Title: A Werewolf in London 2/2
Author: Kim
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Joss, ME, Fox etc. Feedback: Constructive criticism craved.
Feedback: Constructive criticism craved.
The next morning, Oz entered the kitchen to find Giles making toast.
“I’m not much of a breakfast person, but I could make you something else if you’d like.”
“Toast is great,” Oz said, trying to decide if he’d ever seen Giles looking so relaxed. Well-worn jeans, a knitted cream sweater, and casual black shoes certainly lent an air of comfort, but it was the open smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes that spoke volumes of his happiness. Even with the grey sprinkled in his casually tousled hair, Giles looked years younger than he had in Sunnydale.
Oz, for his part, felt refreshed after a dreamless night’s sleep. Not knowing exactly where they were going, he’d worn a long-sleeved black t-shirt paired with brown cargos. His favorite, or actually only, pair of shoes, his beloved Doc Martens, were comfortable no matter how much walking he did.
After toast and tea, they left the flat and spent the day poking through some of London’s famous underground. They browsed for albums and continued their conversation about music; arguing over the influence of various artists and whether Eric Clapton deserved canonization. As the day progressed, Oz realized he and Giles had more in common than he would have believed possible.
Evening found them on the subway. Emboldened by the wolf, Oz decided first things first. “So,” he asked, hoping to sound casual, “seems like you have a great life. There a girlfriend in the package too?”
Giles laughed shortly. “No, no girlfriend. Not anyone, actually. Rebuilding the Council has kept me on the go for the last two years, and it doesn’t leave much time for socializing. Plus, with Buffy and the others popping in at a moment’s notice and staying for weeks at a time, it makes dating somewhat difficult.”
His tone was casual, but the wolf picked up on the body language that screamed tension. Trying to detect pheromones on the air, Oz was thwarted by the crowd of people about them.
“Really,” Giles continued, his casual tone at odds with the tension in his body, “it’s only recently that I realized I miss being with someone.”
“Ah,” was Oz’s only reply as they exited the subway and went in search of a pub for dinner.
When they had been seated and ordered pints, Oz asked another question that had been on his mind since the night before. “Is Willow still with Tara?”
A flicker of disappointment flashed across Giles’ face so quickly Oz wasn’t sure he saw it. “I forgot you don’t know anything that happened after you left,” he sighed. “The answer, in a nutshell, is no. Do you want to hear the whole story?”
Curiosity piqued, Oz nodded. Expecting Giles to begin with Willow, he was surprised when Giles said, “It all started when the monks sent Dawn to Buffy.”
“Wait a minute. Dawn is Buffy’s sister. What do monks have to do with it?”
Giles explained Dawn’s creation and the fight against Glory. When Giles talked of Buffy’s sacrifice, Oz felt tears prick his eyes, even though he knew Buffy was alive. The story continued with Giles returning to England, Buffy’s resurrection, and Willow’s descent into magical addiction. When Giles spoke of Tara’s death, his own eyes filled with tears. Willow’s subsequent attempt to destroy the world surprised Oz a little. Then Giles explained his return to Sunnydale, how he tried to stop Willow, and Xander’s ultimate success. “Really, a lot of it was my fault,” he finished, head down as he traced designs in the condensation left by the beer on the table. “If I hadn’t gone back to England, I would have been there to see what Willow was going through and to help her stop.”
The pain in his voice was such a contrast to the happy man that he had been earlier in the day that Oz felt moved to reach out. Oz had not been a tactile person, but wolves are pack animals, and touch is an important part of their social interaction. In accepting his wolf, Oz had learned to accept the need to touch as well. He put his hand on top of Giles’. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. Willow was an adult. They were all adults who made choices. It wasn’t your job to make those choices for them.” It was a longer speech than he liked to make, but Oz felt it needed to be said.
“Thank you,” Giles said. “I really thought I was over that self-recrimination phase, but obviously there’s a little bit of it left.”
Oz smiled, “Well, that’s what friends are for, to stop you from beating yourself up too badly.” He realized his hand was still on Giles’ and enjoyed the heat between the two of them for a moment. Withdrawing slowly, he continued, “I am sorry for Willow. Tara seemed like a very nice girl,” he grinned to show his next words were joking, “when I wasn’t trying to kill her.”
Giles nodded. “She was a very lovely girl. Willow dated another Slayer for a while - Kennedy. But, they broke up, and now she is quite single, I believe.”
Oz nodded noncommittally. Willow would always hold a special place in his heart, but he wasn’t the same boy who had loved her, and hadn’t been for a long time.
“What about you?” Giles asked, changing the conversation. “Have you met anyone special in your travels?”
Oz couldn’t have asked for a better opening. “A couple of people,” Oz admitted. “I found a pack in Nepal, and hung out with a girl there for a while. But, she didn’t have the same sense of wanderlust, so it ended. Then there was Dan.” He threw the name out casually, but his senses were all straining to determine Giles’ reaction.
“Really?” was all Giles said out loud, but his body language announced his curiosity, interest, and acceptance to the hunter who sat before him.
“Yeah, we met in Greece. He was assigned there on business.” Oz shrugged. “It was pretty much about mutual lust and not a lot else. Once we got past that, we didn’t have a lot in common. But,” he grinned, “can’t help who you’re attracted to.”
“No,” Giles smiled back, “you can’t.”
After they finished dinner, they headed back to Giles’ flat. “How long are you planning on staying in London?” Giles asked. He hastened to add, “Because you’re welcome to stay as long as you would like. You’re even welcome to look through the Council archives if you’re still searching for information on wolves.”
“That’d be cool. I bet the Council has some books I haven’t been able to get a hold of.” Oz shot Giles a quick glance. “If you’re sure it won’t be any trouble.”
“I’d enjoy it immensely if you stayed,” Giles said as they entered the flat. “It’s been too long since I’ve had someone to argue with who thinks that Jimmy Page is overrated.”
The next several weeks passed quickly. Oz explored London and also took Giles up on his offer to explore the Council’s archives. He could spend a year reading without exhausting everything they had compiled on werewolves. At night, he and Giles usually stayed in and cooked, although a few nights they went out to pubs to play darts. They never lacked for conversation. If Giles was surprised at the books Oz had read, he didn’t say so; instead, he was thrilled to have someone to debate theory with. Oz, for his part, had no idea that Giles could play darts, or that he was such a hustler when it came to coaxing people to play for money.
One night they went to a club to hear a new band play. Both drank quite a few pints during the show, and by the end were feeling no pain. On the way home, they both agreed that the guitar player was superb, but argued over whether the lyrics really had meaning.
As Giles unlocked the door to the flat, Oz’s body was thrumming from the beer, the music, and Giles. It had been a long time since he had been this attracted to anyone, but the fact that it was Giles made him cautious about rushing where he wasn’t wanted.
“I had a good time tonight,” he said, stalking Giles as he moved through the apartment in his pre-bed ritual.
“Me too.” Giles agreed. “Haven’t had that much fun in ages,” he called out, surprised, when he turned from getting a drink of water to find Oz right behind him.
Standing close, Oz could feel the heat radiating off Giles. This close, he could smell the individual scents that combined into Giles’ unique scent: beer, smoke, fading tea, the sharp undercurrent of spice, and a hint of arousal. His wolf wanted to rub up against it, coat himself in it, while he was more interested in seeing whether Giles’ lips were as soft as they looked. They stood, silently, for several moments, while Oz studied Giles carefully. Finally, Giles’ pupils dilated, and he leaned imperceptibly forward. Satisfied, Oz licked his lips and watched Giles’ eyes track the movement. Stepping closer, he smiled. “Night, Giles.” And he turned and walked away. The wolf knew there was more than one way to hunt.
The next morning, Oz was looking through the dresser drawers for a t-shirt, when he heard the phone ring. After a few more minutes of looking, he still couldn’t find it. Wandering out into the living room, shirtless, he heard Giles say, “See you then. Goodbye.”
“Hey,” Oz called. “Have you seen my Stones t-shirt? It might have gotten mixed up in your laundry.” When Giles didn’t reply, and instead kept holding the phone receiver, Oz said his name.
Finally, Giles looked up and noticed Oz. His eyes roved over the bare torso before him, before meeting Oz’s eyes. Giles inarticulately asked, “What?”
“I asked if you’d seen my Stones t-shirt. You okay? Who was on the phone?”
Giles visibly composed himself, “That was Willow,” he paused expectantly. When Oz did nothing, he continued. “She needs to do some research, and she’s coming here.”
“So, when is she coming?”
“In about ten minutes.” Giles looked unhappy.
Oz blinked, his only indication of surprise. “She called from the airport?”
“No, she’s going to teleport. It’s somewhat of an emergency from what I gather.”
“You don’t seem happy that she’s coming.”
“No,” Giles protested feebly. “I’m thrilled she’s coming. I’m sure you can’t wait to see her.”
Then, Oz understood. Perhaps his teasing last night hadn’t been a good idea. Giles assumed, for some reason, that Oz would see Willow and old sparks would be rekindled. “Damn, this is bad timing,” he muttered.
Still inarticulate, Giles again asked, “What?”
Ten minutes wasn’t very long, Oz considered. He’d have to hurry. He stepped closer to Giles, and when Giles didn’t move back, he figured it was a good sign. “I’ll be happy to see Willow,” he said carefully.
Giles lowered his eyes and mumbled, “Of course you will.”
“Because she’s my friend,” Oz continued. “Not for any other reason. But, there’s something I’ve got to do before she gets here.”
“What?” Giles asked for the third time in as many minutes.
“This,” Oz said reaching up to pull Giles’ head down while rising up to meet him. Giles’ lips were exactly as soft as he had imagined. For a minute, Giles didn’t kiss him back, and Oz was afraid he’d read every single signal wrong. Finally, though, Giles came out of his shock and began to return the kiss. Soft hesitancy gave way to eager exploration as Oz sank his hands into Giles’ hair. When Giles opened his mouth and their tongues met, Oz wanted to howl in triumph. The feeling of Giles’ hands resting on the bare skin of his back finally brought him back to reality, and he broke off the kiss. Both breathing heavily, they stared at each other.
“I wanted,” Oz started, and had to clear his throat. “I wanted to get that out on the table. Before Willow got here.”
“I see,” Giles said, licking his lips, sending a surge of arousal through Oz.
“But,” Oz checked the clock on the wall, “She’ll probably be here any minute, so we’ll have to finish that discussion after she leaves.”
“Indeed,” Giles said, moving towards him with a grace that made Oz realize he wasn’t the only hunter in the room. As he bent his head towards Oz, he let a hand linger on Oz’s chest.
“You win,” Oz admitted. “Maybe one more kiss before she gets here.”
Fin