Title: The Wacky 1/2
Author: Holly
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, WB and ME (Mutant Enemy . <I really do just like to say that. If they belong to ME, things would be a whole lot different. Well for Giles and Buffy, anyway ; >
Rating: NC-17. Buffy/Giles Joyce/Ethan Don't say Euww until you read it.
Spoilers: Season 3 U.S. I started this back in August, just ask Gibberish. I must have been channeling Joss. Which could be a good thing for us B/G 'shippers ;- This occurs over the summer after Grad. No Olivia, no Parker (poophead and no Riley.
Distribution: Solo-84 if she wants it. Anyone else, just ask :
Summary: Love makes Buffy and Giles do the Wacky.
Feedback: Yes please. No flames though.
When Joyce regained consciousness, she realized that she was bound and gagged, and that her head hurt like hell. She was sitting on a cold floor, her back to a wall in a pitch-dark room. She fought down her rising panic, trying to recall what had happened.
She remembered getting out of the Jeep. Then being tapped on the shoulder by someone she hadn't heard approach, turning, blackness.
She took several deep breaths through her nose. She felt a little calmer now that she had a very basic idea of what had happened. She concentrated on her surroundings.
She could hear voices in the next room. At least two male voices, maybe a third. Suddenly that third voice said, "are you out of your mind?" Joyce almost recognized it. British, deep. Now where had she heard that voice?
Suddenly the door to her prison burst open. She blinked in the sudden light. A man stood in the doorway, outlined in light. He shook his head, and she thought she heard him say, "bloody idiots," before he came to kneel in front of her.
That's when she recognized him. Ethan Rayne. He spoke to her. "Now then...Joyce, isn't it?" At her nod, he continued. "Do you promise me that you'll not kick up a fuss if I take off the gag?" She nodded again, and he removed the gag. She was about to rain curses down on him, when two others entered the room.
They were both clearly vampires. One was big with a cowboy hat on. The other was a slightly smaller version, with a matching cowboy hat.
Joyce closed her mouth with a snap. Ethan followed her frightened gaze. He absently patted her still bound hands in reassurance. Then he spoke to the larger vampire. "What in all the hells were you thinking?" He demanded. The vampire growled, but Ethan stared him down.
"I thought the Slayer would come looking for her," Lyle said petulantly. "You know, like bait."
Ethan took a deep breath. "Lyle, the Slayer would indeed come looking for her mother. Then she would rip out your intestines and play jump rope. Not to mention what she'd do to me." He finished with a shudder. "Buffy is very protective of the lovely Joyce here. The question becomes, what shall we do about this?"
Joyce kept quiet, realizing that Ethan's much vaunted instinct for self-preservation just might save her life. He eyed her with some speculation.
"Do you think that you could keep this our little secret, luv? Hmmm?"
"You ain't gonna' believe her, are ya'?"
"Actually, yes, I would. If she would give her word. Knowing our little Slayer, if she knew how easily Joyce was taken, she'd have her practically under house arrest. Isn't that right, luv?"
"Yes," she responded evenly. Hating him for his perception, almost as much as she hated him for his betrayal of humanity, by working with the vampires. He grinned at her as if he could read those thoughts.
"I'll see the lady home," said Ethan, for all the world like this was some sort of date.
"No," said the Vampire he had called Lyle.
"Bloody hell. There's no choice. Buffy will make all of us beg for death if she finds out that you...that we took her mother." He paused in thought. Then he spoke again, addressing the other vampire. "You, whatever your name is...."
"His name is Junior. Lyle Gorch, Jr. 'Cause I made him. Ain't that right Junior?"
"Yep."
"'Junior'," Ethan continued. "Go to Buffy's house. See if she's home, or looks like she has been there. You two probably left Joyce's car out in plain sight, didn't you?" He said with contempt evident in his voice.
For some reason it bothered Joyce that Ethan was more frightened of her daughter, than he was of these two rather large vampires.
Those same rather large vampires now hung their heads at his words. Then Lyle had an idea. "Can't we just kill her? The Slayer'd never know. Or ya' know what? We could turn her. Junior needs a ma'." He clearly favored the second choice.
Ethan considered it for a few seconds. He looked over at Joyce, sitting as still a statue, trying to be brave. Still, she couldn't help but cast him an appealing look. He had to admire her courage. He knew she had to be terrified, but she met his eyes squarely, probably unaware that her eyes were pleading with him.
He smirked at her, and she raised her chin a fraction. He spoke, "Go, Junior. We're taking her home."
"But...," began Lyle.
"It's better all around, Lyle. Buffy angry is not something we want. Distracted, perhaps. Besides, I find the thought of having the Slayers mother in our debt appealing. Don't you?" He asked smoothly. The two vampires thought for a few minutes then finally nodded their agreement.
Then Lyle spoke, "Go ahead, Junior. Be real careful. That Slayer is mighty tricky."
When Junior returned to report that it seemed clear, they untied Joyce. Ethan gave her a hand up. She stood, getting her circulation back. After a few minutes, she hauled off and hit Ethan. She shook her hand in pain, and he held his jaw. Then she said, "okay, I'm ready."
Some twenty minutes later, after a car ride wherein he had kept up a light monologue, Joyce and Ethan pulled up in front of the house. Ethan got out and, apparently without thought, came around and opened her car door. She looked at him startled and he blinked.
Joyce put her key in the lock; his warm hand on hers stopped her from turning it. She turned to face him, eyebrows raised. "Joyce, just so we're clear, you say nothing to Buffy. My associates wouldn't like it. And they've proven how easily they can take you."
"I understand." And she unlocked the door and pushed it open. She turned to say something cutting, but his eyes had widened in horror. She turned. Buffy was in the living room. Fortunately, she hadn't seen them yet. Joyce hurriedly stepped in and slammed the door in Ethan's face.
Buffy came into the foyer. "Hi, Mom. Where have you been?"
"Out."
"Out where, Mom?" Buffy demanded, going to out the window to look at the car pulling away.
Joyce blurted out the first thought she had. "A date. I had a date."
"Anyone I know?" Buffy pressed.
"I-I don't think so."
"He has a nice car. What's his name?"
"Name?" Joyce repeated blankly. Then she decided to take refuge in the age-old way of mother's. Righteous anger. "That's none of your business, young lady. I don't have to stand here and be questioned by you, so if you'll excuse me...." And Joyce marched upstairs. Once inside her room, she collapsed on the bed, and muffled her sobs with a pillow.
Downstairs, Buffy just stared after her mother, stunned. Her Mom's appearance had shocked her. She had looked...tousled. <And why all the secrecy? Is this guy married or something? Oh God, please don't let him be married. Anything but that. > She thought for a moment then amended that <or a vampire, or a demon, or a robot. Or Giles. > Although, that miata had been way beyond Giles' means.
Buffy had just finished her patrol and found herself at Giles'. She knocked on the door. She waited. She knocked louder. A minute or so later she heard footsteps. The small viewdoor opened, and Giles peered out. He saw who it was and cracked the door open.
"Yes?" He inquired from the small opening.
"Giles? Aren't you going to...?"
"Buffy, it's late. Is everything all right?"
"Well, yeah."
"Good. Then I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight." He started to close the door. She put her foot in, and forced it open a little more.
Now she was able to see him. He looked...tousled. He was wearing slacks, zipped but not buttoned. No shoes, socks or shirt. She hadn't realized that he was in such good shape.
"Buffy, it's late," he repeated. "What did you need?"
"I-I finished patrolling and thought I'd check in with you." Before he could respond, she heard something from upstairs. "Sh. Stay here," she said voice low, and took off upstairs before he could say or do anything.
At the top of the stairs she stopped, and stood staring, stunned. There was a naked woman in the bed. And it was more than obvious that she hadn't been sleeping. Giles finally reached the landing.
Buffy looked at him, obviously expecting an explanation. Giles just looked at her; eyebrows raised. She just stared back, clearly not going anywhere without more information.
Giles sighed. "All right, Buffy. You go on downstairs. I'll be right there." Buffy moved to the top of the stairs, and looked back, just in time to see Giles sit on the bed and kiss the woman lingeringly.
Buffy continued down the stairs. She sat on the sofa and was joined a few minutes later by her Watcher.
"What's the problem, Buffy?" He asked shortly.
"Who is she?" Buffy asked in return. She instantly mistrusted the mysterious woman.
He gave her a long look, then answered. "Not that it's any of your concern, but we met at the museum. We've gone out several times. Anything else, or can I go back to bed now?" He asked snippily.
Her eyes narrowed. "Well, excuse me for being worried about you."
"This is you being worried? Ah."
"Yes worried. She could be a witch, or a vampire, or maybe a demon. You can't be too careful in Sunnydale."
"Yes. Of course." He agreed, although he didn't sound sincere.
"What do you think is happening then, Mr. Snippy?"
"You're jealous." He said simply.
"Hah. You wish."
He looked at her in confusion for a second, then laughed. "Good Lord, Buffy. I certainly didn't mean romantically."
She found herself perversely annoyed by his amused dismissal. Before she could say anything, however, he continued.
"You're rather used to being able to show up here at all sorts of ungodly hours, and there I am."
"Well, you're the Watcher," she said defensively.
"Indeed, I am. And I'll always be here for you, Buffy. But you must understand... I have needs. And I'm far too bloody old to be wanking off all of the time," he said bluntly. Then he looked her square in the eye. "My having sex has nothing to do with you. And I have figured out in 25+ years of dating, how not to become intimate with a creature of evil. Trust me."
Her shoulders slumped and he put his arm around them. "I'll always be here for you," he repeated; just before he firmly shut the door.
Buffy sat straight up in her bed. She looked wildly around her room. <A dream? It was a dream? > She took several deep breaths. <A very, very vivid dream> it had felt so real. Not prophetic, just real.
She could still feel the way her 'spidey-sense' had warned her about the woman. She was trouble, every instinct Buffy had was telling her so. She tried to lay back down and go to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come.
Finally, she gave in. She threw on some clothes and went to Giles' place. Outside his door, she pinched herself, just to be sure. Then she knocked. Several moments later he peeped out at her. The door immediately swung open.
"Buffy? Are you all right? Is something wrong?" She took in his appearance. Pajamas, untied robe thrown over; she cocked an ear. No odd sounds. "Buffy?" He repeated, now really concerned.
"Hmmnn? Oh. Sorry, Giles. I just had a really weird dream. Do you mind if I check upstairs?" She asked even as she headed for his staircase. She surveyed his bedroom. Empty. Then she came back downstairs, to find him staring in bemusement at her.
"Buffy? What did you dream?" He asked gently, guiding her to the sofa. She sat awkwardly; embarrassed now that the adrenaline was wearing off. He took in her tense posture. "Would you like some tea?"
"Yes, please," she replied, grateful for the reprieve.
He smiled reassuringly, then went to make the tea. Several minutes later, he returned with the tea tray. He sat next to her and poured. Then he sat back with his teacup and watched her patiently. She felt herself relax in his comforting presence.
"Can you tell me about your dream, Buffy?"
"I'd really rather not. Can I say that it really wigged me, and leave it at that?"
"If you prefer," he said, a bit hurt.
"Giles, I swear it's not a matter of trust. It's just silly and embarrassing. 'Kay?"
"Of course," he said. "Do you feel better, my dear?"
She was surprised to realize that she did feel much better. She nodded with a warm smile.
"Good," he said, smiling also.
She leaned her head against the back of the sofa, and closed her eyes, just letting the warmth, reassurance, and affection he exuded wash over her. Just before she fell into a dreamless sleep, she realized that the warmth had been what she had missed from the dream.
Giles, when he realized that she had dozed off, gently shifted her into a more comfortable position. Then he covered her with a blanket, and went upstairs to bed.
When Buffy woke up early the next morning, she felt refreshed and well rested. She must have made some sound, because Giles came out of the kitchen with food.
"Good morning, Buffy. Are you hungry?"
"Starved," she replied with a smile. Then she stood and stretched. He sat the tray of food on the coffee table and they commenced eating. Suddenly, Buffy stopped. "Oh my God. Mom...!"
"I called your mother a little while ago. I told her that you were here and why."
Buffy relaxed. "Thanks, Giles. You think of everything."
"I do try."
"And I appreciate it." She said sincerely. Then she looked at him very seriously. "Giles, do you think I take you for granted?" At his blank look, she went on. "You know, just assume you have no life and will always be here, waiting. Do you?"
He looked at her, at a loss as to how to answer. "First of all, Buffy, I will always be here. There is nothing in my life that would ever take precedence over you."
"Why?" She asked bluntly. "You don't have to do this any more. You could have a life."
"D-do you want me to go...?"
"God, no, Giles. I don't think I could do this without you. It's just that ... sometimes I feel guilty that, well, you're alone."
"Alone?" He snorted. "With you lot always about? Alone I am not."
"No, I mean ...alone. No...female companionship." She said delicately.
"Buffy? A-are we talking about sex?" He asked, the tips of his ears growing red.
Buffy felt color suffuse her face. She nodded, mutely.
"Ah. You're worried that I'm not...." He stopped, completely flummoxed. He really wanted to know what she had dreamed to bring this on. There was no doubt in his mind that her dream had started this. "Why are you suddenly ...concerned about...this?"
"I worry about you. And until recently, I never realized that you... well... have... needs."
"Ah, I see." And he thought he did. When he and Joyce had had sex, it had really shocked Buffy. But apparently it brought home certain facts. Such as that her Watcher was a man. And men have needs, as she had so quaintly put it. And her dream must have.... His thought trailed off as she spoke again.
"Giles?" And she stopped.
"Buffy, you know that you can tell me anything."
"I do know that. But this isn't a tell. It's an ask. A personal question. I...do you... what do you.... Never mind."
"Are you certain?"
"Uber-certain." She paused. "I guess I should get going. Let you get on with your fun Saturday."
He grinned at her. "Yes. I work at the museum until noon, Then back here for more research. Almost too much fun."
She stared at him, curious. "What are you researching? There's nothing big going on is there?"
"No. Just some information I intend to cross-reference."
"Anything I can help with?" She asked, surprising herself as much as him.
He looked at her, uncertain as to the reason for her sudden eagerness for cross-referencing. "Of course. Assistance is always welcome. As are you."
"'Kay. I'll see you later. Say 1:00?"
"That sounds fine. I'll bring some lunch. Oriental?"
"You know what I like."
*************
That afternoon, Buffy and Giles sat in his living room, with several books scattered about. The remnants of lunch had already been disposed of.
In between bouts of research they chatted. They discussed the museum and how weird it was not to have the Library any longer. Training had become more complicated, due to the lack of space in his living room.
"Giles, we so need a bigger place."
"Indeed," he replied absently. Then her words sank in. "we so need a bigger place." Giles felt his eartips redden as the more domestic connotation of her words struck him.
Apparently, she had the same thought, because she bit her lip, then rushed into speech, her eyes wide. "...to train. We need a bigger place to train. Because of course, we don't have...." She trailed off in embarrassment.
"No, of course not." He hastened to reassure her, still reeling from the barrage of images her words had called up. At her hurt pout he spoke without thinking it through. "Not that you wouldn't be welc.... Ah...not ... er...." Finally he stopped, and just looked at her.
By unspoken agreement they moved on to other subjects, and were able to make it through the rest of the afternoon without any further...awkwardness.
******
Joyce stopped at the grocery on her way home from the gallery that afternoon. As she pushed her cart through the feminine hygiene aisle, she heard the now-familiar voice of Ethan Rayne.
"Fancy meeting you here."
She closed her eyes. This had to be a bad dream. When she opened her eyes, there he stood, casually standing across the narrow aisle from her, cocky grin firmly in place.
As a woman tried to squeeze between them, Ethan moved to stand next to Joyce.
She looked at him, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" She demanded harshly.
"Now, now, luv. Is that any way to speak to the man who saved your life? Smile friendly, Joyce, we're starting to attract attention." And so they were. People passing them were staring. Joyce took a deep breath and smiled. "There's a good girl."
When she spoke it was through clenched teeth. "What do you want, Ethan?"
"I could just be lonely for your stimulating presence." She shot him a withering glance, then gasped in shock as he placed an arm around her. "Be cooperative, luv. I'm hardly going to ravish you. Not here in the middle of the...um...." He stopped, finally realizing what aisle they were in. "Er...this aisle...." He finally finished, lamely. Joyce rolled her eyes at him and he laughed.
He started to push the cart, but she stopped it, not having completed her business in this aisle. Not that she had the slightest intention of making her selection with him smirking at her. He already knew far too much about her.
So he got to stand in the feminine hygiene aisle, sticking out like a sore thumb. He acknowledged the hit with grace. She couldn't help but grin at him in return. <It really is too bad he's evil. He's awfully attractive. > Joyce was aghast at that errant thought.
He leaned towards her to whisper in her ear. "I just wanted to remind you to keep quiet. It would be a dreadful shame if Buffy were to curtail your...activities." He let his arm slowly slip from around her. Then he brought her hand to his lips. "Until later, my dear." Then he grinned impishly, and left.
*******
That night Buffy and Willow were at the Bronze. Oz was playing, so the girls were dancing together. When the music was over, they made their way back to the table.
Amy (finally human again approached. "Hi Willow, Hi Buffy. How are you guys?"
"Good." They responded in unison, then grinned at each other. Amy sat with them and they chatted. They talked for a while, and then Amy turned to Buffy.
"Hey, Buffy. Who's your Mom's new boyfriend?"
"What? How do you know?"
"I saw them at the grocery. They seemed pretty...cozy."
"You saw him?" Buffy demanded. "I haven't seen him. What did he look like?"
"Tall, slender. Cute. For an old guy."
"Oh God. How old?"
Amy shrugged. "I dunno' Giles' age, maybe."
"Oh," said Buffy, relieved. "That's not old." Willow and Amy exchanged looks that plainly said 'since when?', but said nothing. Buffy continued, "what else, Amy?"
"Um...dark hair. Nice clothes. Wicked grin. That's all I noticed. Sorry."
"No, Amy, that's great. Thanks. Now I just need to figure out who he is."
"Buffy?" Willow asked. "Your Mom is dating a mystery guy?"
"Yeah. And she won't tell me anything about him. I'm afraid he's married, or a vampire."
"Well," said Amy. "He's not a vampire-it was daytime."
"Well that's something to mark off of my worry list." Buffy did continue to worry about other things however. He wasn't a vampire, and he wasn't Giles <thank God>. Which still left married or demon. Or both. Married demon, like that demon Giles knew. Weird.
That night's patrol was eventful. There were several newly rising vampires. Buffy managed to stake five of six. She went home grumbling about the one that got away.
That night, Buffy had the very same extremely realistic dream. Knocking on Giles' door, him answering, half-dressed. Odd noise upstairs, running up the stairs. Only this time, both Cordelia and Willow were in the bed. She woke up shocked.
It was 3:00 am when she knocked on his door for real. A few minutes later it swung open. "Buffy. Dream?"
"Yeah. Can I...?" And she rushed upstairs. Empty. She slowly returned downstairs. "Sorry to keep bugging you, Giles."
"Now, don't concern yourself. I can always sleep in tomorrow. It is Sunday, after all." Buffy gave him a warm smile, appreciated his understanding. "Now, my dear, would you like some tea?"
"No thanks." She yawned. "I'll just go on home and let you get some sleep." And she moved towards the door. His hand on her arm stopped her.
"Why don't you go and crawl in the bed. I'll camp here." He said, indicating the sofa.
"I couldn't impose...."
"Nonsense. It's not an imposition. As we all know, a tired Slayer is a cranky Slayer. Off with you now."
She went upstairs, and without the slightest hesitation, stripped to just her underthings, then crawled into his still-warm bed. She slept peacefully.
The next morning, Giles again called Joyce, and they shared a moment of mutual concern, before the now-common awkwardness set in.
Giles let Buffy sleep as long as possible. When he went to wake her, he hesitated briefly, before gently shaking her almost bare shoulder.
"Mmmnn. Giles?" She stretched. "Good morning."
"Good morning, Buffy. Are you hungry?"
"Of course," she said with a laugh.
"Good, brunch awaits." And he left her to get dressed. As she threw on her clothes, she had an odd thought. <I could get used to this. But I'd need to keep some clothes here. >
Later that afternoon, after eating and cleaning up after, they sat side-by-side on the sofa and talked. Buffy mentioned the newly rising vampires.
"I'll ask Willow to search for an unusually large number of dead. I haven't read about it in the paper," Giles said. "Perhaps they were... transients." It was almost a question.
Buffy mulled it over for a minute. "I don't think they were homeless. Would the PC term be residentially challenged?" He looked at her blankly, then realized that she was teasing him.
"Yes, very amusing. It's a very serious thing to be without...."
"C'mon Giles. I was teasing you. Not making fun of those less fortunate. Lighten up."
"It's not...."
"Giles, if I can joke about dying, then yes it is." He looked at her for a moment. Then, he acknowledged her point by changing the subject.
"Would you like to put on some music?"
"I'm afraid of what you call music." But she got up crossed to his record collection. "I'm shocked, no Cibo Matto." She idly looked through the music, until she came across Meatloaf. She looked at him, stunned. "Meatloaf?"
"Wha...? Oh, yes. I actually liked II better than the first. Although they're both...." He trailed off as he realized that she wasn't listening. She was just staring at him, her mouth agape.
Finally, she shook herself out of it, and put on the CD. She sat beside him and they talked about music. They argued amicably over the relative merits of Pearl Jam and The Bay City Rollers. They were surprised to find common ground with The Eagles.
The afternoon passed all too quickly and soon it was time for Buffy to go home, for an early dinner with her mother.
After a quiet dinner, with almost no conversation, Buffy patrolled. After patrolling, she checked in with Giles. As she was getting ready to leave, he again stopped her with a warm hand on her arm.
"Buffy, tomorrow is Monday. I should like to get some sleep, tonight." She flushed in embarrassment. "No, no, my dear. That isn't...you're always welcome here, day or night. But, since it seems that you'll show up here distressed, I suggest that you call your mother and just sleep here."
"S-spend the night? Here? W-with you?" She asked, shocked.
"Buffy, you've slept here the better part of the last two nights. And through some miracle of self-control, I've managed to keep my baser instincts at bay," he responded sarcastically.
She flushed. "That isn't what I meant. Well, not exactly."
"Then what, 'exactly', did you mean?"
"Mom," she replied succinctly.
"Buffy, your mother knows that you were here. I called her." Confusion was written all over his face.
"But, waking up in the middle of the night is not the same thing as planning to sleep here. Not at all." He still didn't get it. "Giles, just trust me."
"Of course. You handle it as you see fit."
"It would be better if I went home."
"I'd really prefer you to stay. Please?" Buffy's already hypersensitive mind infused his request with less than innocent connotations. She couldn't have said 'no', if she had to. Her eyes holding his, she nodded slowly. He smiled a 'thank you'.
**************
Joyce answered the phone. "Hello? Hi, honey. What's...? You're staying at Willow's? I don't remember you telling..., oh, I see. Yes, of course. See you tomorrow. Bye."
As she hung up the phone, Joyce turned to face the man standing behind her. He took in the angry expression at a glance. "Joyce? What is it? Is something wrong with Buffy?"
"She lied to me."
"Oh, is that all?"
She turned her anger on him. "Ethan, what do you want?" She demanded.
"Now, now, luv. Why don't we sit down and discuss this calmly? Hmmm?"
Joyce reluctantly let him lead her to the living room.
"Now, start at the beginning, Buffy lied about what?"
Joyce hesitated briefly. She knew that Ethan was not a nice person; and more than likely couldn't care less about her woes. But as she looked at him, sitting across from her, she forgot that. He sat, leaning towards her, giving every appearance of concern. Joyce spoke, "Buffy said that she was staying with Willow."
"The little red-haired witch?"
"Hmm? Oh, Yes. But I could tell by her tone that she was lying. Why, after all that we've gone through, why now?"
"Perhaps she senses that you, my dear, are being less than honest, and she wants to punish you." He paused. "You are being less than honest, aren't you?" He asked silkily.
"Yes, damn you. And you're right she knows that I haven't been honest." She rushed on to explain; "she doesn't know what happened." Then she blushed. "I told her that I had a date. All she saw was your car. I have no idea what she thinks happened. And now this ... lying to me again. I thought we were passed all that." Her anger and hurt were evident.
Ethan couldn't have explained to her why he was so interested. He could have made a good case for 'know your enemy'. And that might work on Joyce. But Ethan was honest with himself, if no one else. Something about Joyce appealed to him.
Maybe it was the aura of innocence she projected. Although some might call it cluelessness. She was attractive. And brave (a quality he admired in others since he lacked it himself . Then there was the added excitement that comes from danger. Just sitting there could get him seriously pummeled by either Buffy or Ripper.
As he looked into Joyce's blue eyes, he made his choice. "C'mon, luv." He stood and offered her his hand.
"What are you doing?"
"We're going to go out and get a drink."
"B-but, I don't want to...." Even as she spoke, she had taken his warm hand. She was surprised to find herself walking to the door with him.
*****
Since Buffy didn't bring any nightclothes, Giles had loaned her one of his Oxford shirts. She crawled into Giles' bed, and snuggled under the blanket.
She slept peacefully for awhile, then she had the dream. But this time he didn't answer. The door opened to her touch. She went slowly up the stairs, to find him lying on his side in the bed. He was alone, and had a blanket covering him to the waist, his chest bare. As she hesitated in the doorway, he smiled warmly at her. He raised the covers invitingly. "Buffy, Dearheart, I've been waiting for you, what took you so long?" He chided gently. She could feel the waves of affection and warmth coming from him.
As she moved to join him, she discovered that she too was naked. She slid into the bed and his waiting embrace. As his strong arms closed around her, he began ravishing her mouth. She surrendered to his demanding tongue.
His mouth left hers and kissed her neck, then her shoulders and chest. Finally he paid homage to her breasts. He nibbled and sucked and licked, as all she could do was arch toward him and hold his head to her.
Then he slowly slid down her body, blazing a trail of nibbling kisses down her torso. He didn't stop until he reached the juncture of her thighs. As his tongue teased her, his fingers slowly entered one at a time, until he had three of them stroking in and out of her warmth.
She arched off of the bed, and screamed his name as she came against his mouth. He continued to thrust in and out of her, building her higher as she tried to come back down. Leaving his fingers in place, he kissed his way back up her body. As he took her mouth in a possessive kiss, he eased his fingers out of her and replaced them with his rock-hard penis.
She gasped as he filled her. She moaned his name over and over as he thrust in and out of her, taking her again and again to the edge. Then, again screaming his name, she went over.
She heard him call her name repeatedly. She awoke with a start, and sat straight up in bed. Since he was hovering anxiously over her, calling her name, she slammed right into him. His arms closed around her automatically.
"B-Buffy? My dear, are you all right?"
She looked at him blankly. She was still shaking from her orgasms. He, thinking that she had had a bad dream, held her trembling body tightly to him. Buffy struggled to catch her breath, still reeling from her oh-so-very realistic dream. She had no idea what he saw when he looked at her face. But it caused him to draw back from her a bit, although he still held her.
Then he rushed into a stuttering explanation. "S-sorry, I d-didn't mean to s-startle you. I heard you c-call my name. And w-when I got up here, you w-were thrashing about and moaning. A-are you all right?"
She flushed in embarrassment, no longer able to meet his green eyes. "I'm fine, Giles. Really. I-I just had another dream." <the most intense dream I've ever had>, she thought, feeling the moisture between her legs.
As she began to regain her equilibrium, she became intensely aware that his arms still held her against his chest. She wondered vaguely if he could feel her heartbeat. Then realized that she could feel his heart beating, quite rapidly. She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his heart.
He looked down at her head resting against him, too startled to move. When he realized what she was doing, he relaxed a little. He was almost afraid to ask about the dream, if it caused this reaction in her. Although, when she had first opened her eyes, it hadn't been fear he'd seen. If he had to name that expression, he would have to go with ...passion.
Finally, she seemed to be calm. She pulled carefully out of his arms, still not meeting his eyes. He tipped her chin up, so that she had to look him in the eyes. "Buffy? Do you want to try to go back to sleep? Or would you like me to fix us some tea?"
"I...." She stopped there, as she realized that what she wanted was to find out just how realistic her dream had been. She shook off that thought. "I guess sleep." She didn't sound too certain.
"Do you want me to stay?" He asked, pointing to a comfortable looking chair by the window.
"God, Giles. Not in that."
"I certainly can't...." He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the bed. She licked her lips.
"I-I don't see why not. You're the one who mentioned your incredible self-control." She pointed out with an impish grin. Although if she were honest, she was the one who seemed to be having self-control issues.
"Yes, well...that was sleeping on an entirely different floor." But he was smiling, relieved that she seemed to be more herself.
"What's the matter, Giles? Scared?" She teased him, hoping that he took her up on her challenge.
"Terrified. Perhaps, you'll think I'm a demon, and in your sleep, pummel me. I shouldn't like to have to explain that." But even as he spoke, he rose and moved to the other side of the bed. He hesitantly lifted the covers and climbed in beside her. She lay stiffly on the other side of the bed. Then as his warmth started to seep over to her, she drifted off to a blessedly dreamless sleep. Not so for our Watcher, but that's a different story.
****
Joyce was surprised to discover that she was having a good time. Ethan had pulled out all of the stops and was utterly charming. They had a few drinks, and danced. Joyce had forgotten how nice it could be just to be held. Ethan felt quite a bit different than her ex-husband. Hank was a big man, powerfully built. Ethan was slender, though wiry. And he was an excellent dancer, which Hank certainly wasn't.
Ethan too was having a good time. It had been quite a while since he had just had an evening out, with an attractive woman. Joyce's face had a pleasant glow from the slight exertion of dancing.
He took her home around 1:00 am, and it wasn't until they pulled up in front of her house that she remembered Buffy, and the reason she and Ethan were out to begin with. He couldn't help but be pleased, on a masculine level that he'd been able to distract her so. He got out and opened her door for her, then saw her to the door.
He knew that she expected him to try something fresh, and resolved to do the unexpected. "Would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow, Joyce?"
"I-I. why?"
"Because I enjoyed tonight. And I rather thought that you did, too. Was I wrong?"
"No, you're not wrong. I-I have enjoyed myself. But.is that your only reason?" Her blue eyes begged for honesty.
"Oddly enough, yes."
"Then. I'd like that. Dinner." He smiled
"Then I'll pick you around 7:00. Nice casual." She nodded, and he brushed her lips with his. "Goodnight, Joyce."
"G-goodnight." As Joyce walked into her living room, she had one clear thought. <What have I gotten myself into? >
****
Buffy woke with a feeling of contentment. She was cuddled up to Giles' back, with her arm over his waist. She rested her cheek against his back for a minute, until she felt him stir. Then she hastily removed her arm.
He woke with the knowledge that a soft form was pressing against his back in the most pleasant way, her arm around him. As he climbed up from the mire of sleep he realized that his companion was Buffy. He couldn't help his body's instant reaction to that knowledge. As he felt her pull her arm away, but not her soft body, he was at a loss as to how to extricate himself from this soon-to-be awkward situation.
"Giles?"
"Hmmm?"
"Do you care if I hop in the shower?"
"No. You go ahead, I'll start breakfast."
"Are you sure? I don't want you to be late for work. Not because of me."
"Buffy, there's plenty of time," he said after a glance at his clock. "I don't normally get up for another 45 minutes."
"Great. Thanks, Giles." And she patted his shoulder.
He breathed a sigh of relief. He would have his body back under control by the time she came out of the shower.
After they had both showered and had their breakfast, they got ready. Giles offered to drop Buffy off at her house on his way to work, but she declined, knowing that her mother would see his car.
When her mother got home from work that evening, they had a huge fight. Her mother accused her of lying, which Buffy could not deny. Joyce demanded to know where Buffy had spent the night. Buffy looked at her, her chin raised stubbornly. Then Buffy countered with questions of her own regarding Joyce's whereabouts.
"This isn't about me, young lady. I want to know where the hell you were last night, Buffy. And I want to know right now."
Buffy just raised her chin a little more, "I'm eighteen, Mom."
"I don't care if you're twenty. As long as you're under my roof...." She trailed off, aghast at what she had almost said. But it was enough for Buffy, who drew back as if slapped. Then she looked at her mother without expression. Then, without a sound, Buffy went up the stairs.
A few minutes later, Buffy returned, carrying an overnight bag. Joyce was speechless, and could only reach out her hand as if to touch her daughter. But Buffy flinched from her touch.
At the door, Buffy paused. She spoke without turning to look at her mother. "I'll probably be at Giles'. I know that he'll let me stay." Joyce breathed a sigh of relief. Then Buffy opened the door and left. Outside, she stopped. Despite her anger, she hadn't been able to just leave; knowing that Joyce would have been worried.
A short while later, Buffy knocked on Giles' door. He took in her sad expression and overnight bag without saying a word. He merely relieved her of the bag, and ushered her in. His unquestioning welcome broke her resolve and she started to cry, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.
He enfolded her in a hug and moved with her to the sofa. He held her as she cried. In between sobs, she tried to tell him what had happened.
"You and your mother had a disagreement?" Buffy nodded woefully. "And you left, telling her that you were coming here?" Again she nodded. "But, you didn't tell her that you spent the night here last night, which is all she really wanted to know?" Buffy looked at him, stubbornness written all over her face. He quirked an eyebrow at her, she pouted. "You need to talk to your mother, Buffy." She looked at him, hurt. "Which does not mean that you can't stay here; of course you can. For as long as you need or want to. But you really should try to work things out with your mother. She loves you very much."
She wanted to refuse, but she knew he was right. "All right, but tomorrow. 'Kay?"
"As you wish, Buffy." He realized that he was holding her against him once again. Before he could move away, she snuggled against him with a contented sigh, listening to his heartbeat.
With a self-depreciating smile, he surrendered for this moment, and rested his cheek atop her head. After several minutes, Buffy drew back, embarrassed. But her Watcher just gave her an understanding, reassuring smile.
"Are you hungry, Buffy?"
"Yes," she answered, surprised that she was. When she had arrived, her stomach had been in knots from the argument. As usual, he had soothed her.
"Well, then, Let's see what's in the pantry, shall we?"
"Let's shall." She grinned at him, unrepentant while he pretended to frown at her. They went into the small kitchen, and Buffy perched on the counter, while Giles threw together a light dinner.
Later, Buffy went to patrol. She had run into four new vampires. When she had finished the last one off, she heard a sound from behind her. The newbie from the night before. Buffy smiled ferally. She had moved toward him, then she saw a large vampire wearing a cowboy hat. He growled menacingly.
As the two vampires circled her, Buffy kicked the cowboy with her left foot, while staking the newbie. Then she pummeled the cowboy. Before she could stake him, she sensed another vampire nearby. She looked around quickly. Lyle Gorch. Her eyes narrowed.
"Lyle, what are you doing here? Didn't your last visit teach you anything?" Before he could reply, she casually staked Junior.
Lyle growled in anger. "That was Junior."
"And that affects me how?"
"I knew we should have done your ma' when we had her"
Buffy froze in shock. Then she grabbed him by the throat. "What?" She demanded.
"I-I ...uh...."
"You 'had' my mom? Had her how? When?" Buffy asked quietly, her voice harsh with anger.
"Well...uh...we kidnapped her. We was going to use her as bait."
"We?" She looked at the ashes lying on the ground. "I don't think you're a 'we' anymore."
"I still have friends. And we took your ma' real easy the first time." Lyle thought that he could distract her. All it did was anger her. She pummeled him; she banged his head into a dumpster, repeatedly. She threw him against a tree, and a building. Lyle was dizzy, and he hurt. Ethan had been right about the Slayer's reaction. Buffy took out her cross and placed it against Lyles throat. "AAAHHH." He screamed in pain.
"You. Stay. Away. From. My. Mother." She enunciated each word carefully. Then she paused. "Why am I warning you? I can stake you." Except that she didn't have another stake handy. She released him briefly to grab a makeshift stake, but that was all the time he needed to escape. He tipped his hat, and ran. "Dammit, dammit, dammit." Buffy ran to Giles' house, which was close.
"Giles!" She bellowed as she came barreling in his place. She startled him so badly that he dropped the teakettle that he was filling.
"Good Lord, Buffy. What's the matter?"
"Mom." She said through gasping breaths. "Lyle Gorch. Back. Said they had..." breath "...kidnapped Mom. Gotta' get over there." But Giles was way ahead of her. He grabbed his car keys and they were out the door.
In the car, Buffy was able to give him a clearer account of what had happened. Giles was relieved that Joyce wasn't kidnapped now. At least as far as they knew. When they pulled up at the house, Buffy darted out of the car.
Giles caught up with her on the stairs. "She's not downstairs. I hope she's in her room." Buffy sounded desperate. She pushed open the door to her Mom's room.
All they saw was a man's bare butt as the light from the hallway hit it, and then they heard Joyce's voice. "Oh God, Ethan, yes." Buffy pulled the door closed quickly. She and Giles exchanged stunned looks. Without a word the walked down the stairs. At the bottom of the steps they looked at each other again. Giles moved to the door.
"Where are you going?" Buffy asked, frightened.
"Home. I'm going to get very pissed, then hopefully pass out and not dream about that." He said, quirking his thumb upward.
Buffy spoke in a very small voice. "Wait for me."
Three hours later, Giles awoke with a start. He was in his bed in only his boxers. Buffy was laying next to him, asleep in one of his shirts. He closed his eyes in pain. He nudged her. "Hmmm? What do you want, Giles? I'm sleepy."
"How did I get here?" He asked, having no memory beyond drinking a half bottle of scotch.
"I brought you up after you passed out. I had no such luck. Slayer stamina or something I guess. Go back to sleep." And she rolled onto her side, and went back to sleep. Giles after a cautious moment followed suit. Just before he drifted off, he wondered if he had undressed himself of if she....