to how many of them there are, and I will pay for their parts as well.” He raised another finger. “If I choose to buy a luxury food or wine, you’ll just have to consume it without any form of protest or payment.” A third finger. “And the same applies to furnishings or repairs. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly.” The growl matched the darkened expression Snape wore.
After sitting in tense silence for a stretched moment, Giles finally stood and moved to the drinks cabinet. “Whisky?”
“Merlin, yes.”
Giles allowed himself a grin since his back was to the other man. Pouring a good measure of Oban into each glass, he sipped at his even as he turned to give Snape the other.
The dark man set the book aside and grunted a thanks as his long fingers wrapped the glass, sighing with obvious relish upon tasting the first mouthful.
“Speaking of food and drink,” Giles said in a carefully neutral voice while resuming his seat, “is there anything in particular you fancy this evening?”
“I do believe that, before they left, the young ladies said something about ordering takeaway as a longstanding Muggle, moving-day tradition.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. “They left the appropriate brochures on the kitchen counter.”
“Oh, yes. There’s quite a good Italian place that does brilliant thin-crust pizzas, and the local Chinese takeaway isn’t bad either.”
“Pizza sounds intriguing. It has been years since I had it, and I was never quite sure that the Wizarding interpretation of it was very accurate. It does not seem that the toppings should be so … animate.”
“Well, this place is quite authentic. And I have a lovely bottle of Chianti that should go nicely. I’ll open it now to allow it to air.” Giles stood and gestured for Snape to follow before walking towards the kitchen. “In fact, we should also order their version of garlic bread - they make it with a thin crust that’s been drizzled with olive oil and topped with both rosemary and garlic. It’s utterly delicious.”
~~~
Buffy and Willow had suddenly discovered that London had ‘night life,’ spending the next five evenings in a row out. Their machinations were becoming so obvious that Giles had corned each of them at Headquarters this afternoon and asked them to make sure they were available for dinner on Saturday.
Yet today was Thursday, so he had this evening alone with Snape.
A Snape who could cook quite well, even without the aid of magic.
Spearing the last of the gnocchi in handmade pesto sauce, Giles raised it to his mouth and allowed himself the luxury of savoring its flavor. Opening his eyes, he observed Snape watching him, lips quirked in amusement.
“I see that Italian may truly be where your tastes lie.”
Giles took a quick sip of wine to clear his throat and said with a small smile, “You’ve sussed me out.”
“Good.”
Yes, it is, thought Giles. Very good indeed. Splitting the last of the rich red between their glasses, Giles gestured towards the front of the house. “Shall we leave the dishes for now and retire to the sitting room? I’m not sure I want to move about much until I’ve digested for a bit. We can save pudding for after.”
Snape nodded and rose, wine already in one hand. Yet in the sitting room, he immediately sat the glass down to move towards the stereo. “I see you have a record player. My crash course in recent Muggle innovations seemed to indicate that they are not particularly popular anymore.”
Settling onto one end of the sofa, Giles said, “Indeed not. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that DJs still used them in nightclubs, I doubt you’d be able to even buy one.”
“Do you mind?” Snape waved his hand towards the records located underneath the turn table.
“Not at all.”
Squatting down to look more carefully at the collection, Snape began flipping through albums, giving grunts of recognition as he passed certain ones - Cream’s Disraeli Gears, The Who’s Tommy, Led Zeppelin II. He paused at the last and smiled.
“Good memories?” Giles asked, watching the other man’s profile.
“Simply that I used to sing ‘The Lemon Song’ when home for summer hols at age 16. It was certainly a heady feeling to sing about sexual activity without parental disapproval and to know I was achieving such by fooling him, being cleverer than him.” Snape’s countenance grew dark and troubled before changing to that careful neutrality Giles had learned meant he was hiding his feelings.
Giles suppressed a sigh, thinking, And just when things seemed to be going well. A change of subject is in order - something bound to cheer him. After thinking a few moments, he spoke, “The youth of today just want everything in bits and bytes - no sense of the bigger picture, no patience to allow something to build. The compact disk may have heralded the end of good cover art, but it’s this newfangled music download business that’s truly going to ruin the album.”
Pulling out an album with a rather psychedelic cover, Snape said, “There will never be another Days of Future Passed.”
Giles stared at Snape in pleased shock. I can understand familiarity with Zeppelin, but to know Days is a concept album? His youth must have been much more ‘Muggle’ than he lets on. “Precisely.”
Another few albums were flipped through before he shifted slightly to pull forward a box that had been placed behind the chair next to the stereo.
Ah, his collection. I wish I’d known it was there - I would have looked through it.
Rummaging for a bit, Snape finally raised a square of yellow and lurid pink. “Although it is arguable that song order was less of a concern with Never Mind the Bollocks.”
“Bloody well playing instruments was less of a concern for the Sex Pistols,” Giles snorted, “so song order certainly didn’t play much of a role in their creative lives. But then, that’s not what punk was about.”
“Indeed. It was anger and protest and change. A heady combination.”
Silence fell, Snape looking at the album cover, Giles looking at Snape.
In a decisive movement, the dark man slotted the pink square back into the moving box, shoving the entire collection out of sight again. “Nonetheless, I find I’m not currently in the mood for such things. Shall I put on the Moody Blues?”
“That would be perfect.”
And as the faint pops and hisses of empty vinyl grooves gave way to the opening strains of “The Day Begins,” Snape settled onto the other end of the sofa.
Perfect, indeed, Giles thought, taking another sip of wine.
AN: Here are the two most obvious lines in “The Lemon Song”: “Squeeze me baby, till the juice runs down my leg. / The way you squeeze my lemon, baby, I'm gonna fall right out of bed.”
Giles was born in 1954, Snape around 1959. While Giles stuck with late 60s/early 70s rock, I imagine that Snape knew classic rock and caught the first wave of British Punk in the mid-70s.
On to Chapter 6.