Pairing: Buffy/Giles Rating: PG Spoilers: None really, but set shortly after The Body in S5. Summary: Giles admits a weakness to Buffy, and she reacts in a surprising way. Author's Notes: This comes to you courtesy of Bek's challenge for a cheerup fic on the GRB. The challenge reads as follows: Basically, I'd really like to see either Buffy or Giles with a seriously bad allergy. It could be an allergy to peanuts, seafood, fruit of any kind or just your regular seriously major dose of hay fever. As long as it's an allergic reaction to something that can be made fun of. Dedication: To Bek, who I hope is doing better now, To K for much the same reason, and to my sister-in-law, whose real allergies inspired this twisted little tale. Buffy watched in consternation as her Watcher blew his nose for the fifteenth time since she'd walked into the room. She watched him, yet again, pull out his now slightly soggy handkerchief, apply it to his face, honk loudly, and grimace as he replaced the square of linen in his pocket, then turn grimly back to the task of shelving books. "Are you sure you should even be here with that cold?" she asked. "I mean, if you're sick, shouldn't you let Anya take care of the shipments?" "I'm perfectly fine, Buffy," he replied stuffily - in both senses of the word. "And I don't have a cold." "Of course you do, Giles. You've been sneezing and dripping and your eyes are watery. Y'know, it isn't a crime to be sick once in a while. You could stay home in bed and have someone bring you chicken and stars and everything." "Who would 'someone' be?" Even though he smiled slightly, Buffy could tell he was neither happy nor amused. "Besides, I haven't a cold at all. No amount of condensed soup would do any good." He turned resolutely back to the shelves until a veritable monsoon of a sneeze forced him to take refuge in his handkerchief yet again. "Okay, that's it," Buffy said firmly. She stood, walked over to Giles, and closed the lid of the box. "You are going to tell me right now what the deal is. And don't try to tell me you aren't sick. Nobody sneezes like that without heavy-duty germs involved." "Buffy, I told you..." "No. Uh uh. You don't get out of this with one of your 'it's none of your business' waffles. Not after everything I've lost this year." "Lost... good lord, Buffy, you don't think you're getting rid of me that easily do you?" He took her arm and steered her into the training room. Once he had her settled on the couch, he wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I'm not sick, I promise you. If I were, I would have stayed home in bed to get better. Under the circumstances, however... there would have been no point." "So if you're not sick, what is it? Is it a spell? Should I get Will on the anti-Sneeze-demon research? What?" "No, no, nothing like that. It's... well, it's rather embarrassing, actually... but it's an allergy. Trust me, I'll be fine." "What are you allergic to?" she asked with a small frown. "I never knew you were allergic. It isn't me, is it?" "Of course it isn't..." One look at her now dancing eyes took the wind out of his sails. "Stop that," he chuckled. "If I was allergic to you, I'd have been on my way a very long time ago. After all, it's not as if I care much for California in general. In point of fact, there are times when I think you're practically the only bloody thing that makes staying here anything less than Hell." "Really?" she beamed up at him. "Really," he assured her with a further light squeeze of her shoulders. He was surprised to see another frown mar her forehead. "Then what is it?" she asked suddenly. "What's what?" "The allergy. What is it? You still haven't said?" "It's... well... usually, you don't notice it because I keep it under control, but I left my medication at home this morning." "And this medication is to help you control... what allergy?" "You're going to laugh," he warned. "No, I won't. I promise. Whatever it is, I can see how miserable it's making you. I won't make fun of that. And I won't rat you out to the others, either. Your secret's safe with me." Still, he hesitated. But when he looked down to tell her it didn't matter, her eyes looked so troubled, he couldn't keep his dread secret any longer. "I'm allergic to book dust," he blurted out. Buffy's eyes widened. A moment later, the corners of her mouth began to twitch. A moment after that, she had burst into merry peals of laughter. "Well you may laugh," he snorted in mock grievance, "but it's miserable, in my line of work. Not only that, but I'm also allergic to the glue they use in binding new books. That's why it was so bad out there. The combination of dusty new books and no antihistamines is enough to leave me nearly prostrate." She did her best not to, but Buffy couldn't help a fresh round of laughter. After a moment, Giles found himself joining in. She buried her face in his shoulder and snickered, trying to get herself under control. He took the opportunity to pull her into a light hug. "I'm sorry," she giggled at last. "I know I said I wouldn't laugh, but even you have to admit it's funny that the book junkie is allergic to his own fix." "Bloody ironic, at any rate. But, as you can see, I'm not ill, and I'm not in any danger." "Just sorta drippy," she nodded seriously, though her eyes still danced with amusement. "Look, I may not have been able to not laugh, but I will keep my other promises. Y'know, about not telling and not teasing. You can trust me." "I do. I always have done." She blushed and looked down, but didn't pull away at all. He decided to go for broke and embraced her fully. "This is nice," she purred as her arms tightened around him. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" They sat in silence, just holding each other for a while. At last, she loosened her hold on him and looked into his eyes. "Me," she said. "I'm sorry? You... what?" "You asked who'd bring you chicken and stars. That'd be me. If - if you wanted, that is." "I can think of nothing I'd like more." His hand moved to stroke her hair. He watched as her lashes skimmed her cheeks and her lips pursed slightly. Hesitantly, he brushed them with his own. When he pulled back, he waited anxiously for her to respond. Had he gone too far? Had he misinterpreted her friendly offer? She looked up at him in confusion. His heart crashed. "I - I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have...." "The only thing you shouldn't have," she said steadily, "is stop what you were doing. Unless you didn't like it. I mean, then... what I mean...." "Buffy?" "Yeah?" He kissed her again. This time there was no hesitation, no trepidation. It was still very new, but it was confident on both sides. Suddenly, Giles pulled himself out of Buffy's arms and began to sneeze again. "Okay, that's it," she frowned. "Where are your meds?" "I told you, I left them at home," he sniffled. "Where at home?" "Why?" "Because I'm not letting my guy suffer a minute longer than he has to, that's why." "Buffy, there's no need to fuss...." "Oh yes there is, Giles. You've been fuss-free way too long." She held out her hand. "Key. Now." He dutifully handed over his keys and showed her which one opened the front door of his apartment. "They're in the medicine cabinet. It's the only prescription I have just now, so you should be able to recognize them." "And the hankies?" "Hmmm? What?" "Well that one's about blown out, so I thought I'd get you a fresh one." "Really, there's no need...." "Oh, but there really, really is," she said. "You take care of me, I take care of you. That's how it's supposed to be, isn't it?" She slid into his lap and draped her arms around his neck. "Now, where do you keep those hankies?" "My... um... the top left-hand drawer of my dresser." He blushed slightly. "In the same drawer with my... well... my underwear." "Darn." "What?" "Well, this is going to answer the boxers or briefs question way before I was expecting to. But that's okay. I'm sure you'll still have a couple surprises left for me when we get to that part." "Oh, I think I can promise I won't run entirely out of surprises for you for quite a while," he teased. "I have every intention of surprising and confusing you for years to come." "Ditto right back at you." She kissed him lightly. "Speaking of surprises, I think maybe we better keep this to ourselves for a little while." "I don't know, I feel a bit like shouting if there's a rooftop handy. But of course," he said more hesitantly, "if you think it best... I suppose I can be discreet." "That rooftop sounds great, actually. And this isn't because I'm ashamed or I think everyone's gonna freak, or even that I care if they do. It's more... I want a couple days to sort of ease Dawn into this. So much has happened the last few months, I don't want to blow this by messing up the big announcement with her. Besides, this gives you time." "Time for what?" "Scouting rooftops for the perfect location. I want to make sure the whole damn town can see and hear us when we start crowing." She kissed him soundly one more time, then slid off his lap. "Stay right there, babe. Fussing is about to commence, and I don't want to hear any arguments." Giles watched her leave, enjoying the rear view and smiling to himself. "If I'd known it would go like this, I'd have left my pills at home months ago."