|
Rating: FRT for nudity, flirtiness, and a couple mild naughty words. You've seen a lot worse on the show. Pairing: Buffy/Giles Spoilers: None, really. Set in a vague mid-S5 world. Don't worry about Glory and all that. This is just a fun interlude. Summary: An eye-opening experience reveals a lot about Giles to his Slayer...and her friends. Dedication: To Hooloovoo_42, who I will still friend even after the cricket finals, so long as she promises to put up with my Olympic fever next time that comes along. Author's Notes: This one comes to you through the goodness of The Fund, an LJ community designed to raise money to help out our fellow fen caught in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina by offering fic, LJ icons, banners, web design, and beta services in exchange for donations. http://www.livejournal.com/community/the_fund/ Hooloovoo_42 requested: Giles caught by any or all of the Scoobies while singing a song by Flanders and Swann, and being forced to explain about them.
Giles squelched into his apartment, doing his best not to coat the entire door handle with the inky demon blood that covered him nearly from head to toe. It was going to be a long walk to the bathroom. With almost superhuman effort, he managed to reach his goal without drenching his entire home in dark, sticky goo. He didn't bother to close the bathroom door, because that would mean one more bloodstain to clean when he was done cleaning himself. No, he simply dropped his clothes where he stood, climbed into the shower, and turned on the taps until warm jets of water began to sluice the gore down the drain. Yes, that felt better. Giles smiled to himself as he took up his loofah and soap. An old song meandered into his memory, filling him with a happy sense of nostalgia. Yes, those chaps had it right, all that time ago. As a boy he'd never understood the charm of their idea, but as a man who quite enjoyed being clean...really, they'd got it very right. He began to sing to himself. Oh, I find much simple pleasure when I've had a tiring day Giles giggled to himself again. What fun those old records were! It had been far too long since he'd pulled them out and listened to them. All at once, the demon blood gurgling down the drain reminded him of something... some song... ah, yes! With another giggle, Giles changed songs. A bold Hippopotamus was standing one day * * * * * "Giles? Giles, are you here?" Buffy poked her head in through the front door of Giles' apartment. "Giles, we need to talk about that demon..." She frowned in confusion. Giles was nowhere to be seen, but he was definitely to be heard. "Mud?" Buffy puzzled. "He wants to wallow in mud? Never would have guessed Giles was that kinky." Still, it was just a song. Probably the demon was having the sort of effect Willow had discovered in another volume after Giles had gone off hunting in Buffy's stead. She shook her head. He really needed to be more careful and wait until she had things handled at home so she could go with him. Or better yet, he could stay out of the line of fire. The Slayer hunts. The Watcher trains. When was he going to accept that. Never. She knew that. A sudden shriek from the bathroom set every nerve in Buffy's body on alert. She raced to her Watcher's aide. "Giles! Are you okay?" She raced through the open door only to find Giles standing naked and shivering in the middle of the room. "Oh my God!" she said, turning quickly away from the sight of his dripping body... a body she'd never realized was so nice. "Will you please at least grab a towel?" "Well I didn't know you were coming in here," Giles said reasonably. He reached past Buffy for a towel. "Now you're here, of course I'll cover up if you like." Buffy muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like 'too little, too late'. Giles smiled to himself. "So what was with the girly scream?" Buffy asked. "That wasn't a girly scream," Giles said. "It was a manly shout of surprise." "At that octave?" "Don't be ridiculous," Giles laughed, tapping the end of Buffy's nose with his finger. "Anyone would yell a bit at what happened to me." "What did happen to you?" "Hot water ran out all at once." He frowned as he pulled the towel from his hips and began to dry his hair. "I'll have to see if I can get the gasman in. Pity it's the weekend. I'll call him Monday." "Good grief, Giles!" Buffy exclaimed as she hurriedly turned her back. "Stop with the peep show, already!" Giles just giggled and started singing again. 'Twas on a Monday morning "Giles! Stop singing! And put some pants on! I can't talk to you like this and I really need to tell you something." Giles did stop singing. He also stopped smiling. In fact, he looked hurt. Buffy looked down to avoid his eye, but looked up again when she saw what part of him was looking happily at her. "You don't like my singing?" "It's... it's not that," Buffy said as patiently as she could manage. "Your singing's great, actually. Really nice. But I need you to concentrate. And get dressed." "Ah. It's my body you object to. Well, I'm sorry it upsets you so, but it's not at all in bad shape for a man of my years," Giles said. "In fact, I happen to know of several young women who would go to a great deal of effort to see what you're seeing right now. But I don't want to show it to them. I want to show it to you." "Look, it's not that it's bad... or even, really, that I don't want to see it. In fact, now I look, it's actually pretty... wow. Impressive." Buffy took a deep breath and went on. "But I think you need to know that Willow found out something more about this demon... this... Crabmeister thingy, or whatever it was. It's the blood... if you get even a little in your pores, it's like drinking a whole lot of booze, and the effects get worse way before they get better." Giles burst into a hearty gale of laughter. "I got a lot on me," he giggled. "Right. And it's all over this place. Now, we have to try to clean it up without getting any more on us, okay?" "I don't feel like cleaning up. Just took a shower." He frowned as he tried to catch hold of a fleeting thought. Caught it! He grinned widely. "Want to sing. Want to serenade you, Buffy." "Why don't you serenade your sock drawer, Giles? Go! Get dressed!" She pointed up toward the loft. Giles leaned back his head and stared at the bathroom ceiling. "Can't go that way," he said, shaking his head. "Have to use the stairs." Suddenly he looked Buffy straight in the eye. "Do you know what you are, Buffy?" "No. Why don't you tell me while I get you upstairs and get you dressed?" "You're going to dress me?" He frowned again. "I'd rather undress you." "Maybe another time, big boy," Buffy laughed as she steered Giles toward the stairs. "So, you didn't tell me what I am." "You're everything." He said it as if he was surprised she wouldn't know that, already. "You're my world." "Great. He says what every girl wants to hear, but he never says it when he's sober," she grumbled. With a small smile and an even smaller sigh, she hefted him more firmly over her shoulder and nearly carried him up to the loft. "Y'know, Romeo, I might not mind hearing this stuff when you're not loopy. So, the question is, are you going to even remember this when you're back to being you again?" She'd asked too late. Giles was crooning under his breath. It was a remarkably silly song about people leaving bedsteads and other assorted crap by the side of the road. Oh the lily ponds of Suffolk He finished up his song with a hearty snore just as Buffy managed to manhandle him onto the bed. She stared down at him, naked and asleep and disheveled, and her heart melted. "Oh, Giles, what am I gonna do with you?" She started at a knock on the door. "First off, I'm gonna get you covered," she decided. "No time for clothes. I'll just pull up the covers, I guess." She hurried to get the blanket over him before the rest of the gang could file in the door. "Hey, Buffy?" Xander called. "The clean up patrol is here." "Shhh. He's asleep." Xander bounded up the stairs, took one look at Giles and shook his head. "He's passed out. He'll be out of it for hours. How bad was he?" Buffy grimaced, trying to think of what to tell her friend that wouldn't be a lie, but wouldn't really give the whole picture. "Well... he... wasn't so bad. Mainly he kept singing these really silly songs and saying he liked me." There. It was true, but no mention of exhibitionism or horniness was made. "Well, we already know the big guy likes you," Xander said. "It could have been worse." By this time, Willow, Tara and Anya had all joined them upstairs. "And Giles singing is never of the bad," Willow said dreamily. "He does have a really nice voice," Tara agreed. "And a nice butt." The others all stared at Anya. "What? I notice these things." Anya turned to Xander. "Yours is nice, too," she said. "I like it very much." "Why are you noticing Giles' butt?" Xander demanded. Giles chose this moment to roll over onto his stomach and stretch one long leg across the mattress, pulling the blankets off of himself in the process. Buffy gave a muffled squeak of distress. All of them stared at the firm buttocks exposed by the move. "See?" Anya said, pointing. "That's why I'm noticing. It's a nice butt." Buffy hurried over and tried valiantly to readjust the covers. Giles, however, reached out unconsciously and dragged her into his embrace. The others burst out laughing. "It's not funny," Buffy protested. "Guys, it's not!" "Yes, it is," Willow said through her giggles. "It's like you're his teddy bear. It's really kind of cute." "No, Buffy's right," Xander said. "Not funny, and not cute. In fact, it's disturbing. I'm deeply disturbed." "I don't care whether you guys find it disturbing," Buffy said. "But think about how much this will disturb Giles if he finds out you all saw his hiney. Go. Clean. I'll... stay here, I guess, until I can figure out a way to leave without waking him up." The rest of the gang filed down the stairs. Buffy could hear the snap of rubber gloves and the slosh of cleaners being mopped and scrubbed on floors, walls, and knobs. While the others scrubbed, she watched Giles sleep. It usually didn't occur to her how careworn he often looked. But now, seeing him so utterly unguarded, she realized how hard her life must be on him. "I'm your world, huh? Sometimes that's really gotta suck," she said ruefully. "Monsters and rude Americans and all of it... that's not really the world you want, is it?" Giles grunted slightly in his sleep and nestled his head more firmly against Buffy's shoulder. He smiled slightly. It was all Buffy could do not to cry. "You're going to deny all this when you wake up, aren't you, Giles? But I know. You said it and I heard it, and you're holding me so tight... you really meant it. You deserve so much better, but you seem to want me, so I'm gonna do my best for you." "Buffy?" "You're awake?" "Can't sleep with you muttering," he said thickly. "Do shut up and go to sleep." "Gonna sing me a lullaby?" she teased. "I know a nice song... about a warthog... but I forget the words. Reminds me of you. Pretty song. Don't need all the fancy clothes and perfume. Pretty without them." He pulled her slightly closer and rested his chin on her breast. "S'better. Sleep now." "Okay, I'll try." Buffy doubted she could really sleep in broad daylight with all her friends downstairs, let alone while lying in the arms of a very naked and very affectionate Giles. Despite all that, a series of long nights followed by longer days capped off with an adrenaline rush had taken their toll. In minutes, Buffy was fast asleep in the arms of her Watcher. When the others finished cleaning, they went up to check on the situation, and found Buffy and Giles both fast asleep and completely entwined around each other. "That's so sweet," Tara said. "They don't usually look that happy," Willow said. "I wish they looked that happy more." Xander didn't say anything, but he nodded and looked abnormally serious. "Well if they really wanted to be that happy all the time, they could be," Anya said. "What do you mean?" Xander asked. "Their lives suck. How can they be that happy all the time?" "Look, you know how it usually is with Watchers and Slayers, right?" Anya said patiently. When the others shook their heads and looked confused, she went on. "Okay, usually there's a Watcher and a Slayer, and that's it. Nobody else. No mothers or fathers or little sisters or friends. Just a Watcher and a Slayer." "Okay," Willow said. "Just a Watcher and a... y-you don't mean... really?" "What? What doesn't she mean?" Xander asked. "She doesn't not mean what I'm thinking she doesn't not mean, does she?" "I-it's a little like fate, isn't it?" Tara said. "No," said Anya, "it's exactly like fate. The Council doesn't just pull a random name out of a hat, you know. Well, they did when they sent Wesley, but they were trying to make a point that wasn't getting across to these two. A Slayer's no good without a Watcher, and a Watcher's no good without a Slayer. There's a whole mystical process that shows them which Watcher belongs with which Slayer. They're fated, and not just to hunting demons." "You mean...they're supposed to fall for each other?" Xander's brow wrinkled. "No wonder they get so messed up. Okay, it's sort of weird, but I guess it could be worse. At least it's not the return of Deadboy." "Xander," Willow scolded. "She might hear you." At that moment, Buffy rolled over and snuggled deeper into Giles' arms. "I think this is sort of a private thing," Tara said. "Whether they get together or not, I don't think they'd like knowing we were watching them sleep like this. Cute though it is. We should leave." "But I never told them the rest about the Graumanster demon and what the blood does," Willow said. "You said it would get Giles drunk," Xander said. "I think that was a simple enough concept for Buffy to communicate." "Well, yeah, but it's not just drunk. I mean, yeah, it could seem a lot like it at first, but really it takes down all your emotional barriers without giving you a hangover. And just a little can take them down for hours. From the looks of this place when we got here, I'd say Giles has got at least a year's supply in him. He'll probably have a bit more control over himself when he wakes up, but he won't really be the way he was for a long time." "Good," said Anya. "He's too repressed, anyway. With a year of being less emotionally bottled up, he can change that bad pattern, and maybe even teach Buffy to loosen up a little bit. Let's go." Anya turned on her heel and left. The others shrugged and followed her. After all, there wasn't really anything they could do. The sky was dark by the time Buffy opened her eyes. No lights had been turned on in the room, but she was immediately aware of the fact she was being closely observed. "What?" she asked sleepily. "Bad bed hair? More songs about icky animals you want to sing to me?" "No," Giles giggled. "No, I think I'm done singing for a bit... though the warthog song is actually rather sweet, as I recall." "You remember you wanted to sing to me about warthogs? How about the other stuff?" "Well, I do seem to recall that my being undressed was some sort of problem for you, so I put on some clothes." "Good. Not that you don't look nice without them, because you do. I was more worried about how you'd feel when you were back to being yourself again. I know you're kind of shy about stuff like that." Giles shook his head and smiled to himself. "You know, it's the funniest thing... but I don't care," he said. "I don't mind that you saw me naked, nor do I care whether anyone else did. There was a time when I was a lot more easy about my body. It's almost as if I've returned to that time." He gave a breathy laugh. "I feel... lighter, freer than I have in years. In fact, I feel rather like bursting into song again, if you don't mind it." "No, by all means. If you want to give a concert, go right ahead. But could I ask you something first?" "What do you want to know?" "All those songs you were singing earlier... what were they? You didn't make them up, did you?" "No, I didn't. They were written by a comic duo called Flanders and Swann. Michael Flanders and Donald Swann. I've enjoyed them since I was a boy. Did you... did you like any of the songs?" "Well, I was sort of concentrating on making sure you were okay and trying to get you to put some pants on, but... yeah. They weren't so bad. In fact... I probably wouldn't mind hearing a couple more... though I'm still not sure about warthogs." "The warthog is simply a device for saying it's better to be yourself than to try to turn yourself into something you're not in an effort to please everyone else. She tarts herself up in a fancy dress and ribbons and perfume, and she dyes her tusks, but everyone at the ball can tell she's just putting on an act." "You said she reminded you of me." "She does." "Gee, thanks." Buffy sat up and turned away from him. Suddenly, there was a strong hand on her shoulder. "Buffy, you do try to be what you aren't. You keep trying to be an ordinary girl, but you're not. You'll never be quite like other girls. Besides, you haven't heard what happens to that warthog. Would you like to know?" "I guess you're going to tell me, aren't you?" "A gentleman warthog finally arrives at the dance and sees her for what she really is... and dances with her. And do you know why?" "Why?" "Because under all the paint and perfume and ruffles, she's exactly what he wants, and he can see that in spite of everything." Buffy looked at him, tears beginning to form in her eyes and cling to her lashes. "Really? He loves her, anyway?" "He loves her anyway." He pulled her into his arms. "And I love you for what you are, under everything. I love your strength, your courage, your generosity of spirit...all of it. So stop trying to pretend you're not every bit as intelligent and capable as you are, because you're not really fooling anyone. You can't fool me." "Because you're the gentleman warthog?" "And I see the hog beneath the skin." "Only you could make something that silly - and kind of gross - sound sort of romantic," Buffy giggled through her tears. "Buffy?" "Yes, Giles?" "Would you mind terribly if I were to... take you downstairs and play some of my records for you? There are a couple songs I'd like you to hear, and I'm not certain I remember all the words." "Okay. Yes," Buffy said. "We could do that. But, isn't there something else you want to do?" "Yes, I do want to kiss you," Giles said with a bemused smile. "But I'm in no hurry. A first kiss only comes once, and I'd like to savor the moment a bit longer. Besides, there's another song I want to sing to you first." "You and the singing," Buffy giggled. She brushed a hand over his hair. "It's sort of geeky, but it's sweet. Go ahead. Serenade me and see if you can make me swoon." "I always thought if I ever got married, I'd like this song to be the one for the first dance." His voice was wistful now, and filled with a gentleness that melted Buffy's heart yet again. "The last girlfriend I told that to wasn't amused, but I'm hoping you'll understand." He took a deep breath and began to sing again. 'Oh, my darling Armadillo, When Buffy giggled, he looked down, resignation filling his eyes. "I know," he said. "You'd prefer something more modern and conventional, I know. It's alright." "Well, I'd sort of like to be asked before you make too many wedding plans, but that can wait a while. I want to take a little time with this. And there's no way I'm accepting a proposal before I've even kissed you. But if you ever did ask, and I did say yes... yeah, that song might work. Nobody else would get it, but that's okay." "Really? Why is that?" "Because I think I can see exactly what sort of warthog you are, too. You've been hiding him away under all that terminal stuffiness and repression. I couldn't see him under the layers. But now, now I like what I see. And to quote a very different old song, I won't get fooled again. Giles smiled and began to croon again. 'Oh, my darling Armadillo, "Maybe someday," Buffy murmured happily. "Maybe someday."
|
