Title: Headed Off at the Pass (2/2)
Author: katekat
Disclaimer: These characters aren’t mine. Plot lines aren’t even really mine. All hail the mighty and benevolent Joss for making it all possible.
Feedback: Welcomed and appreciated.
Email: katekat1010@yahoo.com
Lips crushed together, arms wrapped around each other, they were completely oblivious to the party behind them until it crashed through the doorway and nearly collided with them. Giles pulled away from Buffy to see a mass of laughing, dancing, whirling, college students, all chanting at the top of their lungs. He quickly moved them both out of the path of the conga line.
Buffy wrapped him tighter in her arms and smiled at the passing revelers.
“Buffy?” Giles murmured into the top of her head, “do you want . . .I mean, c-can we . . . can we go to my . . . “
The laugh burbled out of her and tickled his chin. “Giles, are you trying – in a terribly debonair way – to invite me to continue this at your place?” She looked into his eyes, watching the blush move from neck to cheeks to hairline. She lightly smacked his chest. “Hey, you can’t go into uber-bashful mode now; you just liberated me from my evil not-quite-boyfriend. And made a very large and completely open-ended promise that I expect you to fill to the letter.”
Slightly chastised, Giles grinned unrepentantly at the woman in his arms as his blush faded. She was far more understanding and intuitive than he had any right to expect. She always had been. He’d just never truly been on the receiving end of it.
“Then, before I get caught by some passing member of the faculty and get fired for making a pass at one of my students, can we please go back to my apartment?”
“Oh, so you’re just worried about your reputation huh?” Buffy retorted.
“Truthfully, I don’t give a damn about my reputation. But if you don’t come back with me I’m not going to be able to give you much of anything, much less everything.” Uncharacteristically, Giles pouted, just a little bit, trying to turn the tables on Buffy. His _expression turned dark and mournful and his mouth turned down. He was adorable, especially because Buffy had never seen this side of him before, and she could still see the laughter dancing in his eyes.
She giggled at his mournful _expression. “Okay, I give. We’ll go back to your place. But only if you never use that pout on me again!” She laced strong fingers through his and began tugging them in the direction of his apartment.
“Unfair. I’ve finally discovered an _expression that approximates your pout, am getting my way, and you tell me I can never use it again? Buffy, you’re a cruel, cruel woman.” Giles threw an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his body, reveling in the fact that he could finally do so.
Buffy snuggled close, “Fair’s fair. You’ve gotten your way more than once tonight. If I let you call all the shots, you’re going to think you deserve to win all the time. And Watcher-mine, you know I can’t have you thinking that. I’m the one who’s supposed to win.”
“Don’t worry. Your winning streak isn’t in jeopardy. You’ve been getting your way with me for years with a single pout. I just want to be able to hold my own.”
“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’m in a revealing mood tonight. Giles, if you kiss me like you did back at that party, you’ll get your way every time, pout or no pout.”
Delight surged through him at her words. He barely restrained the shout of happiness that threatened to explode from his chest. “I suppose if that’s the key to getting my way, I’ll have to practice a great deal. A very great deal.”
“Practice, practice, practice. Now you really do sound all Watchery. Next you’ll be trying to get me to train, or go on patrol, or something.” Buffy couldn’t stop their silly conversation, any more than she could quell the pure joy that seemed to be shining from every one of her pores. She knew this was crazy – an hour ago she would’ve been the one making guppy-noises at the mere mention of herself and Giles together – but every single cell in her body had done a 180 after his lips touched hers.
“Well, officially employed or not, you know I always take my job *very* seriously.” His low tone held a challenge and a promise.
Buffy felt giddy at the thought of being taken *very seriously* by this new, luscious Giles. She arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How seriously?”
They stopped walking, confronted by Giles’ front door. It seemed like they’d flown over the intervening distance. Giles pulled Buffy inside, put his back to the closed door, and drew Buffy into his arms.
“This seriously.”
He pulled her closer. She tilted her mouth to his. Both shuddered at the heat they generated from just a kiss. Giles tried to convey, with lips, and teeth and tongue, just how much he wanted her. Just how much he loved her. He put everything into building the heat between their bodies, and felt Buffy tremble in his arms.
She was blown away. She could feel his passion pulse through every taste of his mouth. Their first kiss had been good enough to give her aftershocks. Their second had made her want to laugh with joy. Their third. . . their third was so full and tender, so hot and sweet and passionate that she wanted to rip Giles’ clothes off him or sink into a puddle on the floor. Instead, she kissed him back with as much fervor as she could, wordlessly trying to show him just how much he affected her.
Giles groaned under her mouth, his knees already unsteady and trembling with need. His hands shaped her body, fingers drawing lines across her back, over her waist, clutching at her ass to pull her closer.
Buffy gasped into his mouth and ground against him, trying to get inside his skin. Then she realized they were still fully clothed and neither one of them had done anything about it. She broke their kiss.
“Giles? You know you’re wearing way too many clothes, right?” She took up their bantering tone again, proud that her voice was mostly steady between pants.
“Isn’t that my line?” he growled. His fingers splayed along her ribcage, moving in slow circles from her back to her ribs, lightly grazing her breasts as he did so. She gasped at the contact; and her gasp set him on fire. He could barely stop himself from tearing her evening outfit from her, or at least untying the convenient knot at the back of her top.
“I don’t know? Is it?” She started slowly unbuttoning his shirt, planting honeyed kisses along his chest as she revealed it.
“Dear lord, Buffy!” Giles gritted out as he felt her lips against his collarbone. She nipped and kissed her way from there almost to his navel, hearing him gasp over and over as she planted more kisses along his chest.
Buffy giggled again. “Hmmm, ‘dear lord’? That’s not the sound of a man who thinks I’m wearing too many clothes.” She traced fingers over his chest and back, lightly stroking, softly kissing, while Giles unsuccessfully tried to free himself from his sleeves.
“Bloody hell I don’t!” he said, finally shrugging the cloth from his wrists. He swept Buffy into his arms and began marching her up the stairs. He continued, “You’ve got so much on I think you might be suffocating!”
Buffy giggled against the hollow in his neck. Giggles turned into kisses, then bites. After a moment, she realized that all movement toward the loft had stopped. She dragged her head away from his lovely skin to ask, “Giles? Any reason we’ve stopped all forward progress?”
Giles stood panting, paused in mid-step, and attempted to quell the shivers her teeth raised.
“N-no, well, um… Buffy you really ought to think about not using your teeth until we’re somewhere safe.” He panted for a moment more, his breath soft on her check. “Preferably when I can return the favor.”
“Hmmm, I suppose I can take that into consideration . . . but Giles, you taste so good. I might just have to overrule you, safe or not.” Buffy went back to nibbling, slowly moving her lips up to his ear. An agonized groan filled with laughter rumbled up from his chest.
After a few seconds, he resumed his progress upstairs, cursing under his breath at the number of steps. Buffy continued to giggle into his collarbone, particularly when he stumbled on the last step.
“Giles? Think you can make it to the bed? Or should I be the one carrying you?”
“Maybe next time.”
She thrilled at the promise in his voice. [Next time! I’m suspiciously happy that there’s going to be a next time and we haven’t even had a first time. This is crazy. I love it.]
“Next time, huh? Cocky, aren’t we?”
“No, just . . .” He’d reached the bed. Laying her against the coverlets, he drew her arms from around his neck, leaning in for another kiss as he stretched her arms above her head. He leaned above her, captured hands close, and drove his hips against hers in a sudden move that made her break their kiss and gasp for air.
“. . . hopeful.”
Kissing and biting her neck, he released her hands so that he could rest his own along the bottom of her top. His fingers moved unerringly toward the tie in back, when he realized there was a much better way to get his Slayer unclothed. He stood up and extended his hand, “Come here, Buffy.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He was beautiful standing before her, shirt off, breathing heavily. “Why am I leaving the bed when you just expended so much energy getting me into it?”
The smile reached his eyes first. “Stand up and find out”
She accepted his hand, stood, and felt him turn her around. “Giles?”
“Patience, Buffy. Haven’t I told you yet that patience is a virtue?” His hands smoothed down her sides. His lips moved to her neck again, and he pushed her hair to one side so he could kiss his way across her blushing shoulders. The top, what little there was of it, laced down her back. She was so alluring and he wondered if she knew the thrall in which she had him. He slowly moved unsteady hands towards the laces, untying the knot he’d noticed earlier, kissing the skin underneath every lace. When he’d loosened the ties enough he crossed his arms around her front and slid the top sensuously off her skin.
His hands curled around her from behind, pulling her against him. She hummed as he drew her close, feeling his chest against her back, his arms around her, his fingers stroking paths of fire along her skin. His mouth came down on her neck, biting harder this time, until she almost cried out. He cupped her breasts, fingers twisting her nipples softly, feeling them tighten.
“Harder Giles, please?” she whispered, sending an electric shock through his body. He complied, slowly twisting harder and harder until she was panting at every turn. He held her close as she writhed in his arms. Her moans and whimpers distracted him from his delightful worship, and he moved up her neck to capture her lips with his.
She turned in his arms and it was his turn to gasp as her breasts came in contact with his chest. [So bloody smooth, every inch of her skin.] His hands moved to the top button of her pants. Both watched as he pulled, popping one button after the other. Buffy shivered and Giles looked up.
“Cold?” His hands smoothed over her hips, turning the top of her pants down, revealing the black lace beneath. She shivered again.
She smiled, “Not exactly.”
He grinned as he pushed her gaping pants off her hips.
“Good.”
He helped her step out of them and looked at the delicious woman before him. She grinned at him, feeling a little self-conscious standing before him in nothing but her panties.
“Giles, once again we have a clothing problem.” He arched an eyebrow and smiled.
“Do we?”
“Yeah. You’re still wearing too much in the way of clothes.” She put her hands on her hips, “I demand you get out of them right now!”
“You demand, huh? And why am I giving in to you?” She turned her budding pout on full force and he couldn’t resist. He stepped close, one hand undoing the buttons of his pants, the other grabbing her by the shoulder to bring her to him. He leaned down and bit at her pouting lower lip, sucking it into his mouth. Her hands moved to his waist, helping him unfasten and push his pants and underwear down his legs.
She reached out, placing her palm against his raging erection. He gasped, her touch sending a warm jolt down the length of him. A slow burn spread through every nerve in his body. He grabbed her shoulders tightly to crush her against him and shuddered.
“Cold?” she asked with a grin as her hand curled around him. His hips arched towards her, silently begging her not to stop stroking him.
He gave a rough laugh. “Not . . . exactly.” One of his hands curled between her legs, stroking her through the lace that covered her. She moaned and leaned into him, kissing his collarbone again, hips slowly arching towards his questing fingers. He ducked his head, lips in the hollow of her neck, and sucked her skin open-mouthed. She pushed herself closer, trying to drive his fingers deeper, as her hand moved urgently on his cock. She’d never felt this – this rising tide that felt like it was sweeping her away, this urgent need that centered between her legs but burned over every inch of her skin.
She thrashed against his hand and suddenly it wasn’t enough. She wanted him inside her, and couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed him towards the bed, until he fell backwards onto the coverlet. He looked rumpled, panting and so very hard for her. She trailed one hand from his shoulder to hip, loving the feel of his skin, reveling in the scars and the fine hairs that brushed against her fingertips.
“You know, you’re amazing.” She breathed as her hand closed on his cock and began to stroke.
Delight glinted in his face again, laughter mixed with a lust so deep it made his voice hoarse. “You haven’t seen anything yet, I promise.”
She smiled, “That’s a promise I’m going to make you keep.”
She stood above him, radiant and ready, and ripped her panties from her body. He reached to pull her closer, bring her against him, and she straddled him, leaning down for a kiss.
He drank deeply from her lips, growling and moaning as her body moved over his own. His hands moved from her waist to her breasts and back, to pull her ass closer to him. His cock was captured between them, painfully hard. His hips began thrusting of their own accord, reveling in the silk of her skin. He groaned again against her lips, a moan of frustration this time, wanting her so badly, but unable to properly express his longing.
Buffy stretched against Giles’ body, loving the sharp feel of his muscles, the warmth of his cock against her belly. She let him bring her hips in line with his and gasped as the tip of his cock rubbed against her clit. He moved between the lips of her pussy, slowly grinding, becoming more slippery as he moved. She tilted her hips further, and he slowly entered her.
She rocked back and forth, grinding down inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside her. He stilled her moving hips with a touch, moaning, “Wait, Buffy, just there . . .” and then, when she’d quieted above him, arched into her with all the strength he possessed. She cried out, hips driving against him, feeling almost split in two.
“Giles, do that again!” she cried, bracing her hands on his chest, sitting up and feeling him move deeper inside her as she did so. Obediently, he thrust up again, impossibly hard, and she felt her body contract around him. She threw her head back, crying out wordless noises, and rocked in time to meet his next thrust. His fingers dug into her skin, pulling her harder against him, rocking them back and forth, as she ground into him from above. She felt her orgasm rise up like a tide, cresting at every thrust.
He was shocked at her beauty. The moaning, panting woman above him was alive with need, hands clenching on his chest, eyes boring into his until another thrust bent her head back again. She felt like melted steel in his arms, pliable and burning. He wanted to go on forever, endlessly moving beneath her, watching as her face distorted with passion, as she began to chant his name. He arched again and felt her juices run between them, her pussy clenching around his cock as she came for him.
Watching her shudder above him, her body still moving, her mouth open in a soundless scream, his own orgasm tore through him like quicksilver. He drove into her once more, crying out as he came, pulling her down in a fierce kiss as his body pumped into hers.
They lay together, panting.
When Buffy regained the power of speech, she reached out to stroke the check of her Watcher. “Giles, that was . . . everything.”
A tired but joyful smile crossed his face as he rolled onto his side to face her. “Trust me, love,” he began earnestly, “that was amazing, but there’s so much more . . .” He was interrupted by a yawn.
She laughed and pulled him so his head was pillowed on her breasts. “Well, mister ‘so much more,’ if that happens to include a blanket, I’m not gonna protest. I hope it doesn’t hurt your feelings, but I don’t think I’m up for anything more strenuous than getting under the covers tonight.”
He laughed and pulled her closer, snuggling against her body, and then grabbed the duvet and threw it over them both. “You know I can’t argue with you, particularly when you’re right. However, in the morning . . . “
Buffy grinned through a yawn of her own, “Giles, morning is a completely different kettle of fish.”
“Indeed.”
Buffy put her cheek against the top of his head and closed her eyes. “G’night, Giles.”
“Sweet dreams, Buffy, my dear one.”
She smiled into his hair. “Sweet dreams, Giles.”
The end
Set during 'Harsh Light of Day.' Some how Giles learns of Parker's reputation (maybe Willow or Oz hears something and mentions it to him). Giles finds Buffy before she kisses Parker. Giles kisses her in front of Parker after telling her that he would explain later.
Optional: Buffy saying something like 'not really old and definitely not gross.'
Where it goes from there is up to you. This is just a plot bunny that I don't have time to feed myself.