Rating: FRT Pairing: Buffy/Giles Spoilers: None, really, but set sometime late in the summer between S3 and S4. Summary: Buffy tries to convince Giles to cool off a little bit, but only succeeds in raising the temperature. Author's Notes: This one comes to you courtesy of my increasingly annoying habit of answering my own challenges (G). My answer to the Together BG Quickfic Challenge: Giles is too hot. Giles loosened his tie, dabbed his forehead with a slightly soggy handkerchief, and turned his focus resolutely to the page before him. He barely noticed when his front door opened and Buffy sailed breezily into the room. "Hey Giles, what's cooking?" she asked with a wicked grin. "I am, as you know very well," Giles said with some asperity. "This place is a bloody inferno, in fact as much as in name." "And you only make it worse on yourself, wearing a tie and a jacket and socks and everything. You should take a lesson from the friendly natives. We may not be as smart as you at some things, but we know how to beat the heat." Giles was almost afraid to look at her, but look he did. He swallowed hard. There she sat, her hair up in an untidy makeshift bun held in place with a pair of pencils. Random tendrils of blonde hair framed her face prettily where they'd escaped capture. She wore a pale pink tank top that made her look almost as if she had no shirt on at all, and her shorts were very short indeed. Her feet were graced with a pair of cheap rubber sandals he'd heard referred to as 'flip-flops', no doubt because of the irritating slapping sound they made when people walked in them. Of course, being Buffy, she couldn't wear the plain, utilitarian ones. No, these had brightly colored plastic flowers decorating the straps that held them to her dainty toes. "You really go out in public dressed like that?" Of course she did. Casting his mind back, Giles remembered several outfits Buffy used to wear to school that were nearly as revealing as this one - perhaps even more so. "Nobody cares, Giles," she said with a laugh. "Everybody walks around like this during the summer. Everyone, that is, except my Watcher who is determined to meet an early and stuffy demise through heat prostration." She gestured at his suit and tie. "The world won't end if you take off your tie, y'know. Or does it hold your head on?" His glare only made her laugh harder. "Yes, you may mock me," he said, "but I'm not going to prance about naked for your pleasure." Buffy stopped laughing. Her eyes went wide. "You mean... they can actually all come off?" she asked in mock astonishment. "You have a real body under all that fabric? Don't you need a key to get the chastity belt off?" Her voice was mocking, but her breathing had shallowed slightly. Giles could see real curiosity in her eyes...and perhaps something more. He knew he ought to retreat, ought to tell her to run along. But he wouldn't do that. Ripper had always been fond of playing with fire. If Buffy honestly wanted proof he was a man, she'd get it. If she really didn't want to know, he'd at least make sure she knew not to stir him like this. "You want to see a body?" he challenged. "Do you really want to see mine?" "Giles, are you serious?" Her voice faltered slightly, but her eyes remained steady. "You really want to show me all? You're not under a spell of some kind, are you? Willow didn't bippity-boppety-boo you recently?" "To the best of my knowledge, the only spell I'm under is that of a beautiful young woman showing an interest in me. If the lady isn't serious in this, she'd better find someone else to tease," he said softly. "I like to play, but I don't take well to being used and left frustrated. How far do you want this to go, Buffy?" "Go...? I... Giles, what is this? I came here to say hi and maybe convince you to lose a couple layers before you sweat to death. You're the one who started talking about taking it all off." "And you're the one who brought up chastity belts. I've never worn one. What made you think of such a silly thing? Were you thinking about that blasted candy?" "Okay, if you want me to say I'm serious and I want you to be all exhibitionist with me, the first thing you'll do is never bring that night up again," Buffy said glancing uncomfortably at the floor. "And okay, it definitely made me think more about what's under the tweed, yeah, but I have to admit... it wasn't the first time I thought about you, and what you might look like... what it might feel like... but after I found out about you and my mom... ever since then, when I look at you, it's almost all I can think about. And when I think about you like that... let's just say Mom wonders why the hot water bill has been so low the last few months." She smiled wryly at him. "That was probably a whole lot more than you wanted to know. So what about you?" "What about me?" "Have you ever... do you ever think about me that way?" He took her face in his hands. The thumbs caressed her cheeks almost involuntarily. "When I learned how Angel had turned," he said hesitantly, "I must admit, I was... well... I didn't want to know that about you. I'd been trying since we met not to notice your sexuality. And you certainly made that more effort than it might have been, with the way you dressed and your constant chatter about boys. Since that night, I haven't been able to keep up the pretense anymore - not with myself. I said nothing, did nothing, tried not to think about you that way, but it's hopeless. You are my life, Buffy. I'm not saying that to be romantic. It's a fact. I was born, raised, and trained to serve you in whatever capacity you deem necessary. If you ask this of me, I'll do it gladly." His smile appeared, lightning quick, and disappeared just as swiftly. "Of course, I hope you'll be kind and not ask it if all you want is to satisfy your curiosity." "So what you're saying is I've got you wrapped around my little finger and you hope I won't twist too hard." She nodded and frowned. "But you really want me?" "Yes." She could hear the depth contained in that simple word. 'Yes' meant not just that he wanted to have sex with her; it meant that he wanted to serve her, that he loved her, cherished her, but would never forgive her if she used him. A weight settled in the pit of her stomach. "I - I'm not sure I'm ready for that," she said. "I want to be, but I don't think I am." "Then perhaps I'll keep my clothes on, for the time being." He pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. Both felt as if some promise had been sealed. He would wait. She would come to him when she was ready to commit herself to him as strongly as he had to her. "Jacket and tie?" she prodded. "That can't hurt." He smiled, removed his jacket, loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. "How's that?" "You look cooler already." "And you look very, er, hot." She grinned widely. "I do my best," she said teasingly. All at once, her expression turned sober. "Maybe we could try this in stages. Y'know, maybe one day you could undo two buttons, or even three. And then I can get you to wear some shorts, show off those great legs of yours. Eventually, I'll be ready for all of it." "I'll be waiting." "I know." She headed for the door. At the last moment, she turned back. "Oh, if you loosen up the buttons and stuff, you'll probably get your wish faster... but don't go too overboard the other way, either. I'll deny it and kill you if you ever tell anyone else, but sometimes... the tweed's kinda sexy." "And I'll deny it if you tell anyone, but every now and again, I miss watching you patrol in a miniskirt." She laughed and went on her way. Giles headed for the bathroom. He was far too hot. Perhaps a cold shower would help.