Sew The Chicken
Part 2 - Guys With Things

written by Kim Wylie

The waitress at the pancake house asked, "Children or no children?"

Giles blinked. "Pardon?"

"Do you want to sit in the children section or non-children section?" she repeated.

It sank in. So did visions of sticky syrupy seats from previous occupants.

"Non-children," Giles said.

She led them to a booth with a seat that curved at the back. On the other side of the wall behind them was a large-screen television which they could hear despite the noise from the children's tables.

"Scooby Doo," Buffy said, listening.


"You wouldn't know it, Giles. It's something that came after 1901."

"Why did you choose here?"

"The food's great. Willow, Xander, Oz and I come here a lot."

That made him worry. He wasn't comfortable in such casual attire and didn't care to share it with anyone he knew. He glanced surreptitiously around but, thankfully, didn't see any of them.

"The sausage pancake combo is good. Xander and Oz always order it," Buffy said, pointing at it on his menu.

"I don't eat meat."

"Since when?"

Giles glanced up at her. "For some years now."

Buffy thought for a moment. "Wait, you eat pepperoni pizza when we order it at the library, though I'm not sure pepperoni really counts as meat."

"I take it off."

She eyed him. "I never knew that about you, the vegetarian part I mean. I guess I never noticed."

"It's hardly a big deal," he said, wondering about the persistence behind her questions.

The waitress came over. "Are you ready?"

"A big pot of tea," Buffy told her. She went to say something else, then looked at him. "Giles, would it bother you if I ate eggs?"

He hid a smile. "Eat whatever you like."

"Scrambled eggs and pancakes, please," she told the waitress.

"Waffles," Giles added.

The tea arrived first. Buffy poured out two cups, then leaned forward on the table and glanced idly around. "So, what do you generally do during the weekend, besides Watcher-stuff?"

"I don't have a lot of free time."

"Come on, Giles."

He eyed her curiously. "Catch up on sleep."

She scowled at him. "You must have hobbies, things you like to do."

"What's brought this on?"

"I don't know. Can't I show an interest in my Watcher?"

"You haven't in the last three years."

"There's that snark coming back."

"I'm sorry," he said, stirring his tea. The waitress had brought cream which he found too heavy for tea.

Buffy watched him take a hesitant sip before asking, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Giles replied.

"Then, we're off to hobbies. You look like a guy who builds model boats."

He smiled. "No, not a one."

"You don't have a woodburning set hidden away?"

"I don't have any hobbies."

"Everybody does," Buffy said.

Giles shrugged. "I don't have time."

She thought for a few moments. "You mentioned kayaking once and didn't you go camping recently?"

"Oh, yes," he mused, having half-forgotten.

Their food arrived. As the waitress put the plates before them, Buffy asked, "May we have some milk please, for his tea?"

Giles glanced at her in surprise. Buffy switched their cups as hers was still black, and started in on her eggs. He gave her a thoughtful look and was just reaching for his fork when he heard, "What happened to the tie, G-Man? Or is this your evil twin brother?"

He felt a sweep of disappointment to see Xander, Willow, and Oz beside their booth. As he was wondering where the feeling had come from, a twinge of irritation appeared, also out of nowhere, as the three squeezed into the booth, squishing he and Buffy in the back curve of seat.

"Day off, Giles?" Xander asked.

"Watchers aren't allowed days off," Buffy said, before he could open his mouth.

"School spirit. Cool," Oz murmured, looking at Giles' jersey.

"Rah rah," Xander added, then broke off as the waitress approached.

"I didn't know you were waiting for anyone," she said. "I'll get some menus."

"Don't bother with the menus. We'll just have our usual, please," Xander said, and reeled off a number of items that could have fed the soccer team twice over. Afterwards, he eyed Giles more closely and said, "No tweed, no tie, distinct lack of meeting with razor. Buffy, who is this guy?"

"My weekend date," she replied, teasingly nudging Giles' leg with hers under the table. "Definitely on non-active Watcher duty. This afternoon, we're going out to buy socket sets."

"Well, Wesley should be the one on-call, right?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"Yes, he should, though it gives me the willies to think of it," Buffy said, still moving her leg back and forth against Giles'.

Giles drank his tea while the others talked around him. No one mentioned that he hadn't said a word - in actuality, this morning he felt more out of place around them than he ever had before. It was more than the clothing. Something was making him uneasy somewhere but he hadn't yet pinned down what that something was. Buffy's leg against his was distracting as well and *that* was new. He rarely had physical contact with her, training sessions aside. They'd sat side by side on the library table once, and there had been the night outside the burning factory when she'd physically prevented him from returning inside. He'd cried in her arms though he wasn't sure she'd noticed over her own tears. Neither had mentioned the night and, since then, they'd returned to keeping some space of floor between them. Her kiss this morning had startled him, coming out of the blue. And, now, her thigh rocking against his…..what on earth was the girl up to?

When the rest of the food came, there was more shifting around to free up one end of the table for all the plates. Buffy ended up sitting with one side of her bottom on his hip and one leg between his. The press of her at his groin shocked and ultimately worried him. She was warm and wiggly and the smell of her raspberry shampoo overwhelmed the odor of the food.

"You might strain a ligament sitting like that," he said quietly. She grinned and shrugged.

Her leg kept moving, undulating her ass cheek against him, and, horrified, he felt himself start to erect. The loose sweatpants provided no restraint and, when he'd shucked his earthy clothing this morning, he'd shucked everything, including boxers. The merest bit of his fleece and the thin covering of her spandex was all that lay between her and him.

Fuck, he thought. He couldn't move away from her - Willow was at that side. He couldn't move in the seat - his back was already against the wall. He stared down at his cold waffles and desperately tried to think of kayaking or fishing, threading wire through the spool, baiting hooks, *anything* completely unrelated to the feeling of the girl in his lap.

It got him nowhere. He put a hand on her leg to stop her movement but it was already too late. She glanced down at the development of something hard under her bottom, then looked at him in amazement.

He knew he was red. He felt the burning right up to his ear tips.

"Should you sew that chicken in your pocket?" she asked softly, amusedly in his ear.

"Stop moving," he retorted, the full force of the anger apparent even in his answering whisper.

She favoured him with a challenging expression but complied. She poured out more tea for him before returning to her breakfast but it seemed to him that she was pressing even more firmly.

Damnable girl, he said to himself.

Xander abruptly cut into his thoughts. "G-man, you gonna eat those waffles?"

He glanced at Xander's plate, overflowing with sausages, bacon, and some concoction of omelets. "Yes," he replied, the first word he'd said to the Slayerettes since their arrival. He made an effort to eat his own food, swallowing grimly while he planned the severe lecture he would give to Buffy later.

He nearly choked when a new thought occurred to him. When they were ready to leave, how in bloody hell could *he*? He was developing an inflexible protrusion in his sweats that the jersey couldn't cover.

He was so deeply obsessed with it that it took several moments before he noticed that Willow was speaking to him. He glanced up, noticed everyone at the table except Buffy was staring at him, and asked, "Pardon?"

"Do you want more?" Willow repeated.

Buffy jiggled again. He swallowed and asked, "Uh…..more what?"

"Tea," Oz said, indicating the waitress who was standing by their table and also eyeing him.

"Yes, please. Another pot." Giles said, glanced at the profusion of nearly empty plates, and added, "But none of you have to stay. I'll take care of the bill. I'm sure you have plans."

"Actually, no," Oz said. "We seem to be plan-free."

"But it's the weekend," Giles said.

"It's the weekend in Sunnydale," Xander said. "The big fun suck-hole of the country. Amish have more fun places than we do."

"I hear those quilting parties get wild," Oz chimed in.

Willow laughed. Since she was pressed up against Giles' other leg, the vibration of it went right through his heightened state.

"Listen," Willow said suddenly. The table quieted. She said, "Scooby Doo's on the tv." She put a hand on Oz's. "Maybe it's the one with the werewolf."

He smiled at her. "Let's go see."

Fortunately, they took Xander with them. Buffy slid off his leg.

Giles glanced at her, still highly irritated with her unusual behaviour, and was about to start the lecture he'd planned when he caught her expression.

The teasing smirk had disappeared. She looked thoughtful and somewhat bewildered.

"Quite an eye-opener," she murmured.

"Was that fun?" he asked in a tight voice.

"I'm sorry, Giles. I couldn't help teasing you after that dream interpretation Willow gave you. And the clothing you're in also had something to do with it. But I think this is the first time I realized you're actually a, well, a guy under your five-hundred pieces of suit."

"The apology's not enough," he snapped. She glanced up in surprise, opened her mouth, but shut it when the tea arrived.

Giles asked for the bill. When the waitress left again, Buffy asked, "Giles? I really am sorry."

"Just go," he said.

"And leave you here to pout on your own?"

"I'm not pouting."

"Then what?"

He took a breath. "After that little game you just played, how the hell do you think I'm going to manage to walk out of here?"

She frowned. "I don't know what you mean. You just get up and--" It suddenly occurred to her. She glanced down at his lap and blushed. "Oh! It's kind of obvious, isn't it? Isn't there anything you can do?"

His furious look startled her back in her seat. The bill came and Giles pushed it over to her. "You have my wallet."

"Oh, right." She opened her fanny pack. Her face brightened. "I also have my sweater!" Buffy silenced when both Giles and the waitress looked at her. She extracted some money, waited until the waitress was gone, then took off her sweater.

"What are you doing?" Giles asked as her bare shoulders over an embarrassingly small tank top came into view.

"Hold this in front of you. I'll get it later." Buffy pushed his wallet and keys towards him and plopped the sweater in his hands.

"You can't walk around like that!"

"I always do. Haven't you ever noticed?"

His reply took a moment. "I don't notice Slayers in that way."

She shot a glance at his lap before getting up to join her friends in the tv room. "I'll get a ride in Oz's van."

He remained at the table for a little while after she left, taking controlled breaths as the tension eased. Then he did as she suggested with her sweater, got up, and left the restaurant.

* * * * *

"Now what are they saying?" Buffy asked. She and Willow were flopped on her bed, watching East Indian movies on the television.

"She's asking him if he will plant a tree with her and he's saying that he no longer plants trees due to a family tragedy."

"That makes a lot of sense," Buffy said, though it certainly didn't.

Willow reached for the bowl of popcorn on the side table. "Do you want any?"

Buffy shook her head. She rolled over to her back and twirled a few strands of her hair in the light.

"Do Slayers get split ends?" Willow asked. When she didn't get a reaction, she poked Buffy's shoulder. "You're quiet tonight. Actually, you were kinda quiet all afternoon too. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Buffy shrugged.

"But?" Willow tried.

Buffy craned her neck in order to look at Willow. "Do you ever think of Giles as a guy?"

"Well, he is a guy," Willow said, confused.

"I mean, a guy with… things."

Willow put the popcorn down and leaned against the headboard. "Things like what?"

"You know. Guy-things."

"Like socket sets?"


"That's what you said earlier, that you and Giles were going out to buy a socket set."

"Not those types of guy-things, Will. *Other* guy things, you know?" At Willow's face, Buffy added, "The things that make guys guys, as opposed to what makes girls girls."

Willow eyed Buffy dubiously. "Guy things which aren't socket sets?"

"Things that guys put in their jock straps."

Willow's eyes widened. "Oh! *Those* things."

But she didn't say anything else. Finally Buffy sat up and asked, "So, do you?"

"Do I what?" Willow asked timidly.

"Do you ever think of Giles as a guy with a thing?"

Willow fidgeted intensely. "I, uh, suppose he has, um, one of those because he's a, uh, guy."

Buffy dropped her voice. "Do you think he ever does, if he should need to… scratch his own itch?"

Willow looked like an embarrassed chipmunk suddenly finding itself in the middle of an ocean. "Ok. Deeply lost again."

"Do you think he ever, you know?" Buffy made a gesture.

"Makes taffy?" Willow asked.

"Masturbates. Do you think he ever does?"

Willow abruptly brushed at a non-existent piece of lint on her knee. "I--I--I--"

"All guys do, right?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know, but Giles is a--"


"But he's a--"

"A what?"

"Well, he's a, a, a librarian. I don't think they do." Willow gave up on the invisible lint and said, "It's hard to think of Giles in… that way."

"But he's got a guy thing," Buffy mused. "And every once in a while it would get, you know, needing to be scratched." She paused, then added, "I wonder if Xander ever does?"

Both girls suddenly laughed. "Dumb question," Buffy said and Willow gave her a sympathetic look.

"Do you think Oz does?"

Willow nodded, a little shyly. "He told me that he does." After a few seconds, she asked, "Do you think that Wesley…..?"

An image filled both their minds and they giggled.

"What about Snyder?" Buffy asked.

The giggles halted.

"Oh Buffy," Willow said, looking green.

"Big gag-reflex here too," Buffy said. "Sorry, Will. But that brings me back to my original question. Do you think Giles ever does?"

Soberly, Willow finally said, "Yes. Probably."

"You think so?"

Willow looked uncomfortable again but she pressed on. "He has feelings. I mean, he cares and worries and, well, we saw him kissing Miss Calendar that one morning through the library doors. Also, you train in there doing aerobics and, um, bouncing up and down and stuff. It's right in front of him and he is a, a man." She looked down, then added, "And that one Hallowe'en, remember you wanted me to wear that skirt of yours, the one that wasn't very long?"

"It was a mini-skirt, Will. And you put a sheet over it and went out as a ghost."

"I lost the sheet when all the weird stuff started happening. I went to the library and Giles… he looked. I'm sure of it. I think anyway. I startled him and he looked at me. He tried to cover it up and stuttered and acted all British but…..I'm just trying to say that he has feelings." She trailed off. Then a thought occurred to her. "Does this have anything to do with Giles' dream?"

"All that stuff in his dream had erotic meaning," Buffy said. "The key, the chicken."

"Is that why you're thinking about Giles doing, um, you know?"

"Yeah," Buffy shrugged. She rolled around until she could see the tv again. A woman in a sari was dancing. "I guess she gave up on the tree-planting."

* * * * *

Buffy tugged at her tee-shirt. She'd bought it on Sunday, an oversized sleeved cotton thing that fell down to mid-thigh. She was used to clothes that freed her up to move. She could certainly move in this, only it didn't go with her. It stayed draped over her like a tent, regardless of what she did.

She tugged at it again before going into the library and reminded herself that she hadn't bought it for her comfort. Willow's comment about 'bouncing up and down' had hit home. She could bounce all she liked under this, Buffy thought ruefully, and no males should be distracted.

Wesley looked up as she entered. "Ah, here for training. Good, good."

Buffy peered at him. "What are you doing?"

He had a blue garment in his hand and a needle and thread in the other. "I'm fixing a small tear," he said.

"Is sewing one of the skills you have to learn as a Watcher?"

"It's a valuable skill everyone should know, in case of a crisis," he replied in his crisp clipped tone.

"And the crisis this morning is a ripped shirt?" she asked amusedly.

"The mat is set up for you over there," Wesley said, not giving in to her teasing. He glanced at her, then did a double-take.

"New shirt," she said somewhat self-consciously.

"Ah," he said, by way of comment, and returned to his seam.

Buffy warmed up with stretches, casting a glance every few moments towards Wesley. He seemed absorbed in his task however. Usually he checked her movements or made a remark of some sort somewhere, and she wondered if her tent-like shirt was the reason for his decided lack of attention.

Irritated, she turned her back to him. When she finished the warm up and looked around, she found herself alone with the sewing kit.

"Geez, when men decide to ignore you, they really go all the way," she mumbled. She headed for Giles' office where she'd stored her CD player on Saturday, opened the door, and wandered in before realizing there was someone in there. Cordelia, in a slip and pantyhose, sat in Giles' chair, reading a magazine.

Buffy stared at her. Finally, vexed, Cordelia looked up and demanded, "What?"

"I guess I'm not the only one with a new look today."

"Larry and Craig were tossing a football by the front steps and ran into me. I caught my six hundred dollar dress on the rail! Wait 'til I get my hands on them!"

It suddenly clicked for Buffy as Cordelia added, "Wesley's sewing it for me."

"But Wesley isn't there," Buffy said and stood back to enjoy the gratifying sweep of indignation on Cordy's face.

"WHAT?" Cordelia stood, in full fury, and descended upon the library. "Wesley!" she yelled. "If you think this is some sort of joke, just wait until you feel *my* punch line!"

She muttered something else as she charged through the stacks, Buffy trailing happily. A few glorious minutes later, Cordelia stopped in the last row and glanced coldly back around her. Her eyes stopped at the last place Wesley could be, pounced forward, and barrelled in.

"*Where* is my dress?" Buffy heard as she followed on Cordy's heels.

Wesley whirled in horror from the urinal, mouth agape. "Cordelia!" he cried in a high octave, staring at her half-dressed state. He splattered his shoes, tried to stop mid-stream, tried to cover himself, swallowed, turned back to the urinal, and attempted to hide his exposed area again.

Cordelia watched, indignant, shameless. "And my dress?"

He spluttered. "It-it-it-"

"Better not be in your hand right at this moment."

"On the table," he managed.

She stalked back in the direction she'd come. Wesley unconsciously turned with her, staring at her scantily-covered form as she went out the door, and splashed the floor.

As he fumbled back towards the urinal, Buffy said, "Giles is going to be really pissed when he finds out you peed on his floor." She paused, aware of what she'd just said. "I mean he's going to be angry, not….." She stopped again when a incredibly severe look came over his face. "We're not going to have another discussion about my lack of respect for my Watcher, are we?"

"You should be training."

"And not watching." At the door, she couldn't help adding, "Do you want a mop?"

He was in no position to chase her out, had he been inclined to do so. Buffy sauntered back towards her gym mat and resumed her workout. Cordelia exited Giles' office a few moments later, dressed and looking unruffled.

"Can the boy sew?" Buffy asked, somewhat impressed with Cordelia's quick rebound to her usual poised demeanor.

"It'll do. He should have returned my dress to me before wandering to the bathroom."

"How incredibly selfish of him to take sixty seconds for himself first."

"It was," Cordelia agreed, not getting the sarcasm.

"Giles could have walked in on you," Buffy said.

Her indignation returned. "I wouldn't have cared about Giles but anybody else could have! Wesley needs to be spoken to. Where is he?"

"Probably getting a sponge mop. What do you mean you wouldn't have cared if Giles had seen you half-dressed?"

Cordelia, en route to the bathroom with fire in her eyes, muttered, "It's not like he hasn't before." She raised her voice. *WESLEY!*"

Stunned, Buffy stilled on the mat. When the library doors opened, she jumped a good foot.

But it wasn't Giles. Willow came over to the table and perched on the edge. "Hey, Buffy. What's going on today? Vampires? Spookables? Mutant zombies?"

Buffy took a long breath. "Cordy made Wesley pee on the floor and Giles saw her half-dressed. I am never wearing this shirt again. I don't care how much I bounce in front of Giles! He can deal with it himself." She paused for a moment. "Unless Cordy has been dealing with it for him." She shuddered. "Oh God, I didn't need to think that!"

Willow's smile faded. "Oh. I was making a joke because I didn't think anything was really going on and what did you say about Wesley?"

Read the next part: But Wesley Ate Those