Pairing: Buffy/Giles, a little Xander/Anya Rating: NC17 Spoilers: Through Conversations With Dead People, after which it goes pretty seriously AU. Summary: Giles is home for Christmas... or is he? Author's Notes: WARNING: While there is no rape, BDSM or pedophelia actually happening in this story, all these issues are discussed fairly frankly at some point in the proceedings. Dedication: To all my beloved Gilesdroolers on the GRB, GilesScribes, The Stacks, and WatcherGirls who make the job of owning and/or moderating on these lists so easy and such a joy. Special thanks to my always brutal and always wonderful beta, Rari, without whom my fic would be much less comprehensible on more levels than I care to contemplate. Whatever winter holidays you all celebrate, may they be joyous and peaceful. Giles looked up from his egg nog and sighed. Somehow, being home - in England - for Christmas wasn't making him happy. He'd expected to be lonely the previous year. After all, he'd barely left Sunnydale and his young friends then. He'd barely left his Slayer. His Buffy. This year, he'd actually had time to adjust to being alone. He'd gently helped Willow out of the nest months ago. And this time, he was actually getting phone calls from Buffy, Willow, and Xander on a semi-regular basis. Not as often as he'd like, it was true, but then, they were all young and impecunious. It wasn't as if they could afford to make overseas calls every day. Still, they called. They kept in touch. They even occasionally let him know they missed his presence for something other than advice and information gleaned from dusty old volumes. With another sigh, Giles returned to his annual reading of The Christmas Carol. It was a tradition he'd kept up from childhood. His mother used to read it to him when he was a boy, and, after her death, he'd found it comforting to read once a year, at Christmastime, as a way of staying close to her. Even in years when he couldn't be bothered to go to the trouble of getting and trimming a tree, he read the Dickens classic. This year he actually had picked out a tree and brought it home. It sat forlorn and untrimmed in its stand in a corner of the sitting room. He looked at it. It seemed to regard him with contempt. "It's another four days to Christmas," he reminded it. "Plenty of time." He knew he was lying. On Christmas morning, that tree would be every bit as bare as it was in this moment. After all, it wasn't as if there was anyone to see whether he was jolly for the holiday or not. He found his mind drifting back to Christmas two years ago. It had been such a lovely time. Buffy was at her strongest, emotionally as well as physically, and they had been truly close. Friends - with something unspoken hanging tantalizingly in the air every once in a while. Nothing either had ever acted on, and something neither might ever act on for any one of a million reasons, but still there was a hint of possibility that intrigued him. Joyce had been recovering from her surgery well. She had been bright and charming that day. They'd put the awkwardness left over from Ethan's band candy prank behind them once and for all. He'd finally felt Joyce was his friend. It seemed then that nothing would take her bright star from their lives. Xander and Anya had been together and happy. True, they argued, but the love they shared at that time was obvious. He'd assumed that they would find a way to deal with whatever issues came up between them. Anya had even begun to mellow into an acceptable human being. A blunt, occasionally unsettling one, but still someone he frankly enjoyed working with, as unlikely a scenario as that had been mere months before. Dawn hadn't known about her supernatural origin. She'd been able to be a normal, teenage girl with the ordinary interests of a girl her purported age. He wished she could have been allowed to keep her innocence longer. As for Willow, she was still the Willow he'd been so fond of since the library days. Brave, intelligent, quick-tempered, yet vulnerable, with no obvious sign of the darkness her heart could hold. And Tara. Dear Tara. Giles found he missed the gentle young witch with all his heart. She'd been so unsure of herself, and yet, in many ways, was the strongest one of the group. Her quick - if occasionally incomprehensible - wit and her brave, kindly heart had made her a favorite with Giles from an early point in their relationship. If there was anyone in his group of young friends he'd ever thought of as a daughter, Tara was certainly the one. She brought out his protective streak. He wished he could have protected her from Warren's gun. He wished he could have protected them all from what fate held in store for them. Giles shook his head and went to get another egg nog. This sort of self-indulgent mawkishness was something he couldn't abide in others. He really needed to get over it himself. And yet, he couldn't help wishing he could be with them all now - at least the ones who were still alive. For all he wished he could see them one more time, he knew it was best Joyce and Tara rested quietly in their graves. If nothing else, they had peace. It is the living who truly need one another. He thought again of Buffy, and of the something in the air he had felt so long ago. Truth be told, he'd felt it again when he'd come to fight Willow. He rolled his eyes when he remembered what he'd said to her: "you've cut your hair"! What a silly thing to say. Of all the meaningful, intelligent things he might have said, that was what had popped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. A puerile, schoolboy remark if ever there was one. He'd hardly been that awkward and ridiculous with Jenny. Well, if he was being honest, he had to admit he was even more ridiculous with Jenny. He laughed ruefully. He couldn't help remembering the time she'd convinced him for two heart-rending minutes that she'd destroyed his father's first edition of A Room With A View. As if a woman of her intelligence and warmth would have harmed his book with such cavalier unconcern. Still, her deadpan delivery had made him squirm desperately for a long moment. There had only been two women in his life who could play so skillfully with Giles' heartstrings. One was dead, never to return. The other had died twice, thus far, but hadn't yet let a little thing like that stop her. Perhaps after the New Year, he might take some time off from Council work and visit for a few days. Maybe see if that something in the air could be turned into something more concrete. He knew Buffy wasn't seeing anyone. Willow made a point of mentioning that fact every time they spoke. He wasn't sure how much his redheaded friend knew about his feelings, but she must have picked up on something. She certainly must have figured out he was attracted to Buffy. The fact that she kept tacitly encouraging him must mean she'd seen the something from Buffy as well. Or perhaps it was all simply wishful thinking. He tossed back the last of the egg nog. He considered having another cup. It would be a pity to waste it after he'd gone to the trouble to make it. Then again, he wasn't sure waking up to a hangover would improve his holiday mood. Then again, considering the mood he was in this holiday, could it really hurt matters? He'd almost convinced himself that another drink was what he needed when the doorbell chimed. Giles frowned in puzzlement. He wasn't expecting anyone, and few people came to visit him unannounced of late. The bell rang again, impatiently, it seemed to him. He put down his glass and went to the door. "Yes?" he snapped as he flung the door open. He took a look at his visitor. He stood amazed for a moment, then stood silently aside as she walked through his door and dropped her suitcase. "Hey, Giles," she said a bit shyly. "Surprise?" He found his tongue again. "Buffy?" "Yup, it's me," she said. "In the flesh, not an apparition or anything." "But... but how...?" "Well, in our modern world we have these things called airplanes," she explained. "I got on one, and then I got on this thing called a train, and then I took the bus and then I asked directions. I gotta say, the cops in this country? A lot more helpful than the ones where I come from. Of course, that could have something to do with the fact they don't know me and haven't ever found me leaning over a freshly killed person. That probably makes a difference. So... glad to see me?" "Of course I'm glad to see you," he assured her. He opened his arms and she moved into them gratefully. He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. "I've missed you," he said at last. "Me too," she said into his sweater, "missed you, that is. Hence the coming to see you." She drew back suddenly and searched his face. "It is okay, isn't it? Me dropping in this way?" "It's okay," he confirmed. "It's just unexpected. Which is why I ought to have expected something like this." "That's me, Unexpected Girl." She looked around her for the first time. "Nice place," she said. "Very you. It reminds me of the place in Sunnydale, only less Spanish influence and, I'm guessing, an actual door on the bedroom, since I don't see a sleeping loft." "No, no loft," he agreed. "I have privacy now, when I want it." Buffy nodded and smiled. She looked more closely at the room. "It's funny how much of this stuff I remember. You don't expect to see stuff you're used to when you go to a whole other country." She stopped, puzzled. "Nice tree. Is it an English thing to leave it all naked like that?" "No, it's more a matter of... lack of holiday spirit." "Well, we're fixing that right now," Buffy decided. "Lead me to your tinsel." "Ill make you a deal," Giles said as he leaned against the back of the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. "You tell me what you're doing here, and I'll allow you to decorate my home for the holidays." "Can't a girl just decide to come visit her favorite Watcher in all the world on a whim?" "When her job barely pays the mortgage, it's not the most productive of whims, is it? Buffy, I know there's more to this than a simple desire to spend some time with me. You'll save us both a great deal of time and trouble if you just tell me what's on your mind now." Buffy looked sheepish. "That's just it. It really is because I want to spend time with you. I... sort of need to spend some time with you. Something's coming. Something big. And right now, I don't have any idea what it is." Giles pushed off the sofa and removed his glasses. "I know," he said as he began to clean the lenses. "Willow felt it. Has she come up with any information on it?" Buffy shook her head. "Not enough by a long shot." "And you think I'll do better?" "It's worth a try. But that's not the reason I'm here." "And the rest of the reason would be...?" She looked him square in the face. "I don't know how this thing is going to play out. I have sort of a bad feeling about this one. Like I might not make it. Again. For real this time. Giles, I'm scared. Not so much of dying, 'cause, hey, been there, done that. But I don't want to die again without... without at least saying thanks." "Thanks?" "For all of it. For all the research and the spells and swordfighting and concussions and cracked ribs and Ethan slugging and pushing and nudging and everything you've ever done for me. I don't think I ever said it before. And if I did, it sure as hell wasn't enough." "And the reason you couldn't have said this over the phone or in a letter?" "That would have been pretty cold, I think. You deserve better. You always deserved better, but you got me. I wanted to do this right, and I wanted some quality Gilestime. I don't want to leave it the way it was last time. When the last memories you had of me were all about yelling and not listening to you. If it happens again - " "Why do you think it will? Buffy, have you had a - a dream or some sort of vision?" "I don't have to have a dream. I'm the Slayer and I'm almost twenty-two years old. In Slayer years, I'm already dead. But this isn't me giving up; it's just me wanting to cover all the bases for once. It's me not wanting to leave stuff unfinished." "What sort of stuff?" Giles had to ask. Buffy twisted her fingers nervously. "Any stuff. Especially Gilesy stuff. I want you to know - if anything happens - that I... I did really care. And I didn't mean to get so heavy right off the bat. I was thinking more presents, nog, mistletoe." "M - mistletoe?" "Relax, Giles, I was talking generalized mistletoe." She frowned for a moment. "And what would be wrong with mistletoe with me?" "I suppose I rather thought you'd object to mistletoe with me," he said quietly. "Not that I have any." "But you have lights and ornaments and tree trimming goodies, don't you?" "I even have egg nog, if you'd like some." "I'd like. Just a little, though. I'm discovering that booze and Buffy is a recipe for disaster." "You just need to learn to handle it," Giles told her as he poured her a cup. While he was at it, he refilled his own. One more wouldn't hurt, and it wouldn't do for Buffy to be drinking alone. "Taken in moderation, there's nothing wrong with the occasional drink." "Plus it's a festive part of the season." She took her cup, her fingers brushing slightly against his. Their eyes met and Giles felt the unspoken something in the air again. From her slight blush, he felt certain Buffy felt it, too. She turned quickly and put her egg nog on the table. "So, where are those tree trimming supplies?" Giles put down his glass, too. "I'll go get them," he said quietly. Buffy swore under her breath as she watched him go into another room. "Great job, Buff," she scolded herself. "You were supposed to be proving to yourself that it was all in your mind. Too many butterflies in the tummy for that to be true." She picked up her drink and took a small sip. It was surprisingly good. "Who knew Giles could make egg nog? Then again," she reminded herself, "he's good at languages, magic, swordfighting, making mental boo boos better, cross-referencing, Mayor skewering, library exploding, and cooking. What made you think he couldn't handle making a little glass of egg nog?" She took another, slightly larger, sip. "You know what it is," she continued to berate herself. "You just can't stand to think of him that way because it makes you all... not comfortable. It makes you have to take him seriously. It makes you see Giles the guy instead of just Giles the Watcher." She shook her head as she sipped again. "Great. So this guy who's been there for you practically nonstop since you were sixteen and has only hurt you a couple times - and then either because someone made him or because he was trying to do the best thing for the long run - and he scares you more than vampires or giant snakes or even a Hellgod. Maybe I'm out of my mind." She was pulled from her reverie by Giles' return. He set down the boxes of ornaments next to the tree and joined Buffy at the table. "There," he said. "Everything we need to deck the halls to your hearts' content." Buffy couldn't think of anything to say, so she took another sip of her drink. "This is seriously yummy, Giles," she told him. "You should bottle it. You'd make a fortune." He chuckled softly. "I'm quite comfortable as I am. People always want things of the rich. I prefer to be left alone." "Liar," Buffy challenged him. "The way I remember it, if I leave you on your own too long you go a little nuts." "I was on my own most of last year. Strangely, I was able to resist the lure of public nudity and necrophelia even without you to guide me." Buffy's eyes widened with hurt. Giles took one look and regretted his joke. Still, he couldn't help the exasperated tone in his next words. "That wasn't meant to be about you, Buffy," he explained. "Yes it was," she said tightly. "It was about me and Spike, but that's over. I told you. If I could change what I did last year, I would, but I can't. And I'm through apologizing. Anyway, you're the one who laughed at me about it. If it bugs you now, that's your problem." To her surprise, Giles didn't snap back or apologize. He smiled. A full-fledged grin spread across his face. His eyes twinkled merrily. "What?" Buffy asked suspiciously. "What's making you all Cheshire?" "You," he said "It's been far too long since you gave me a piece of your mind like that. And now I find I'm in a far more festive mood than I was before. Come on, let's trim the tree." Buffy shook her head. "Has anyone ever told you you're one seriously strange person?" Giles shrugged and continued to beam at her. "At least it makes a change from being called irretrievably dull and stuffy." "You're getting way too happy, Giles," Buffy teased him. "Has someone been selling you band candy again?" "Oddly enough, since my return, I've spent very little time with the local youths. There hasn't been that particular opportunity for disaster." He opened the first box and began to untangle a string of fairy lights as Buffy unwrapped the less electrical ornaments. "Afraid someone will think you're a total Humbert Humbert?" she asked. Giles stopped what he was doing. "What do you know of Humbert Humbert?" he asked in amazement. "I know he was a total skank who liked doing it with little girls. Especially his own stepdaughter. I kept reading and hoping he'd turn out to have like tentacles or something and it would turn out Lolita was a Slayer and had to kill him off. Not that she was any better. I mean, she was two-timing him with Quilty. That was beyond gross. I mean, couldn't they wait until she at least grew up?" "Let me get this straight," Giles said. "You've read Lolita? By Vladimir Nabakov? The novel?" He began to wrap the tree in lights. "Sometimes I wasn't all that sure it was a novel and not the Jerry Springer show, but yeah. I read it. Cover to cover and everything. Not like it was War and Peace. Lotita's shorter, for one thing." "And what prompted you to read this classic piece of literature?" Giles plugged the lights in. They sparkled merrily, making the little tree look happier than it had when Buffy arrived. "Well, you know what you said about my job?" Buffy asked as she reached over to check the effect of a glass icicle on the tree. "About how it doesn't pay much? That means we have to find cheap ways to have our fun. First run movies are out. So's cable. But a library card is free and Dawn's really into books. Thought I'd see what all the fuss is about." She adjusted a tiny holly wreath on its branch while Giles hung some ceramic candy canes. "And what do you think of them? Books?" "Well, I'm never going to become Miss Nose In A Book All The Time, but it's not so bad, this reading thing. I like books that have happy endings. Lolita did not have a happy ending." "No, it certainly didn't," Giles agreed. He placed a small wooden elf on the tree. "But it was a very good book, all the same." "So sue me," Buffy shrugged. "I like a Disney ending." "Then I suggest you avoid Anna Karenina." "What happens at the end of that?" "She throws herself under a train." Buffy made a face. "Ick. Russian?" She added an angel in a white dress to the tree. "Russian," Giles confirmed. "Do they ever write happily ever after stories?" "Not many, no." He leaned over her to put the star on top of the tree. He put one hand on her shoulder to steady himself. When he leaned back, he left his hand where it was. "Do you like it?" Buffy looked at his hand, then at the gold star. "Yeah. It's nice." Giles looked down as Buffy looked up. "I've always thought it was quite pretty," he said. Buffy wasn't sure why she blushed. In a sudden rush of nervousness, she pulled slightly away from him. "Um... do you think it needs any more? Ornaments?" Giles put his hand in his pocket and studied the tree critically. "Two more icicles and that tree is going to fall over," was his verdict. "I think we've finished it." Buffy picked up her egg nog and took another sip. She looked at Giles - really looked. For the first time, she fully realized what she'd been dancing around the edges of with him for so long. She made a decision. "Much nicer," she said. "The place looks almost festive now. In fact, I think there's just one more thing we need to do to make it look like Christmas around here." "What's that?" The nog returned to the table. Buffy rummaged through the ornament box and pulled something out of it when Giles was busy pouring another drink for himself. "Giles, put that down and come here," Buffy ordered. He raised one nervous eyebrow, but followed instructions. When he got to Buffy she moved closer to him. At the last moment, she grabbed a handful of Giles' sweater and hung a glass snowflake at nipple height. Before he could quite grasp what she'd done, Buffy gave a merry laugh and darted away across the room. Giles narrowed his eyes and smiled in a dangerous manner. He, too, grabbed something from the ornament box and took off after Buffy. For some time, she managed to elude him. In the long run, though, capture was her goal as well as his. A strong hand gripped her arm and nimble fingers attached the effigy of a plum pudding to her pony tail. She looked up at him, challenge in her eyes and a smile on her lips. She flushed at the expression in Giles' eyes, but held his gaze. He pulled her a little closer. Her hands went automatically to his chest to steady herself. His head moved lower. His lips almost brushed her ear as he whispered to her. "I'm not your stepfather, and I've waited a very long time for you to grow up." Buffy shivered with anticipation. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Her heart seemed to be pounding much faster than it ought to. "Giles," she said, "in Slayer terms, I'm ready for the rest home. If we wait anymore, we might not get the chance." "Are you sure about this?" Buffy looked at him seriously. "I want yes and I can take no, but I don't think I could stand to have this be a maybe anymore. So you tell me; are we gonna have our Disney ending?" He shook his head a bit sadly. "Nobody gets a Disney ending, Buffy. I think, however, I could provide a Disney interlude if you like." "How long is an interlude?" "That depends, actually." "On what?" "On how long you want it to be," he whispered, his lips mere millimeters from hers. "Always. I want it to be always. But there's only one way that can happen, you know. You have to come home." Giles pulled back a bit. His eyes were suddenly guarded. "What?" Buffy asked in frustration. "What did I do now?" "Nothing," he lied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Then why aren't we making with the smoochies? Do I have bad breath? Did I suddenly sprout an extra head I don't know about? What gives?" When Giles just turned his back, she took his arm and turned him to face her again. "I don't get it, Giles. One minute you're the king of seduction, and the next you won't even look me in the face. Will you please just tell me what I'm doing wrong? 'Cause two seconds ago, I thought we were about to get seriously couply, and now... I don't even know where you've gone." "Then take a look around you, Buffy," Giles told her. "This is England. This is my home. You've just ordered me to leave it again, thank you very much." He impatiently unhooked the snowflake from his chest. Buffy blinked in confusion. "Well, I don't see how we're going to get all happily ever after if we never see each other and it costs a fortune just to make a phone call. And it's not like I can pick up and leave the Hellmouth, even if I could leave my job and all my friends and uproot Dawn. I'm not really seeing another way, here. Somehow I don't think your buddies at the coven will be thrilled at the concept of poofing you over to Sunnydale every weekend for conjugal visits." When he didn't answer, she reached up and yanked the pudding ornament from her hair. Quite a few strands of long, blonde hair escaped from her scrunchie. She blew out a frustrated breath and tried again. "If you've got a better idea, hey, I'd love to hear it, but if you don't, then... can't you even try? For me? For us?" Giles closed his eyes and his brow furrowed in pain. "You think I haven't tried? I've given up my home for you not once, not twice, but three times. I've left England for you twice, and Sunnydale once. I've given up so many things for you, Buffy, and I did it gladly. But there comes a point... I don't know if I can do this for you. I'm tired of being uprooted, as you put it. I want to know where my home is. I'm too old to be traipsing across the planet at your whim." "Whim? You think I just woke up yesterday and said to myself: 'gee, I guess Giles is pretty much the only guy I know I've never tried to seduce, let's see if I can get him into bed and laugh at him'? Is that what you think? For the record, I wanted to take this a little slower and a lot more seriously than that. I've been doing my best not to think about this for a long, long time, now. I just finally decided if I want to be happy, then I have to stop running and finding substitutes for the man I really want to be with." "Substitutes? What do you mean by that?" Giles asked. "Hello! Riley? Spike? Total substitutes." Buffy moved to the sofa and sat heavily. She continued to fiddle with the Christmas ornament in her hands. "Not that I meant to do that... at least with Riley. I still feel kinda bad about that. Not that I'm exactly proud of the whole Spike thing, either." She dropped the ornament and covered her face in her hands. "God, what a mess I've made of everything!" Giles sat down next to her. He reached over inconspicuously and took the plum pudding from where it had landed on the sofa next to Buffy's leg, then placed both ornaments on the coffee table. "Why don't you tell me what you mean?" he asked gently. Buffy shrugged. She turned to face Giles with a self-deprecating smile. "You're gonna think I'm a complete ditz," she warned him, "but here goes. See... after the whole Graduation thing, I spent a lot of time thinking about you - and I know that didn't translate into spending a lot of time with you, so you can save that guilt trip. Took the cruise, bought the tee shirt. Anyway, Angel had just left, and I was hurting like hell over that. I wasn't ready to move on. Plus it's not exactly like you're always Mr. Approachability. By the time I started noticing that tingly feeling I got around you, well, so many things were changing. And there was the Humbert Humbert factor, too. You weren't my dad, but you were sort of the boss of me and so much older and you'd worked at my school... and I was eighteen. I wasn't ready to be with an older man who actually looked older. Not to mention the fact you'd slept with my mom. There were too many walls; too many things in the way. And it scared me. Really real things do that. But I started thinking, maybe after the Summer, when I got to be College girl, maybe you'd see I was grown up. I thought after a few months or so you might see how well I was doing and maybe be a little proud of me, anyway. So I tried to be what I thought you wanted. Then I came to you for help and there you were in your Hefsuit saying 'go away and quit bothering me, little girl' while Olivia ran around in just your shirt - and did she have anything on underneath that?" She paused and glared at Giles. "N - not that I recall," he admitted. "Buffy, you know I regret that more than I can say..." "Yeah, I know," Buffy said. "I get that now. But then, it just felt like I was never going to be anything but a stupid kid to you. I was still pretty confused about what I was feeling, so I didn't know exactly why it hurt that badly, but well... I got the message to leave you alone loud and clear and I listened - for once." "You just had to pick that moment," Giles teased her. Buffy rolled her eyes and gave a short, breathy laugh. "You know what they say; timing is everything, and my timing sucks big time. Speaking of which, just when I'm feeling extra vulnerable, along comes stinky Parker Abrams into my life - and out of it again before you could say 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am'. So that made two times I gave myself to a guy and woke up to find myself alone and unwanted. A joke. Little Miss Why Would Anyone Go There Twice. And you weren't taking me seriously, like you did back in High School. And Xand had a new job every week, and Will and Oz were totally joined at the hip - until he left. And she was so into the whole witch deal. And Anya came back for Xander. I was feeling pretty left out, myself. And before you can say it, I know I brought at least some of it on myself, but I wasn't the only one. It wasn't exactly like I wasn't getting the message that everybody had things going on that were more important than me. It took all of us to make things so bad that year. I think it's time the blame was spread a little more evenly. So, there I am. You're answering the call of the wild with a gorgeous supermodel type, Xander and Anya are thumping like bunnies, Will's in pit of despair mode forever after Oz, and then she won't tell any of us about Tara for months, and there's Buffy, the cheese that stands alone. None of my friends was really there for me anymore, my mom turned my bedroom into a warehouse for gallery leftovers, and of the two men I'm interested in, one is in LA and has this really inconvenient anti-sex curse, and the other is shacking up with Tyra Banks. I needed something that was mine. Someone for me." "Riley." "Yeah," she agreed. "Riley. I tried not to go there for a long time, even though a lot of me wanted to go there a whole lot. I was scared. And I think he was always a lot more into me than the other way around. The thing that really put it over the top and made me decide to try anyway was that he seemed to be a younger version of you." "Of me?" Giles blurted out. "What on Earth do you mean?" "Safe guy. Someone to look out for me and watch my back and slay the imaginary demons when I got through with the real ones. Someone who'd be there for me no matter what. Someone who could take charge when I wanted him to, but would want me to be my best, too. Plus, he was pretty cute and so tall he made me feel all girly. I like that. And I knew Mom would approve, and you guys all seemed to get along with him and he hunted demons, too. It was comfortable. Besides, I felt like I owed him." "Buffy, you never owed Riley anything except honesty." "Sure I did. I messed up his entire life. I destroyed his mission." "You saved humanity from an abomination." "I took away his Giles." She stood and began to pace the room. "Maggie Walsh was his mentor, his Yoda, his everything. Sort of like you are to me. I'm the one who told him she was nuts and had to be stopped." "She's the one who tried to kill you," Giles pointed out. "You could hardly keep that from him. And as I recall, he was singularly unsympathetic with your situation." "How would I have reacted if he'd told me you'd tried to kill him?" Buffy asked. "'Cause I'm not so sure I'd have been very supportive then, either. But that's sort of not the point. The point is, I made his world wrong and not safe and turned it upside down. He lost everything. All he had left was me." "Did he really have you, Buffy?" Giles asked. She looked at the floor. "Not really, no. What's more, he knew that better than I did. You know how not self aware I can be when I put my mind to it. So, I took a perfectly nice guy and turned him into a psychobunny, all because I wanted the safe guy who wouldn't get in my way." "I don't recall you telling him about how to find a suck house. And he's the one who left while your mother was in hospital." "And it was all about getting through to me," she countered. "You know the whole time I was with him, I never once cried in front of him? I never let him in; never really committed to him. Not all the way. And I never once said I loved him - well, not to him, anyway. I said it to Angel, but I was really, really pissed off with him at the time. I just wanted to hurt him. I couldn't lie to Riley like that. And see what it did? That was really successful." "So you think Riley has no responsibility in this? He chose to do those things. He chose to stay despite the fact he knew you weren't in love with him. He chose to pay vampires to suck his blood. He chose to leave you when you were vulnerable and blame it on you." Buffy looked at him narrowly. "And I know somebody else who did the same damn thing," she said quietly. "Not the suck house thing, but the other. Glass houses, Giles." "No it's bloody well not the same," he returned vehemently. "Riley left because he didn't feel needed; because he wanted you to lean on him whether you needed to or not. I left because of the unhealthy way you were leaning on me. It was that or let your needs destroy us both. You were using me, Buffy. I don't blame you at all. After what you'd been through, what had been done to you, there was no way I could expect you to be yourself. It felt as though I was tearing my heart out, but I left anyway. I knew it would be difficult for you. I knew you would make some painful mistakes, but if I stayed and tried to help you, I would only have made matters worse. Riley left because you couldn't weaken yourself to meet his needs. I left because staying would have allowed you to be weaker than you are. I knew you would never become the strong, independent woman you are if I stayed and let you be a little girl." He stopped and ducked his head in embarrassment. "Sorry. I've had that on my chest for far too long. And, while we're being completely honest, I must admit I didn't want to feel like Humbert Humbert, and I was beginning to, a bit. I wanted to be with you. Lord help me, but I was actually jealous of Riley for a very long time." "And Riley was so busy being jealous of Spike that he never noticed you were the one I was spending all my time with," she added with a lopsided smile. "Which brings us to the question of why the hell you chose Spike as a substitute for me," Giles reminded her. "I must say, I'm not flattered by the comparison." "You shouldn't be," Buffy admitted. "But somehow, after I got back and before you got back, he sort of became my safe person. I couldn't tell Will and the others what they'd done to me. I couldn't tell Dawn and make her think I didn't want to be with her - which I didn't and she knew it, but I didn't want to say it. I wanted to protect her. So I was busily trying to protect everybody and Spike wasn't part of the gang and he was always there. He was the only one who seemed to actually care about what I was feeling. Maybe he did care, I don't know. Then you got back and I thought I was safe again. But you were always pushing me to do stuff I couldn't handle - or at least, I thought I couldn't. And you looked so thrilled to see me - like someone gave you your heart back on a silver plate - I couldn't tell you I wanted to be gone. And I didn't think I deserved you. Not when I hated my friends for bringing me back. Not while I couldn't cope with Dawn. But Spike was always there, and I didn't care what he thought of me. And he still wanted me, even knowing what a complete mess I was. And I wanted to feel." She went silent for a long moment. "Feel what?" Giles prompted at last. Buffy shrugged and toyed with an ornament on the mantelpiece. "Anything," she said bluntly. "Anything at all. Love, hate, anger, disgust, pain, humiliation, it didn't really matter to me. And if it was Spike who made me feel it, I could pretend I didn't care. I could pretend it wasn't going to happen again; that I didn't need it. That I didn't want it. And I could pretend it didn't matter that I was using him as much as he was using me. I could have used you that way. I knew if I asked it of you, you'd be there for me. And you have no idea how much I wanted it to be you who made me feel something. If I'd put my mind to it, you would have crumbled. You would have slept with me. You would have let me use you and never said a word about it." "Then why Spike?" Buffy returned to the couch and sat next to Giles again. "Because it would have killed us both and you know it. There would have been too much guilt, too many real emotions, too much regret. Too much love. And that love would have turned to hate. It had to be someone I hated already. Someone whose respect didn't matter to me. Someone not you. Someone who would make me feel like I was getting the punishment I thought I deserved. And hey, it's not like Spike didn't know the real score." "What are you talking about?" "I kissed him once, to shut him up. And you know why?" Giles shook his head. Buffy continued. "Because he said he'd always wondered if we were sleeping together. You and me. He knew about me and him. And we hadn't... yet. But he knew I wanted to. With you." Giles breathed a slightly bitter laugh. "Spike is far too perceptive on occasion," he said. "Do you remember the dreadful row we had the night before we fought Adam?" "Not something I'm gonna forget in a hurry," Buffy said with a wry smile. "I'd like to, but I can't." "I don't believe I ever told you what Spike said to me that day, did I?" "Sure didn't. Like I've said, you're not one to overshare. So, are you gonna tell me now while we doing the true confessions thing? 'Cause I've always wondered." "He told me... he said you didn't need me; that you thought I was a useless, ridiculous old man. That you had no place in your life for me. Lord, but that hurt! I've never reached for the whiskey bottle that quickly or that enthusiastically before. Or since. I dealt better with your death than your neglect." Buffy smiled sadly at him and took his hand. "I'm not neglecting you now. And I don't think I'm using you. I want to be with you, Giles. I want to give myself to you - the good and the bad. I'm ready. I guess the question is, are you ready?" Giles stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "I honestly don't know," he said. "Buffy, please understand, I want to be with you. I've wanted it for so long, I don't know quite what to do now it's being offered to me." Buffy stood and joined him. "You say yes," she said. "You take me in your arms and say yes." "And I forsake my home, yet again, to follow you. Is that it? I pack my bags once more and return to the land of eternal bloody sunshine?" "If I could leave Sunnydale to be with you, I'd sure as hell consider it at least," she said. "We'd talk and decide which is best. But the way things stand, I can't come here. So yeah. You need to decide whether you're ready to pack up and come with me. I know it's not fair, but it's all we have. And if we get together, it's not a one night stand situation. This is the real deal, Giles. Love. I'm so in love with you it hurts sometimes. This is huge and scary and there's no turning back from this. So what do you say?" Giles pursed his lips and ran his hand back through his hair. Buffy watched nervously as he went through his repertoire of gestures designed to denote frustration. She wanted desperately to break the sudden silence between them. Her imagination conjured up satisfying images of throttling Giles or kicking him in the butt until he gave in and agreed to come back to California with her. Instead, she bit back her temper as best she could and waited for him to make up his mind. Buffy sat with her fingers twisting together. Giles knew what that meant; that she was doing her best to remain patient when her last nerve was on the verge of shattering. Her eyes were wide and sad. Half of him wanted nothing more in the world than to take her in his arms and kiss her until her eyes were bright again. The other half wanted to send her away and go drink himself into a stupor. While he was making up his mind which part of himself to listen to, the phone rang. Cursing under his breath, he went and answered it. "Yes?" he said sharply. "Rupert," came a cheerful voice on the other end of the line, "Mary and I were just going down the pub, and we thought you might like to join us." "Ah," Giles said. "Well, I'm not sure, Donald. I have a guest." "Bring her along!" "How do you know my guest is a woman?" Giles countered. "If it was a man, you'd have told me who it was," Donald said. "Come on, old man, have a drink and some dinner with us. If you don't come, you know Mary and I will invade your home when we're done just to get a look at your fair visitor." Giles sighed and looked over at Buffy. "We've been invited out for dinner and a drink," he told her a bit peevishly. "Don't you want to go?" Buffy asked. "We're getting nowhere fast with our talk, so this taking a break thing might not be such a bad idea. Besides, I'm hungry and jetlagged and we've both had booze. Let's eat. We can talk again when we're in better moods." Giles glared at her, but had to admit Buffy was right on all counts. He turned his attention back to Donald. "We'll meet you there. The usual place?" "Right. I'll have a pint waiting for you both." "Make ours a half, Donald. We've been at the egg nog here. Oh, and make Buffy's mild." "Buffy? She's really called Buffy?" "I'll see you in about twenty minutes." He could hear Donald chuckling as he rang off. He turned back to face Buffy again. "Did you want to get cleaned up before we go?" "Yeah," Buffy said quietly. "If I'm gonna meet your friends, I better look a little nicer than this. Overseas flying does nothing for my skin, it turns out. Anyway, my hair's a mess now." "Sorry." "I really didn't mind," she told him with a sad half smile. "How's your sweater? I didn't make any holes, did I?" Giles looked down at his chest, then raised his eyes to hers. "Not in my jumper, no." Buffy blinked. "Jumper? What, you're wearing girl's clothes now? Please tell me you don't have a Catholic school girl uniform in your closet, 'cause that would be so wrong." Giles chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry, I meant my sweater. We call them jumpers over here." "Oh. One of those cultural things, huh? Y'know, I always used to think America and England spoke the same language." "We very nearly do," Giles said. "Variations on a theme, as it were." "Yeah, I know. Just sometimes I wish it wasn't so varied. Between the culture gap and the generation gap it's a wonder we can talk at all sometimes." She went to the door and retrieved her suitcase. "So, where's a bathroom in this place?" "In there, on the right." Giles pointed down a small hallway. "Give me five minutes to make myself gorgeous and we'll be on our way." As Buffy headed down the hall, Giles picked up his egg nog. He raised the cup, then put it down again before he could take a sip. He moved to sit on the sofa. Then he leaned over the coffee table and picked up the abandoned plum pudding. One long golden hair still clung to the hook. For a moment, he considered removing it. In the end, however, he just touched it lightly, then slid the ornament into his pocket. * * * * * More than half an hour later, they walked into the pub together. Buffy coughed and waved some of the smoke away. "I'm sorry," Giles said. "I ought to have warned you. There aren't so many anti-smoking laws around here." "Hasn't anyone heard of second-hand smoke in this country?" Buffy groused. "And how much good does it do if I kill off the vampires when everybody's so busy killing themselves with cigarettes?" "Buffy, things are different here. Get used to it." "I wasn't planning to stay long enough to do that. My flight home is in two days. I told Dawn I'd be back for Christmas. Promises to keep." "Look, just try not to give Donald a difficult time over his smoking, will you?" Giles asked. "If I don't give Spike grief over that, I'm not gonna do it to a total stranger, Giles. Anyway, my cranky mood is all your fault; what's your excuse?" "Your 'five minutes' in the bath which turned into twenty minutes might have contributed," he said. Buffy glared, then turned to survey the room. In a corner, she saw a plump, middle-aged couple waving Giles over. "I take it they're your friends?" Buffy said. She looked up at Giles. She blinked. In place of the sour expression he'd worn a moment ago, his face was wreathed in a large and genuine smile. Unlike so many of the ones she'd seen over the years, this smile didn't disappear almost before it began. It took her mind a moment to process the fact that he was crossing the room and make her own legs move. By the time Buffy caught up, Giles was already shaking hands with Donald. A second later, he had kissed Mary's cheek and turned to introduce Buffy. "Donald and Mary Knight, I'd like you to meet Buffy Summers. Donald and I were at school together, Buffy." "Really?" was all she seemed able to say to that. From Donald's generous waistline and nearly bald head, she'd assumed he was far older than her Watcher. "And where did you meet Rupert?" Mary asked. "Um... actually, at school, too. My school. In California," Buffy stuttered. "Which I didn't own. I just went there. But now I work at school." "Buffy was a student when we met," Giles interpreted. "Now she's a guidance counselor. She helps troubled kids get back on the right path." Buffy couldn't help the warm glow she felt at his obvious pride in her accomplishment. Nor could she help the embarrassed flush on her cheeks at her own inane ramblings on the subject. "Well, I couldn't have done it without Giles," she said. She mentally slapped herself. 'God! Cliché much?' She tried again. "He's been a big influence on me." "Obviously," Donald said with a twinkle in his eye. "He's never been this late meeting us before." "My bad," Buffy confessed. "I'm a little jetlagged. I only got here a couple hours ago." "Oh you poor dear, you must be done in," Mary clucked in a motherly tone. "D - done in...?" "Tired," Giles interpreted. "Well a decent meal and a bit of time with Rupert should put you to rights," Donald said cheerfully. "What'll you have, Buffy?" "Have? Um, how about a menu for starters?" "Would you like me to choose something for you, Buffy?" Giles asked kindly. "This place makes an excellent Shepherd's Pie." "I dunno," Buffy replied. "Is it made with real shepherds or is it some sort of... mock shepherd?" The other three at the table laughed heartily. Buffy did her best to come up with a sincere smile, but she felt left out - as if she should know the joke since she supplied the punch line. The heat rose in her cheeks again. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Did you need the loo, Buffy?" Mary asked her. "Huh?" "It's right over there." Mary pointed to the sign for the bathroom. "Oh, that, no," Buffy said. "It's just... long flight. I've been sitting so much, it's a little uncomfortable." Giles took pity on her. "We could play a round of darts while we wait for our order," he suggested. She took the out gratefully. "Sure," she said as she almost leapt to her feet. "Just don't cry when I win." "I believe I can keep my emotions under some form of control in that unlikely circumstance," he returned dryly. Giles went to the bar to get the darts. Alone with Donald and Mary, Buffy felt suddenly very shy. She smiled uncertainly at them. The older couple smiled back at her. "So," Mary asked, "how long have you and Rupert been together? Where has he been hiding you?" "Hiding...? I haven't been hiding. I've been right there in Sunnydale all the time. And we're... not... I don't think... or maybe..." she trailed off uncomfortably. "It's all sort of up in the air." Donald shook his head. "Don't tell me Rupert's losing his touch," he laughed. "Touch...?" "With the ladies. He's a terror." "Now don't frighten the poor thing," Mary scolded. "If he's a bit shy it's a good sign he's serious. The more he cares, the harder it is to get him to commit." Buffy took a moment to process that piece of information. "So if he's all Mr. Cool I'm So Smooth, it's probably just a fling?" "I'm afraid so," Donald said. "And," she said, "if I found him... say... practicing pickup lines on a chair - just as a for instance - that would mean he was really into the woman?" Donald and Mary smirked at one another. "I would say that was a very good sign, indeed," Mary assured her. Buffy's heart sank. Giles had never asked a chair to go out with him in her name. She jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Giles. He gestured with the darts toward the board. "Shall we?" She smiled tightly at him. "Yeah. Let's go." "Have you ever played before?" "I think I might have once at a party in college." "You think?" Buffy shrugged. "I don't really remember all that much of the party," she admitted sheepishly. "Like I said: booze and Buffy? Bad idea. But I know there was a dartboard and the next day everyone was talking about my great aim, but there were no broken windows or anything, so I'm guessing I won the darts championship. If it was something else, I don't think I want to know." Giles laughed and shook his head. "Sounds a bit like my first darts game with Ethan." "You were drunk?" "Um... stoned, actually. I'm not sure I hit the board at all that night. At least I didn't hit any people. I *think* that would have been mentioned." "You got high? What on?" "Do you know how to play, or shall I remind you, now you're sober?" Giles asked blandly. Buffy glared. "You always do that," she grumbled. "Do what?" "Weasel out of telling me stuff about you. I don't like it." "Do you want my entire history with illicit substances or do you want to play the game?" he asked in a tired voice. "I think I've had enough confessions for one night." "But I was the one making them all," Buffy protested. "You hardly told me anything compared to what I told you." "Aim for the center of the board," he said as he handed her the darts. "Well duh!" she muttered disgustedly under her breath. She was just about to throw the first dart when she stopped and turned back to Giles. "Your friends don't know who I am, do they? That I'm the Slayer." "No, they don't. They don't know what a Slayer is - or a Watcher, for that matter." Buffy nodded. "Okay, they won't find out from this," she assured him. "But I'm still gonna wipe the floor with you." She readied her dart, concentrating on finding the right level of strength, accuracy, and ordinary human ability that would win the game while convincing those around her that she was just another girl. She just thought she'd found the right mix when her concentration was blown by Giles brushing his fingers down the back of her neck. She shuddered and let fly. When she opened her eyes, Giles was grinning wickedly and her dart had imbedded itself in the wall, fully a foot from the gameboard. "I thought you knew how to play," he taunted her. She handed over the rest of the darts with a glare. "Maybe I don't like this game as much as I thought," she said. "I gotta go to the bathroom anyway." Buffy stomped off to the bathroom. Giles looked after her retreating figure as long as he could see her, then blew out a frustrated breath and returned to the table. He dropped heavily into his chair and took a long pull at his lager. He looked up from it to find Donald and Mary both staring at him in confusion. "What?" he snapped. "Excuse me," Mary said frostily as she stood. "I think I need the loo." She moved past her husband and marched to the bathroom. Giles glared at Donald, challenging him to say something - anything. He wasn't disappointed. "You're a good friend, Rupert," he said as quietly as he could while still being heard over the din of pubnoise, "but sometimes you really are a birk. What the hell are you playing at?" * * * * * Buffy leaned back against the sink with her arms crossed over her chest. She concentrated on keeping her breathing steady. The last thing she wanted was to be caught crying in a foreign bathroom by some total stranger. She wondered what had happened to her perfectly organized plan. Go to Giles, talk to Giles, bring Giles home. It had all looked so easy when she was sitting in the airport waiting for her flight. Of course, there was something she hadn't counted on: Giles. Every time she thought she knew what he was thinking, he wasn't. Every time she had him pegged, he moved the pegs. Or - worse yet - the holes they went in. She let out a growl of frustration. Why did men always do this to her? Heroic Angel turned into a monster because of their love. Riley seemed so stable - so dependable - until he suddenly became the least stable person she'd known. In Buffy's life, that took some effort. Spike careened madly between worst enemy, staunchest ally, confidant, blackmailer, lover, would-be rapist and goodness only knew what else. And not one of them could pull the rug so quickly and effectively out from under her feet as Giles could. Did love always cause this much disaster? Was it even worth the effort? How much better off was she with Giles playing this disturbing cat and mouse game with her than she was when she and Spike were manipulating one another and rutting in equal measures? She blinked hard. Crying wasn't going to solve anything. No matter how many tears she shed, it always came back to the same thing: Buffy, the cheese that stands alone. "Is it so much to ask that I have somebody to stand with me?" she asked nobody in particular. "I'm feeling kinda lonely here." She started and turned to the mirror to pretend she was just fixing her hair when the door began to open. "Buffy?" Mary asked. "Are you all right?" "Yeah. I'm okay." Buffy wished her voice didn't sound so brittle even to her ears. If she was lucky, maybe Mary wouldn't notice. "Bollocks." Okay, so no hope of lack of observation there. "Maybe not, but I will be eventually... I think," Buffy said. Mary looked sympathetically at her. "I don't know what's got into him," she said. "I've never seen him act this way before." "Well, he's never had me throw myself at him before. That makes normal guys go nuts. I guess it makes strange guys... even stranger." Buffy turned back to the mirror and gave herself a hard look. Her shoulders slumped. "Maybe I should just change my plane tickets and go home early. Without Giles." "You're telling me you came all the way from California just to take Rupert back again?" "I know, I know," Buffy moaned, "on the dumb idea scale of one to ten this rates about an eighty seven, but I missed him so much." She dropped her gaze and shrugged her shoulders. "I should have known that was the last thing he'd want. It just never occurred to me... I didn't think... and that's nothing new, is it? Not thinking is too much of a way of life for me." "What is it you didn't think about?" Mary asked. "This," Buffy wailed gesturing at her companion. "You, Donald, this bar, his bedroom with a real door on it, and egg nog and darts and all the stuff he didn't have in Sunnydale. All this stuff he has in his life that he has to give up if he comes with me. All this stuff he shouldn't have to give up for me. He wants it more than me, doesn't he? It's not like I was the chair." "You weren't the...?" Mary blinked in confusion. After a moment, she understood. "Oh," she said compassionately, "there's another woman, isn't there?" "No... I mean yes... I mean, there was, but it was a long time ago and it's not like I was interested then. Anyway, she's dead. Giles was crazy about her. She was the chair woman. Miss Calendar." She stopped and really looked at the expression on Mary's face. "And you didn't know anything about her, did you?" * * * * * "What is it you want of the girl?" Donald asked as he stubbed out one cigarette and reached for another. He paused to light the new one. "Who is she, anyway? I know you said she was a student of yours, but that doesn't explain what she's doing here... or the way you're behaving." "You wouldn't believe me if I could tell you," Giles said sullenly. "I shouldn't worry about it. I imagine she'll be on her way soon enough." Donald shook his head. "I don't understand you, Rupert. If I was single and had beautiful twenty-year-olds throwing themselves at my head, I'd bloody well make use of the opportunity." "You never had beautiful twenty-year-olds throwing themselves at you," Giles retorted with a small, sardonic smile. "I saw Olivia the other day," Donald said casually. "Your name came up and she went pale. I know something happened between the two of you when you were living in America, but she wouldn't tell me what ended it. You never have, either." "How is Olivia? Is she well?" Donald shrugged. "Well enough. She's living with a chartered accountant in Surrey. I got the impression you frightened her somehow." "Did you?" Donald took a long drag on his cigarette. "Don't play the innocent with me, Rupert," he admonished. "We've known one another too long for that. I know you have secrets you don't tell anyone - and I'm not asking you to tell me anything you don't want to or can't. But if you're being such a bastard because you're keeping secrets from Buffy, you'd do well to just tell her as much of the truth as you can." * * * * * Mary smiled wryly. "Rupert isn't one to tell his secrets," she said. "I've known him for almost twenty years and I still think I know practically nothing about him, sometimes. Oh, I know the things anybody might learn, but not the man inside. He's not easy to know." "Tell me about it," Buffy returned ruefully. "I mean, yeah, flappy cuffs and mushy peas and the world's most enthusiastic glasses cleaning... I know all that. And book loving and computer phobia and sarcasm and how he likes to dress up in funny costumes given half a chance..." "Hang on a bit," Mary interrupted. "Rupert goes in for fancy dress?" "I'm guessing you didn't know that," Buffy said. "If it helps, I think it's sort of a recent development. But the inside stuff... he pretty much never talks about that. God! I've been such an idiot! I spent all our time today talking about me and my issues and my stupid past with guys and I barely let him get a word in edgewise, did I?" She began to pace the bathroom all the while berating herself. "God, it's just like Webs said. I've got this whole superior inferiority complex deal and I don't listen to anyone at all. I don't listen to Giles. Maybe that's why nobody stays. I'm just this great big ball of conflicting mental problems. I bet some of them don't even have names. I probably make Sigmund Freud look sane. No wonder Giles doesn't want to be with me. Why would anyone want to be with me?" When she turned back, she found Mary smiling indulgently at her. "Have you quite finished convincing yourself you're unfit for human society?" Buffy shrugged. "Not like there are a lot of people who would argue the point." "Then let me," Mary offered. "From what you said about your - what was that? A superior inferiority complex? - I would guess that you've spent a great deal too much time talking to a psychology student who hasn't finished his course. Am I right?" "Depends on what you call too much time. A couple hours, I guess. He was majoring in it. At Dartmouth. But he's not anymore. He's dead now." "Like the chair woman?" "Sort of?" "Buffy, I'm going to ask you something and I'd appreciate an honest answer." "Shoot. If I can, I'll answer it." "Do you know anyone who's still alive?" * * * * * "If I just share, everything will suddenly be wonderful? Is that it? Open up my heart and let the sunshine in? You know it doesn't work that way." "Have you ever tried it?" Donald countered. Giles finished his lager. He rose and gestured to the bar. "Same again?" he asked. "Ta," Donald replied handing over his glass. "But you didn't answer my question." Giles glared at his friend and stalked over to the bar. When he returned he lifted his glass and drank deeply. As he returned the glass to the table, he found Donald giving him a passable rendition of Willow's 'resolve face'. He sighed. This wasn't going away until he said something. "Look, Donald, I can't tell you... well... far too many things, really. I appreciate what you're trying to do but it's just not on. Now let it go. Please." "Rupert..." "No, I don't want to talk about it anymore." "And I can't make you? Christ, you sound like my kids now," Donald grumbled. "I thought you were more mature than that. At least I have the hope that they'll grow out of it." "In my experience, stubborn children grow up to be stubborn adults." "You'd know, wouldn't you?" Donald snorted. "We've known each other since we were ten years old and I've never known anyone who could dig in their heels the way you do." "Then you don't know Buffy," Giles sighed. Donald nearly choked on his drink. "Good lord, Rupert, surely you're joking?" "I only wish I were," Giles mused as he traced a pattern in the condensation on his glass with one fingertip. "She's stubborn and thoughtless and quite the most damnably infuriating woman I've ever known." Before Donald could think of an answer to the charge, the waitress arrived with the food. "I wonder what's taking them so long," Donald said with a nervous glance toward the ladies' room. * * * * * Buffy smiled sardonically. "I guess that sort of depends on your definition of alive," she quipped. "But yeah, I still know a few people with actual heartbeats and stuff. Not enough, but some." "So... you've had some losses in your life?" "You could say that. I'm pretty much down to my little sister, a couple friends, my boss and Giles. And Spike, but I really don't want to go into that right now, so just forget I mentioned him, okay?" "And with Christmas coming you were feeling lonely?" "Lonely doesn't begin to describe it," she admitted. "But if I was just lonely, I could find a guy without going to anywhere near the time, effort and expense of this little jaunt. I even know someone who'd probably be thrilled if I turned to him, but I already tried that and it was... badness. Beyond badness. Major, major suckage and wrongness and... not rightness. It's Giles I want, and nobody else will do. But that becomes a point of mootness if he doesn't want me. I'd sort of have to let go then. And I didn't mean to go all Oprah on you. Sorry." "While I'm not quite certain what you mean by that, it sounds to me as if you needed someone to talk to," Mary observed. "And it may surprise you to hear this, but I think that's exactly what Rupert needs, too." "Which I'd be happy to do if he'd talk to me," Buffy grumbled. "Every time I try to get him to say something - anything - about what's going on in his head, he totally blows me off. It's not easy to get him to really talk. And I'm tired and hungry and I look like hell and I think I made a big mistake coming here at all." "I doubt that," Mary said. "If you love him he deserves to know. Even if nothing comes of it, at least you'll have tried. Now why don't we go back out? Our dinner has probably arrived, and I know Donald will be worrying about us by this time. You'll feel better with a good meal in you. And if this is what hell looks like, it's not as bad as people say." Mary got an odd sinking feeling when Buffy turned large, sad eyes to her. "It is as bad as they say. Trust me." Buffy took a deep, centering breath. "Okay. I'm ready. Let's eat." * * * * * "Should I go get them, do you think?" Donald asked. "Of course not," Giles said. "Women never like to be rushed when they're in the toilet." "Mary hates it when her chips get cold." Giles rubbed his chin and sighed. Donald put down his fork and smiled at his friend. "Ready to tell me why you're acting this way?" he asked. "I only wish I could," Giles said. "I'm sorry, Donald. I know I'm not fit company tonight. Perhaps I ought to have stayed home this evening." "You mean you think Buffy ought to have stayed home, don't you?" Donald corrected. "Why don't you want her to stay with you? It's clear she's mad for you, and you haven't called a woman 'infuriating' in that tone of voice since Chloe Henshaw. I thought you were never going to get over her." Giles actually chuckled at that. "Chloe... lord! I wonder whatever became of her." "Divorced. Two kids. Gone badly to fat. She's in banking now. Went strangely quiet when I mentioned you were back." "Chloe? Chloe with the tattoo on her... she's really in banking?" Giles sputtered. "She was going to be a singer." "You think I don't remember?" Donald chortled. "You used to make me sit through all those crap songs you wrote for her to sing." "Don't remind me," Giles groaned. "Self indulgent wanking." "I've still got the one you were working on when she left so suddenly." "Do the world a favor and burn it, will you?" "No chance! I'm saving it in case I ever want to blackmail you." Both men were giggling when Buffy and Mary returned. Giles looked up apologetically at Buffy. Her nod and slight smile let him know he was forgiven, but he could tell from the set of her shoulders there would be words on the subject later. For now, though, they decided to let the matter rest and enjoy dinner. * * * * * Giles unlocked the door of his flat and ushered Buffy in. She moved slowly past him, unbuttoning her coat as she went. Giles watched with growing trepidation. A quiet Buffy was likely to be a dangerous Buffy. He finally decided to break the silence that had enveloped them since they left the pub. "Look, Buffy," he began. "I'm sorry about... well, about how I behaved earlier. It was inexcusable, I know..." "No," she said in a slightly distracted tone. She turned and looked sympathetically at him. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry, Giles. I had no idea what it was like all that time." Giles blinked. "What... what was like? I don't understand." "Giles, I sat there tonight with no idea what to say - or even what was going on most of the time," Buffy explained. "You and Donald and Mary... you have this - this language -" "It's called English." "It's called best friend shorthand." Buffy corrected him. "It's called 'we've known each other forever and we grew up in the same place and we don't even think about how someone else doesn't know this stuff'." Giles looked at the floor and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry," he said. "We didn't mean to exclude you." "I know. But you did. And I just figured out that's what Will and Xander and I all did to you for years. We didn't mean to, either. That's what this has been all about, hasn't it? It's not about where you live; it's about fitting in. It's about having someone get your jokes and care about the things you care about. It's about having someone know who you're talking about when you say the name of some politician or sports hero or actor. I get that now." She shrugged off her coat and hung it up next to his, then took his hand and led him to the sofa. "So," she asked, "what do we do about this? What do you want, Giles?" "That's just it," Giles said with a breathy chuckle. "I find I want it all. I want you and I want England and I want to be useful and I want the quiet. And I know I can't have all of it at once. Life simply doesn't work that way, does it?" "Not the last time I checked," Buffy returned wryly. "Look, it's late, I'm jetlagged, we've both had too much to drink; maybe now isn't the best time to make a big decision. Let's get some sleep and we can talk about this again in the morning. Besides," she added with a wicked grin, "I need to consider the consequences of being with you a bit more carefully." "Consequences...?" Buffy rolled her eyes. "Giles, I think Donald knows what happened to every woman you've ever dated. He talked about meeting up with - what? - like five old girlfriends of yours and every one of them turned completely boring and gets freaked when they hear your name. I'm not so sure I want to risk ending up as a waitress in a truck stop who runs around in circles clucking like a chicken when she hears the name 'Rupert Giles'. And you know what happens to my old boyfriends, don't you? The way they all go nuts and run away?" "They don't all..." "Giles, Angel moved to LA and decided to reform Faith, of all people. Riley moved to South America and married Mary Poppins with an uzi. Spike went somewhere I don't even know about and gained his soul only to lose his marbles. Even Scott Hope came out of the closet and moved to San Francisco." "Scott Hope? I don't remember him." "I dated him for about a nanosecond my senior year. Remember? The slug who dumped me right before Homecoming?" "Is that what led to your temporary insanity?" "One of the things," Buffy said. "And I remember how supportive you were; how you never doubted I'd be Homecoming Queen. It meant a lot." "Well, I wasn't precisely unprejudiced in the matter." "You were precisely wonderful about it, even though you didn't understand what all the fuss was about." She stood. "But, like I said, it's late and I'm out of it. This is not the time to get into heavy stuff. Do you have a guestroom, or am I camping on the sofa?" "No, please, take the bedroom," Giles fussed. "I'll be fine out here." "You sure about that?" Buffy asked. "'Cause I'd be okay out here." "I... um... I want to think a bit before I turn in. It's easier to think when I can move about." "If you're sure," Buffy said. "This is you last chance before I steal your bed until I go back to Sunnydale." "I'm sure." "Okay, it's your back. Just don't pace all night, will you? I don't want to find any holes in the floor when I come out here in the morning." "I'll do my best to leave the floorboards intact," he assured her. "Let me just get you some fresh sheets." As they made the bed together, they chatted of this and that. They teased one another about foibles they'd known since the library days and ones they'd discovered in one another in later days. The feeling was intimate and sweet. Buffy found herself imagining this as a regular activity she and Giles might share. Her cheeks grew warm at the idea. She glanced shyly up to find Giles looking at her, also a bit shyly. He ducked his head suddenly and Buffy had to smile. Maybe he would ask a chair named Buffy to go out with him after all. * * * * * Despite his promise, Giles found himself pacing the sitting room at one in the morning. He'd worked so hard to have a life of his own and once again Buffy had come along and turned everything upside down. It had been lovely to spend the past year conversing with people who knew the colleges at Oxford and cared about who won the boat race. It had felt comfortable to spend an evening over a pint with an old friend arguing the relative merits of their local MP's. Here he could make references to the general tackiness of Blackpool and be understood. And he didn't have to explain the lure of mushy peas and spotted dick to people who hadn't grown up with these delicacies. He had to admit it was also comfortable to be in a land where he didn't feel so at sea with the local customs. Buffy and her friends had been forced to spend an inordinate amount of time explaining hip-hop and IHOP and the social pecking order of American teenagers. He'd been bewildered by their casual references to people and things he'd never heard of. Buffy had once told him not to 'Scully' her and he'd later asked Willow what a scully was. The fact that he hadn't even realized it was a proper name still embarrassed him. Though, to be truthful, it was more likely the memory of why Buffy had begged him to be straight with her that was so painful. He sat and rubbed his hand over his chin in frustration. He didn't want to leave England. He didn't want to leave his old friends when he'd only just found them again. And yet... There were so many things he couldn't talk to his English friends about. He hated having to censor his every speech so they wouldn't learn about vampires and Slayers and Watchers. He could hardly tell Donald that the reason all his ex-girlfriends avoided all mention of their time with him like the plague was that every one had ended up in the middle of something supernatural that frightened them too much to stay. At least with Buffy, that wasn't a problem. Giles smiled to himself. Buffy would never end her days as a neurotic truck stop waitress. Nor would she move in with a chartered accountant or take up banking. And even if she did, she would be more likely to remember her time with him with anger than fear. No, Buffy would never - could never - be boring even if she set her entire mind to it. True, she didn't understand all his references anymore than he understood all of hers. But at least she was trying. She'd wrinkled her nose when she discovered shepherd's pie was lamb, made a few complaints about eating anything that cute, and then tried it anyway. She'd even decided it wasn't bad. Nothing, however, could get her to appreciate mushy peas. Buffy was very much of the opinion that if peas turned out mushy, they'd been cooked wrong. And despite all she'd said about not understanding any of the conversation with Donald and Mary, she'd actually contributed several comments that showed she knew more than she thought. Obviously, she'd listened to some of what he'd said over the years. Giles sighed and went into the kitchen. He plugged in the electric kettle and pulled down a mug from the cupboard. It was one Buffy had given him. When she'd used his Kiss The Librarian mug to feed Spike, she hadn't known it had been a whimsical gift from Jenny. When she found out, she went and got him a new mug as an apology. It read 'Librarians Do It By The Book'. Every time he looked at it he had to smile. As thoughtless as Buffy could be, she was also capable of great generosity and affection. With a sudden determination, Giles unplugged the kettle and replaced the mug in the cupboard. He was at the bedroom door when it occurred to him that Buffy might not appreciate being woken at one thirty in the morning to hear his decision. Perhaps he should try to get some sleep and talk to her in the morning. He'd just turned around to tiptoe back to the sofa when the door opened a crack and there stood Buffy in her pajamas. "Hey," she said. "Oh... um... hello," he returned. "Is... um... is everything quite all right?" Buffy shrugged and yawned. "Couldn't sleep," she said. "You?" He smiled and ducked his head. "Wearing holes in the floorboards, I'm afraid." He looked shyly at her for a moment. She blushed in return. "Would you - I could make some tea," he stammered. "That'd be nice." He smiled and turned his gaze to the floor again. He caught sight of her toes and frowned. "Buffy, are you too cold? Shall I turn up the central heating?" "Huh? No, I'm fine. Why?" "Your toes, they've gone blue." Buffy giggled. "Nail polish, Giles," she explained as she waved her fingers under his nose. "See? I've got it on my fingernails, too. I like to be colorful." "I can't imagine you any other way." They moved to the kitchen. As Giles plugged the kettle in again, Buffy pulled down two mugs from the cupboard and found the tea. Giles watched her move swiftly and efficiently around his kitchen. He had to smile at how comfortable, how familiar this felt. When she looked up, she smiled back at him. "Sorta like old times, isn't it?" she said wistfully. "You, me, tea. I missed this." "I've missed it, too," he admitted. "Tea just hasn't been the same." "I know." The kettle began to whistle just then. Giles unplugged it and poured the water over the tea leaves to steep. Buffy put the pot, mugs, milk, sugar and spoons on a tray and carried it out to the coffee table. They settled next to one another on the sofa and sat back to wait for the tea to be ready. "So," Buffy began when the silence had stretched out longer than she liked, "I don't actually see any holes in the floor. Does that mean you figured it out in time not to wear it out, or does it mean you were still thinking when I couldn't sleep?" "I believe it means that this is a very sturdy floor. But yes, I had finally come to a conclusion." He leaned forward to pour the tea. Buffy watched him nervously. When he handed her a cup, she did her best to smile and not slap him. She managed. Barely. The frustration was really beginning to get to her. Instead, she put the cup down. "Do I get to hear what you've decided before the next ice age hits?" Giles barely paused pouring his own tea. He put in the milk and a dash of sugar. At last, he put the tea down and sat back on the sofa regarding Buffy. "Do you know," he began, "I think this past year has been the first one I've lived for myself since that wretched time with Ethan?" Buffy's heart sank. She could feel it pushing against the ends of her toes, trying to escape onto the floor. Why would he want to come back to her pushing him around when he'd just gotten free? She blinked back her tears and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. "I've even enjoyed... being my own man for once in my life," he continued. "I don't have to answer to anyone about where I go or what I do. I've been able to look up old friends, do as I like, see whom I please. No particular responsibilities, no apocalypse, no emotional crises or spells gone awry. Apart from my enforced summer vacation with Willow - and I'm glad I was able to help her; to help all of you - I've been free for the first time in my life. I haven't been running from anything, nor have I entangled myself with dangerous companions. In a word, it's been... peaceful. I don't want to give that up." Buffy was certain if she looked at the floor she would see not only her heart but quite possibly all her vital organs oozing out onto the floorboards. There couldn't possibly be enough disappointment and misery contained in one tiny pump to cover this pain. Still, she did her best not to give in to the tears. Giles deserved to have her be happy for him - or at least not make him feel guilty for wanting his life more than he wanted her. She took a gulping breath and nodded. "It's okay," she choked out. She tried to say more, but couldn't move a sound past the lump in her throat. At last she just nodded and stood. When she tried to make a hasty escape to the bedroom, she found strong, warm fingers holding her hand. "I haven't finished," Giles told her quietly. "Please, sit down." Buffy obeyed him. She was surprised when he didn't move his hand from hers. "My life this past year may have been peaceful, but it hasn't been very full," he said. "And do you know what's been missing?" Buffy shook her head. Giles pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "My heart. I left it with you in Sunnydale. And I rather think it's time I went to stay with it, don't you?" "But... but... I... what about best friend shorthand?" Buffy stammered. "Donald and Mary aren't the only people I have verbal shorthand with. And ours doesn't include automatically excising any reference to vampires and the darker forces. It's been lovely, pretending to be an ordinary person who doesn't have any inkling of these things, but it's not who I am. I find myself now making reference to American things that my friends here can't follow. And if I'm off to America to follow my heart rather than following prophecy, I can tell my friends where I've gone and how I can be reached." "So... you don't have to completely give up everything about England?" "Buffy, I'm English. I shall always carry a little of my homeland with me." "But you're coming home with me?" "I'm coming home with you." This time Buffy couldn't hold back the tears. Giles scooped her into his arms and held her on his lap as she cried. * * * * * It was past noon when Giles woke the next day. He turned his head to find Buffy nestled up beside him in his bed. Giles smiled. It had been too long since he'd woken up with a beautiful woman. He promised himself that the next time he woke up next to Buffy, it would be after they made love for the first time. As if compelled, he reached out one hand to caress her bare arm. Her skin was so soft, so smooth. He couldn't resist leaning over to drop a kiss on her shoulder. Buffy made a pleased sound as she stirred. "Hey," she smiled up at Giles. "You're awake." "At long last." "We did have sort of a long night," Buffy said as she wound her arms around his neck. She ruffled the curls at the back of his neck, delighting in the small shiver that ran down his spine at the sensation. "But I've already been up." "And what have you been up to?" "Shower, breakfast, this and that." Giles rolled atop Buffy and did his best to look sternly at her. He failed miserably. "You showered and you didn't wait for me?" he complained. "Think of all the water you wasted, you wicked girl." Buffy giggled as Giles ravaged her throat with kisses. "Somehow I don't think water conservation would have been high on the agenda," she laughed. She pulled him up for a proper kiss. They both groaned when the phone rang. "If it's a telemarketer, can I slay them?" Buffy pled. Giles just chuckled as he rolled off her and hurried to the sitting room, barefooted and pajama-clad. She watched him go, a happy smile playing about her lips. A moment later, she rolled off the bed and pulled new clothes for the day out of her suitcase. * * * * * "Yes, hello?" "Rupert, it's Donald. Just wanted to make certain all is well after last night." Giles smiled. "Yes, I think I can safely say everything is as it should be today." "Bloody hell, Rupert!" Donald exclaimed. "Already?" "I'm not entirely sure I take your meaning, Donald." "Mary was sure you and Buffy would work it out before too long, but neither one of us predicted it would be so soon." There was a pause on the line. "When are you going back to California?" "As soon as I can arrange it." Donald sighed. "I had the feeling as soon as I laid eyes on her. 'That one can make him do anything', I said to myself. And you always did like a bossy woman. Dammit, Rupert we just got you back and now you're off again. If she wasn't so obviously head over heels for you I'd be pretty annoyed with her about now." "I'm not leaving tonight, Donald," Giles reminded his friend. "And perhaps you and Mary can visit us sometime. Sunnydale's... not such a bad place, actually." "When you first got back you said Sunnydale was Hell." "I've had time to reflect since then." "What you've had is a gorgeous bird half your age come and throw herself at your feet." "Oh, not my feet," Giles chuckled. "Never my fee - " He blinked as he looked down. "My feet. Donald, would you mind terribly if I rang you back later?" "Meet us for a drink tonight," he urged. "About seven." "I think that might be arranged." Giles hung up the phone and stared down at his toes again. "Buffy!" he roared. "What is it, sweetie?" she called innocently from the bedroom. "What the hell have you done to my toenails?" He glowered as she sauntered into the room, still brushing her hair. "Now they match mine," she explained. "I think they look cute all blue." "So part of your 'this and that' this morning consisted of varnishing my toenails as I slept?" "Repeat after me, Giles: po-lish-ing," she grinned. "Varnish is for furniture. And yeah. I thought at first you'd wake up pretty quickly, but you slept right through it. You look pretty adorable when you're asleep, did you know that?" Giles pursed his lips, but couldn't quite keep from laughing. "Whatever shall I do with you?" he wondered. "Well," Buffy pouted, "I can think of one or two things we haven't done yet that couples do. Things that might tire me out so I don't decide to do your fingernails, too." Giles pulled her close and kissed her deeply. When they broke apart to breathe, he cupped her cheeks in his hands. "I adore you, Buffy," he told her. "Everything about you captivates me. But if you ever do that again, my revenge will be swift, terrible, and completely unexpected." She giggled and nestled closer to him. "It was a one time thing," she promised. "I just... I wanted to do something to show you're mine. And that I'm yours. Like when I used to wear Angel's jacket, but more... us. Something for both of us, so we match. And the nail polish was right there... and your toes were so darn cute... I couldn't help myself. And you'll be wearing shoes anytime anyone else might see us, so it's not like I'm making the world think you're into wearing dresses or something. This is just for... us. Or me, anyway." "Are you that uncertain of me?" Giles asked. His sad voice distressed Buffy more than she could say. "No," she assured him. "No. If there's any man on this planet I trust, it's you. I just... I have sort of a lousy track record." "As do I," Giles reminded her. "But look at it this way, Buffy: all the others dated you and then left. I've already got that out of my system. I'm coming back to you so we can be together." "And I promise not to freak and go be someone boring," Buffy said. "Besides, I already did the go try to live a boring, normal life being a waitress and not slaying undead evil things thing. I came back, too. I came back to you." Lost for words, Giles wrapped Buffy in his arms and held her close. * * * * * They spent the next couple hours engaged in small domesticities. Buffy made lunch while Giles showered, shaved and dressed. After lunch came a quiet discussion of the more practical aspects of Giles' return to Sunnydale. This was quickly followed by a bit of happy daydreaming mixed with long, slow, exploratory kisses. "So," Buffy said at last as she drew lazy circles on Giles' chest, "what time are we meeting Donald and Mary?" "About seven." "It's three now. How are we going to fill up all that time?" "Why don't you come up with something for tea?" Giles suggested. Buffy frowned. "Am I gonna be stuck doing all the cooking now? 'Cause I may just start listening to you the way I used to when we first met. You know, the kind of listening that isn't." "If I promise you breakfast in bed tomorrow, will you take care of tea while I go down to the shops?" "What shops? There's shopping and I'm not invited? You are so not making any points here, Giles." "It's just... there are a few necessities I find I've run out of. I'll be back in no time." She pinned him to the sofa and pouted down at him. "But... shopping. Pretty things." Giles chuckled and kissed her quickly. "It's no good pouting," he told her. "And you wouldn't find many pretty things where I'm going. But, if you're very, very good, I might bring you back some chocolates. Would you like that?" "Chocolates? Really?" "Really," he confirmed. "Okay, I guess," she decided grudgingly. "But it better be good chocolate." She started to move off his lap, but Giles pulled her closer and kissed her passionately. As their tongues mingled, Giles moved his hands a bit hesitantly until they rested on Buffy's posterior. "Are you sure you need to go shopping?" Buffy purred as she wriggled her backside to increase the pressure of his caress. "Very sure," Giles groaned. With a kiss, he lifted Buffy off his lap and stood, pulling her into another tight embrace. "I'll be back as quickly as I can." "I'll be waiting," Buffy assured him. Giles gave her one last kiss, grabbed his coat and headed out the door before he could change his mind and carry her to the bedroom. * * * * * This time when they got to the pub, Buffy had Giles' arm slung casually - but posessively - around her shoulder. When she looked up, he was wearing a smile that made his face practically glow, and she knew hers was a perfect match for it. Donald waved them over and rose to kiss Buffy's cheek when they got to the table. "So you're taking him away from us, are you?" he asked in a slightly regretful tone. "'Fraid so," she apologized. "I'm selfish that way." "Well I, for one, am delighted for you both," Mary said. "You'll have the usual?" Giles asked his friends. "Sit down and put your money away," Donald ordered. "This is my round. Buffy, what would you like?" "Well, I saw something about cider," she said. "I could go for some of that right now." Giles leaned in and spoke quietly to her. "This isn't what you're thinking, Buffy." "What? Not hot appley goodness?" "Well, it is made from apples and it will warm you, but no, it's not what you're used to." "So, it's something with a kick?" "Yes." "Is it something you like?" "Every now and again, yes." Buffy shrugged. "Then that's good enough for me. I'll give it a shot." Donald headed for the bar and Buffy stood. "I gotta... y'know," she said pointing to the restroom. "For real, this time. I'll be right back." She shot Giles an adoring look, then headed off. He watched her go with a small smile on his face. When she was out of sight, he turned back to find Mary smiling indulgently at him. "I like her," she said. "I'm glad. She's... a rather extraordinary person." "Spoken like a man in love," Mary laughed. "Just be happy, Rupert. And make her happy, too. I get the impression there hasn't been enough joy in her life." "What did she say?" "It's not so much what she said as how she said it," Mary explained. "And part of it was what she didn't say. Call it a mothers' intuition, but I can tell that girl has had far more than her share of loss and misery. She deserves some good times. And so do you." Giles took Mary's hand across the table. "I only wish I didn't have to leave you and Donald behind. It isn't easy to go, but it's what I have to do. He's not happy about this, is he?" "He's jealous," Mary said, "but you'll never get him to admit it. You know how Donald is. Everything's a joke, but underneath he's bleeding quietly. Still, he'll survive, and he'll be happy for you. If it's any help, I'm already more pleased than I can say." "Take good care of him, Mary," Giles said. "I'll miss you both more than I can say." Buffy returned and slid into her seat next to Giles. She wrapped a hand around his arm and rested her head on his shoulder briefly. "Should I be asking what you two are talking about, or should I just assume it's me?" she asked. Both women grinned when Giles blushed a bit and ducked his head. Before either could tease him, though, Donald arrived with the drinks. The rest of the evening was spent joking and laughing with Donald and Mary. If there was a slight undercurrent of sadness, nobody commented on it. Eventually, though, the evening grew late and Mary suggested they call it an evening. Buffy, who had been leaning sleepily against Giles for the past half hour attempted to protest, but it was of no avail. As they gathered up their coats and scarves against the chill December night, Donald asked Buffy if he could speak to her privately. When they got to the corner, Donald looked seriously at her. Buffy braced herself for a lecture on the age difference between her and Giles and accusations that she was doing him irreparable harm by taking Giles back to California. Instead, Donald smiled softly at her. "It's all right, Buffy. I'm not going to eat you, you know," he said. His eyes turned serious. "Look, Buffy, Rupert is my best and oldest friend, and he's a good man. You can trust him with your life." "I do," Buffy said. "I have for a long time." "But there are things in this world he doesn't know about," Donald continued. "Things that... you may not believe exist. I want you to be careful of them. Don't take foolish chances and don't let Rupert take them, either." "Um... okay," Buffy said. "What things?" "You'd think me daft if I told you." "No, I wouldn't," Buffy protested. "And not just because I don't know what that means. Whatever it is, it sounds bad, so I couldn't think it. About you." "It means insane," Donald explained. "Oh. Well, if it helps, I don't think you are." "I hope you won't think this presumptuous of me," Donald said as he rummaged in his pocket, "but I've got something I'd like you to have." He pulled a small, tissue-wrapped package out of his pocket and handed it to Buffy. "Happy Christmas, Buffy." Buffy turned the package over in her fingers several times. At last she looked at Donald quizzically. "Thanks," She said. "I didn't get you anything. Sorry." "Go on," Donald urged. "Open it." With only a moment's hesitation, Buffy did as she was told. Inside the tissue paper, there was a gold cross on a delicate chain. "It's beautiful. Donald, I can't take this..." "Yes you can and you will," he told her in no uncertain terms. "I don't know if you're religious, but even if you're not, wear it. It'll do more good than you know." He patted her shoulder awkwardly and pulled back. Buffy knew their moment was over when Donald deliberately lit a cigarette. For once, she had the grace not to push for more. "So," she said, "think we should get back there before Giles and Mary think we've abandoned them?" "It'll do her some good not to be so sure of me," he joked with a small wink. "As if," Buffy scoffed, rolling her eyes. * * * * * When they got back to Giles' flat, he went to the kitchen and started a pot of tea. Buffy followed and gathered up the cups and other necessities. As he poured the boiling water into the pot, Giles smiled at Buffy. "Take that into the sitting room and I'll be back before it's ready to drink," he told her. "Where are you going?" She asked. "Never you mind," he said in a teasing tone. "And don't go into the bedroom until we've had our tea." "So... the bedroom, huh? Feeling pretty sure of ourselves, aren't we?" "Actually, no," he confessed, "but I'm hoping to persuade you." Buffy frowned at the tea tray. When she didn't say anything, Giles moved to stand behind her and put a hand gently on her shoulder. He was surprised when she flinched slightly before placing her hand over his. "Buffy? Are you okay?" he asked. "Is there some reason you'd rather not?" "No," she protested, "I - I want. I do. Really." He waited patiently until it became clear she wasn't going to say anything else without prompting. "But...?" Buffy picked up the tray and carried it into the sitting room. She set it on the coffee table and poured the tea, making sure to prepare Giles' cup exactly the way he liked it. He settled himself next to her and waited some more. At last, they both had their tea. Buffy took a sip, then put hers down. Giles took that as his cue to put his on the table as well. "When I broke things off with Spike," she said at last, "he really didn't want to take no for an answer. He kept hanging around for months after. He - he kept threatening to tell everybody... what we'd done - what I'd done - if I didn't tell them myself. I wouldn't. And he kept trying to make me say I loved him. I think he thought that was why I'd done it. I told him over and over that I didn't, but..." Her voice trailed off. After a moment, she shrugged. "What's a guy supposed to think, I guess. It's not like I'd never changed my mind when I said no before." She grew quiet again and picked up her tea. Giles noted that her hands were trembling. He took the tea from her before she could spill it. "Buffy," he asked quietly, "did he... did Spike..." "No," she said quickly. "He didn't. But he... he tried. I fought him off. Xander got there right after. Offered to stake Spike and everything. I told him no, but it was sweet of him to ask. Xander has his moments, but he's really pretty amazing sometimes." "Yes, he certainly can be," Giles agreed. He put her teacup next to his and turned to Buffy, taking her face in both his hands. "Buffy, this doesn't change anything for me. I love you, and I want to make love with you. But if you're... uncomfortable, I can wait. I can wait as long as you need me to." Buffy blinked against the sting of tears. "Xand's not the only amazing one, is he?" she joked shakily. "I was wondering when you'd notice," Giles grinned. He leaned back. Buffy curled herself gratefully into his arms. He hesitated to pull her closer, but Buffy took his arms and wrapped them around herself. "That's better," she said. "Yes, it is." He held her gently but firmly for some moments. When he spoke again, his voice was low. "Would you like to make love tonight, or would you prefer to wait?" "That's just it," she said in a frustrated tone. "I want to, but at the same time, I... don't. I'm all mixed up inside. It's been so long and the last time was, well, let's just say it wasn't the stuff dreams are made of. Nightmares, maybe, but not happy dreams. And then... when Spike..." "Shhhh," Giles soothed her. "It's all right, Buffy. There's no rush." "Except that I'm leaving tomorrow." "I am coming to you in a very short time," he reminded her. "I'll very likely be in Sunnydale in time for your birthday." "Which is always such a fun day." "Well, at least then if our first time is a disaster, we could blame it on that." Buffy giggled against his chest. Giles smiled and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. "Feeling better?" he asked. "Yeah," Buffy said. "Giles?" she said after a moment. "Yes?" "Remember what I said when I first got here?" "Let me see... I believe your exact words were: 'hey Giles'." Buffy glared up at him. "I didn't mean that part," she grumbled. "After. The part about not wanting to leave stuff unfinished; especially Gilesy stuff." "Ah, that bit," he said. "Yes, I do remember." "I think this sort of falls into that category, don't you?" "Just keep in mind, we can stop anytime you wish to." Buffy smiled wryly up at him. "Don't guys get to a point where they... can't stop?" "Well, if you try to call a halt when I'm actually in mid orgasm, I imagine that might pose a slight difficulty," he mused. "Anything short of that, though, I should be able to manage." "Wouldn't you be all frustrated?" "Yes," he agreed, "I would be frustrated. Still, frustration can be dealt with. It's better than the alternative of hurting you." "I just don't want to hurt you, either." "The only way you'll hurt me - well, I suppose you could always thrash me, but that wouldn't be anything new after all our training sessions," he grinned. A moment later, the smile was gone. "Buffy, don't do this unless you're sure you want to. Sex can wait. The important thing is that you know what you want. Don't do this for me. Wait until you're doing it for us." "Is it selfish that I want it for me? I mean, yeah, I know you want it and I want to make you happy, but... me and sex... not a whole lot of happies there. I want... I think you'd... I mean... I know you'd be... nice. Y'know, like you'd take care of me and make sure it's good. But you wouldn't treat me like I don't know what I'm doing, either, would you?" "Buffy, I know you're not a virgin. Neither am I, for the record. "See, that's just it," she said. "You treat me like I'm old enough to do what I want. No orders, no sugar coating, no punches pulled. I like that." "You are old enough to know what you want. You're old enough to do it, too." "Unlike Lolita." "Which, thankfully, removes the threat of my turning into Humbert Humbert." Buffy snuggled closer still. "Actually," she mused, "it's Angel and Spike who are in the Humbert Humbert club. You're a lot younger than either of them." "If you think about it, only Angel actually fits the description," Giles said. "At least you'd come of age when Spike decided he was in love with you. Of course, he does have an interesting - not to mention unsettling - concept of that emotion. Still." "Okay, okay, Angel was the only complete cradle robber," she agreed. "Happy now?" "That depends," he said, "on whether you are." "Tell you what," Buffy said as she dropped kisses along Giles' jawline, "you go get that stuff you were talking about earlier ready, and when you're done, I'll see what I can do to make us both happy." Giles kissed her hard on the lips. "We can stop at any time," he said. "I mean that. You're in charge tonight. You decide how far this goes and what happens." "Do I always get to be in charge?" "Well, eventually I might prefer a more egalitarian approach. And I reserve the right to refuse to participate in any act that makes me uncomfortable." "What makes you uncomfortable?" "Not a great deal, but anything involving jumbo sized nappies, youth organization uniforms, or animal sacrifice is not really a turn on for me." "Okay, so no goats, no nappies - whatever they are - and no Girl Scout outfits. Gotcha. What're nappies?" "I shouldn't worry about it now, Buffy." He rose and smiled at her. "I won't be long." He started to turn, but stopped suddenly. "And it occurs to me we both smell like a pub. Would you like to take a shower while I'm setting up? I could join you, if you like." "I - I think I'd rather shower solo, if you don't mind." Giles nodded and touched her cheek briefly. "Then we shower separately," he said. "There are extra towels in the cupboard." Buffy watched Giles walk down the hall to his bedroom. After a moment, she headed for the bathroom. * * * * * As she showered, Buffy wondered what Giles had planned for the night. She assumed that his preparations included condoms - after all, she was about to sleep with Mr. Safety - but she had no idea what else he might have decided was necessary for the event. Her mind insisted on revisiting some of the things Spike had liked in bed. Handcuffs. Spanking. Calling Buffy ugly names, and having her do the same to him. Suddenly, she felt she could never be clean. Not clean enough to be with Giles. And there was the tiny part of her brain that wondered if Giles liked any of those things. If he did, she wasn't sure what she would do. She didn't want to do those things anymore. They'd been part of her punishment. For the first time in a long time, she didn't want to be punished anymore. Worst of all, every unexpected sound made her jump. That was nothing new. It was what she'd felt every time she was alone in a bathroom since that day. She kept waiting for Spike to pounce. By the time she got out of the shower, Buffy's stomach was tied in knots of fear and nervous anticipation. She took some deep, calming breaths as she dried herself off and quickly blowdried her hair. She jumped when she heard a quiet knock on the door. "Buffy?" came Giles' voice. "Are you almost finished in there?" "Um, yeah," she said, "almost." "Would it be all right if I came in?" he asked. "I'd like a shower, too." Her heart sped and her throat went dry. "This is Giles," she reminded herself. "This isn't Spike. It'll be okay." Stopping only to take one last deep breath, Buffy unlocked and opened the door. She looked up with wide, nervous eyes that didn't quite focus on him. Giles' smile at seeing her faded almost immediately into a puzzled, concerned expression. "Whatever's the matter, Buffy?" he asked. "You look as if I'm going to..." He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. "Buffy, when Spike attacked you... where were you?" She looked at the floor and folded her arms around herself. "The bathroom," she said at last. "I was just about to take a bath." "Buffy, dearest," Giles breathed, "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize." He wrapped her in his arms and held her close. At first she held herself rigid, waiting for something bad to happen. After a moment, though, when all that happened was Giles holding her, comforting her, she began to relax. She allowed herself to accept his gentle caresses. "It's not your fault," she said, her words slightly muffled by his shirtfront. "You didn't know. I feel so stupid, freaking out like that." Giles pulled back slightly and cupped her cheeks in his large hands. "There is nothing remotely stupid how you reacted, Buffy," he told her. "You've been badly frightened. It's understandable you'd still be... a bit uneasy." "But it's been months. And you're not Spike." Giles didn't answer with words. He just leaned down and kissed her. "Now," he said, "I desperately need a shower before we do anything. I know you just took one, but if you'd care to join me, you're more than welcome. If you'd rather not, you can wait for me in either the sitting room or the bedroom. It's entirely up to you." He kissed her softly again and began to unbutton his shirt. "What are you doing?" Buffy asked nervously. "I just told you," Giles said as he took off his glasses and set them down on the counter. "The only thing that remains to be seen is what you do." He shrugged his shirt off. Buffy couldn't tear her eyes away from his chest. It wasn't as well defined as those of the other men she'd been with. There was a patch of dark tawny curls across it and she could see the start of another patch peeking over the top of his trousers. She wondered how it would feel to touch his body hair. His hands moved to his belt buckle. Her brain shut down entirely. Giles stopped for a moment. "Buffy?" he asked. "What do you want to do?" She looked in his eyes - really looked - for the first time since he'd walked in the door. Suddenly she wondered what she'd been so frightened of. A few butterflies continued their formation flight in her stomach, but the dread was virtually gone. This was Giles, she reminded herself. A half naked Giles, but still Giles. He was alive and breathing, with just a touch of middle aged spread at the waistline. His skin wasn't unblemished, either. Here and there she could see scars and wrinkles and even an occasional gray hair. She took in every flaw with her eyes and knew he was perfect. She knew she was safe. Her trembling hands made their way to the belt of the robe she wore and undid it. As she slipped the robe from her shoulders, he continued to gaze into her eyes. After a brief moment, his eyes flickered up and down her body. His lips quirked into a tiny smile. "I take it, then, you're staying?" he asked. "You take it right," she told him. "Wise ass." His smile broadened as he leaned down to kiss her again. Buffy placed a hand on his chest to stop him. She looked at him quizzically. "You... you haven't even looked yet. At me." "Yes I have," he said. "And I intend looking a good deal more." He held her at arm's length a moment, greedily drinking in the details of her form. She was too thin. The scars at her throat from vampire bites, and lower from close calls made him want to wrap her in cotton wool and take her someplace she'd never be in danger again. His eyes returned to hers. "You're beautiful." "So are you," she sighed. When she realized what she'd just said, she immediately began to backtrack. "I mean... good looking. In a guy way." Giles just laughed and held her to his bare chest. One hand cradled the back of her head while the other traveled the length of her back. The combination of his callused fingers and his gentle touch made Buffy shiver. His hand stopped its journey. "Did you want me to stop?" he asked. "No," Buffy said. "Don't stop. It's... it's nice. I want it." "I feel as if I've been waiting years to hear you say that," he breathed. "I feel like I've been waiting years to say it." Then he was kissing her again with that combination of fierce passion and incredible tenderness that made both her heart and her knees melt. When he pulled back, her eyes were already beginning to glaze over with desire. Giles smiled slightly at the sight. "Shall we?" he asked. "Huh?" "Shower. Shall we have one?" Buffy shook her head to clear it. "Yeah," she said. "Shower. That'd be good. You know, you're some amazing kisser." She was surprised when he blushed. Before she could comment on that, he turned and started the taps. He adjusted them slightly, then turned back and calmly dropped his trousers. "You know, you're also a deeply weird human being," Buffy said. Giles blinked and raised his eyebrow. "Deeply what?" "Weird," Buffy reiterated. "You, with the strangeness. You get all blushy when I say you're a great kisser, but you don't when you take off your pants in front of a woman for the first time." "I've taken my clothes off in front of women before, Buffy." "But not in front of me," she protested. "You never took anything off in front of me before but your glasses and your coat. Now all of a sudden you're Exhibitionist Man." "Now that's a superhero I'd like to see," Giles chuckled. "Exhibitionist Man." "Yeah, yeah, I know," Buffy giggled, "He wears nothing but a see-through cape and he likes to work big events. Like the Superbowl." "Or the World Cup." "Or Hullabalooza." "What on Earth is that?" "Giant rock concert. What's a World Cup?" "Giant football match." "That's what I said: the Superbowl." "Proper football, Buffy. Not the version you lot play in America. All that protective gear just gets in the way." Buffy's eyes narrowed. "You're just lucky I'm not a football fan. Ice skating," she went on, "is my sport of choice." "How can you call it a sport when half the scoring is determined by how many sequins one wears?" Buffy just laughed as she got back in the shower. Behind her, she could tell Giles was sliding his boxers off his hips. She couldn't help looking back. She drew in a deep breath at the sight of his bare buttocks and lean, long legs. She bit her lip to stop from whimpering and retreated to the humor that had so often been her friend when she was nervous about something. "I still say Brian Boitano skating Carmen is a lifechanger," she teased him. "And Tara Lipinski skating Anastasia? To die for." "If you're looking for a lifechanger, that would be Torville and Dean skating Bolero," Giles said as he stepped into the shower behind her. Buffy's jaw dropped. "How do you know about that?" she demanded. "They were world champions and Olympic champions, and they competed for Great Britain," Giles reminded her. He began to soap himself. "I do know a little of what's gone on in the world since the Bronze Age." Buffy turned around and took the soap from him. She lathered his chest and arms. It was more an excuse to explore his body than any real concern as to his cleanliness. "So when we get back to Sunnydale, you won't mind watching Ice Castles with me?" Giles groaned. It was only partly at the idea of the film. Buffy was, by this time, lathering his belly and he was having some difficulty concentrating on the conversation. His hands moved to her waist to steady himself, and to return her caresses. "Has there ever been a film about ice skaters that had any artistic merit whatsoever?" he asked. His left hand moved almost involuntarily to her breast and squeezed gently. At her happy sigh, he lifted his hand to touch her cheek. She nuzzled into his palm. "Probably not," she said cheerfully. "And if Riley had to put up with the ice skating movies, so do you." Her hands had now found his groin. His penis was growing large and hard as she fondled him with the soap. "At least I've had practice," Giles gasped. "My father was a huge fan of Sonja Henie." He decided it was time to stop the fondling unless he wanted his first time with Buffy to be in the shower. Her current edginess in bathrooms aside, there couldn't possibly be enough hot water. He took the soap back and placed it in the dish so he could rinse off. With a quick kiss, he reached for the shampoo. "You're kidding," she said. "Even I can't sit through too many of her movies. Is being strange a Giles family trait? I only ask this in case we ever have kids." Giles froze in his tracks. "Kids?" he asked. "You... you mean... children...?" "Breathe, Giles," Buffy instructed. "I was joking. I don't think motherhood is exactly in the cards for a Slayer." "Not as a rule, no," he agreed. "But then again, you've never been much of one for following rules. Just please warn me in advance if you ever do want to... to try it." He lathered his hair even as he glared at Buffy. She burst into laughter. "Okay, there is no way I'm ever caving in to that look again," she gasped between giggles. To her continued surprise, Giles pulled her into a close embrace for a brief moment. Suddenly, he was pushing her away. "What... Giles...? she asked in a small, hurt voice. "Blast!" he exclaimed. "Bloody hell!" He put his head entirely under the spray. Buffy stood rooted to the spot. Whatever was going on, she felt sure it was her fault. She wanted to run, but she couldn't make her feet move. At last he moved back and cleared the water from his eyes. One was a bit red. "I'm sorry," he explained. "I got shampoo in my eye. Hurt like fury." "It... wasn't me, then?" Buffy had to ask. "Only insofar as I was a bit distracted by having you here and didn't notice the drip until it was too late." He embraced her again. "I'll live, and it's not your fault." "You couldn't just say 'shit, I got soap in my eye' like a normal person would?" "I thought you decided I'm not a normal person." She reached up and kissed him. "Water's getting colder," she said. "Maybe it's time to get dry." Giles closed the taps and got out of the shower only to find Buffy holding a towel for him. He nodded and smiled his thanks as he reached for it, but she held onto it and began to rub him down herself. "There's really no need to do that," he said with a hint of amusement. "I know," she agreed. "You want me to stop?" "No, do carry on, so long as you're enjoying it." "I just figure I owe you a lot of spoiling." Giles pulled her close and kissed her softly. "Just so you know, I have every intention of spoiling you as well," he said. "You're dripping on the floor," she reminded him with a broad smile. "So are you." "Y'know, I don't think I care about that right now." She reached up and pulled him down for a long, slow, thorough kiss. The towel dropped unheeded to the floor as their tongues met and mingled. Buffy molded her body to Giles', her hands dropping to explore his firm rear. For his part, Giles cradled her head in one hand while the other caressed her shoulder, her throat, her back. It seemed to be everywhere at once. Buffy groaned with pleasure. It had been a long time since she'd felt the delicious sensation of skin on skin, and a good deal longer since she'd really enjoyed it. Actually, it had never felt like this before. Giles was warm, skillful, passionate, imaginative; everything a lover should be. His touch made her long for more. His kisses turned her knees to jelly. Suddenly, he scooped her up into his arms and held her close. Buffy gave a tiny shriek as her feet left the ground, then giggled as Giles placed a kiss on the end of her nose. "What was that for?" she asked. "I've always wanted to do that," he grinned. "You have an adorable nose." "Y'know, yours isn't half bad either," she told him. "But you're still pretty strange, Mr. Giles." At his frown, Buffy began to worry again. "What is it? Did I say something wrong? Should I call your nose ruggedly handsome?" "No, no, it isn't that," he said a bit absently as he put his glasses back on and carried her out of the bathroom. "Then what is it, and why did you put your specs back on? You look so much sexier without them." "You wouldn't think it very sexy of me to knock you into the walls, would you?" he asked with a small laugh. "Okay, that explains the glasses, what about the not happy look you were sporting a minute ago?" Giles hesitated at the bedroom door. "Mr. Giles," he said at last. "You've never called me that before." "Sure I did," Buffy protested. "Back in school. Didn't I?" "Not even once," he assured her. "Why was that?" "I dunno," she shrugged. "Does it really matter?" "I doubt it. Just curious, I suppose." He carried her into the bedroom, stopping just inside the doorway. When she looked at the room, Buffy gasped softly. The nightstands were now graced with large vases of daisies - Buffy's favorite flower. Thick white pillar candles stood on every flat surface waiting to be lit. Fresh linens had been placed on the bed and a box Buffy was certain held some very expensive chocolates sat on her pillow. "What's all this," she asked. "I wanted everything to be perfect for you. Do you like it?" "Like it? Like it? I love it!" she exclaimed. "And I love you." She kissed him again. "Nobody's ever done anything like this for me before." "Then it's high time someone did," he told her as he sat her on the edge of the bed and handed her the chocolates. "I only wish I could do more for you." "Trust me, this so outdoes the giant Hershey bar Riley gave me once. But flowers? Candles? I had no idea you were such a romantic, Giles." "I can be one," he said, "with the right inspiration." He kissed Buffy once more, then went around the room lighting the candles. While she waited for him to finish, Buffy ate one of the chocolates and watched him. She was surprised at how comfortable this felt. Almost everyone else she'd been with had been a lights out under the covers sort of lover. Spike couldn't be fit into that category, but it had pretty much always been dark where he was and more than half the time they didn't even bother to completely disrobe. Planning, too, had been a non-issue. There had been times when she knew she and Riley were going to have sex because, after all, that's what you do with your boyfriend, but there had never been this level of planning before. She'd always assumed that would feel cold, clinical, and utterly unromantic. Being swept away was sort of the point, wasn't it? And yet the very level of care Giles was putting into their first sexual encounter made it seem all the more erotic to her, she found. Her eyes grew heavy-lidded just watching him walk around, naked, unembarrassed, and half aroused, making the room perfect for her. For them. When she raised her eyes from his pubic region, she had to giggle. "What's so funny," he asked in a bewildered tone. "You're still wearing your glasses." "I'd still rather like to see." "You're... not gonna leave those on when we... are you?" Giles lit the last candle, turned out the main light in the room, and sauntered over to the bed. He smiled broadly as he crawled onto it and lay down next to her. "I am rather horrifically nearsighted," he teased her. "I might need them to see you clearly in such low light." "More light than I'm used to for this game, actually," Buffy said. "I want to see you while we make love," Giles said in a voice that had dropped to a precipitously low octave. Buffy shivered pleasurably. "I want to watch how you react when I touch you," he went on. "I want you to be able to see me, as well; see how your touch moves me." As he spoke his hand traveled over her arm, her shoulder, her cheek, into her hair. He pulled her into another long, deep, thorough kiss. Buffy kissed him back with everything she had. Her arms wrapped themselves around him. She could feel his cock growing harder against her belly as they kissed. She knew if he decided to enter her now, he would find her more than ready for him. If this was Riley, she knew he would already be inside her. If this was Spike, she would probably be readjusting her panties and hurling insults at him on her way out of his crypt by this time. This, however, was Giles. He'd barely gotten started. He took his time, seeking out all the spots that made Buffy moan, shudder, or cry out with pleasure. Rather than going through the motions Buffy expected - kisses, nipple sucking, intercourse, snoring - he made delightful side journeys to her earlobes, the slight valley between her breasts, the nape of her neck, even her inner elbow. It all felt wonderful. In fact, the erotic haze was so intense, Buffy couldn't say afterward precisely when it was his glasses made their way to the nightstand. Nor could she say who had put them there. All she knew was that she wanted to give him the sort of pleasure he was giving her. She nuzzled his throat, tweaked his erect nipples, slid her foot up and down the back of his leg. Everything she did seemed to please him; excite him. They tumbled across the bed, wrestling and laughing, each taking the lead and then relinquishing it to the other in turn. All the while Giles told her how beautiful she was, how much she delighted him, how much he wanted to please her. Buffy couldn't say the words back to him. He'd rendered her entirely too incoherent. Buffy began to think she would explode if she didn't get some relief soon. Every nerve in her body hummed with excitement. She trembled with almost every touch, so close to release she could almost taste it. "Please," she managed to whisper. That was all it took. Giles turned his long body around and rested his cheek on her hip. He gently spread her legs. He took a moment to simply look at Buffy's sex. Her curls were wet with her juices, her lips swollen with need. "So beautiful," he murmured, "so very beautiful." He pressed a soft kiss to each creamy thigh, then, at long last, he tasted her. As soon as his tongue flicked out to touch her clitoris, Buffy shuddered and cried out with her first orgasm. Her fingers clutched at the sheets and her toes curled with the force of it. Giles went wild, licking and sucking at Buffy's womanhood. Her sighs, moans, whimpers and screams of ecstasy went straight to his groin until he wondered that he hadn't yet found his release simply through stimulating her. Through the haze of bliss, Buffy noticed at last that Giles' cock was mere inches from her lips. From a tangle of dark curls it stood out long and thick and rock hard, with the foreskin stretched back behind the head. A drop of