Title: Controlled Descent 3/7
Author: K.V. Wylie
Pairing: Giles/Cordelia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to Popsicles Cuddles and Couches
Disclaimer: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS, has not been given. Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. This is purely for fun, and no copyright infringement is intended

After Buffy left, Giles waited for the other one and, sure enough, she came, entering the library almost as Buffy was leaving it.

Cordelia pulled his clasped hands apart and off his legs and took their place, resting her head on his neck.  He held her in return, feeling the softness of her arms under his and the featherweight warmth in his lap.

They were silent for some moments.  Then, in a harsh bare voice, he said, "I'm sorry."

"Why?  Because Buffy comes first?  I always knew that.  Half a chance and there you go offering your life for her."

But it didn't sound sarcastic.  Wondering about that, Giles peered down at her.  "I'm not…..leaping at the opportunity.  The odds are very much against us."

"If you've been dealing with this issue since Monday, why didn't you tell me?  Why didn't you give me some clue?  My God, Rupert, you went from let's-have-dinner to by-the-way-I'm-sacrificing-myself-tonight."

"I suppose it does sound like a hasty decision--"

"No.  From the first time you saw Buffy, you were prepared to do this.  She's all you think about."  She looked up at him.  "You agreed to that claiming thing way too quickly.  You don't really think she can come in after you, do you?"

He shook his head.

"Then how can you do it?" she asked, dumbfounded.

Giles closed his eyes, letting his face rest on her forehead.  "Because there are worse things.  I'm not a brave man and if I think too much about this, I won't be able to do it.  But I know what's coming and I don't want it to reach Buffy or Willow…..or you."  He kissed her.  "I should have told you what was happening.  I'm sorry."

"If you had told me, I probably would have knocked you over the head with something and dragged you away," Cordelia told him, leaning into him more tightly, feeling the movement of his breathing and the anxious thud of his heart.  The library, dimmed into shadows, already felt cold to her and the thought of not seeing him in here scared her.  Though an outsider in the group most of the time, this room had been as much a safe place to her as to the others, a fort in the mire and the Watcher the bastion.

She'd seduced that bastion on a rather abrupt whim.  Cordelia had never lied to herself about how much she enjoyed irritating Buffy.  Giles was certainly the apex when it came to vexing that blonde mite.  But the asexual restrained Watcher was in actuality neither, that façade something he and Buffy had unconsciously mutually agreed upon.  Take him away from the Slayer and he was excitable and masculine, the safe place he created in the library a thin shadow to the refuge within his arms.  Turned out he was very lonely too and that was something she understood well.  Discovery obliterated the whim-intent, the Buffy-factor fell meaningless to the side, and Cordelia was left with the realization of how sterile her pre-bastion-seducing life had been.

And would be so again.  In fact, it would be worse.

His heart skipped several beats, then thumped his chest wall hard.  It came to her that he was afraid.  Shoved under the sheer will of the man lay his own terror.  But he had faced devils and had followed indescribable things into the darkest places, and she knew he would do this.  He would think of Buffy and willingly step into the abyss.

She put her arms around him, drawing his head down and giving him a sheltered place even if it was only an illusion flashing in the span of a second, yet it was a comfort which he took and rested in, his head on her neck.

"You damn bastard," she muttered.  "I don't suppose you could be wrong."

And she tightened her hold on him for it hadn't been a question at all.

----

The group went by separate cars to the sunken church by the beach.  Buffy had returned here just once since Michael had been sucked by an old one down into a gaseous reeking pocket of the hellmouth, and this was to retrieve Giles after he went to check the site but took too long.  She'd found him by the only part of the church that remained, a bit of gray steeple protruding at an angle from the remains of an ancient cemetery.  Whatever his thoughts were upon seeing the steeple, she didn't know though he'd offered to tell her.  "Ask me," he'd said, but she chose retreat, made a joke about his car and her missed algebra class, and quickly tugged him away.  Since then she'd breathed avoidance.

Under that steeple was stinging failure, her second lost Watcher, Michael Khieri, a man with aquamarine eyes, a joyous trust in God, and a committed belief in her.  Buffy eyed the steeple, hating it, furious that the entire thing couldn't have done gone down into the pit.  The urge to splinter the thing into fragments was almost overwhelming, would have been if Angel hadn't come up behind her and stilled her twitching with a touch.  From the side she saw Wesley eye them nervously, those hands in his pockets no doubt fumbling for crosses.

Giles and Cordelia arrived last and, if they looked a little disheveled, no one mentioned it.  Giles gave Cordelia his glasses and walked the perimeter of the ruptured earth, a muted intent look on his face.  Cordelia stalked to a position in front of Wesley and snapped, "Screw up and I'll make you wish *you'd* gone down instead."

"Sssh," Giles said, still circling the steeple.  Buffy watched him, a sharp cold ball in her throat.  Everything quieted, her breathing stopped, and even Wesley seemed to have given up trying to find his precious crosses.  All she could hear were Giles' steady steps and the distant splash of waves.

Giles finally stilled at a spot some distance from the steeple.

"Is that the place?" Wesley asked in a hushed awed tone.

Giles shrugged.  "I can't seem to find a weak area."

"Then we can't do this.  Let's go," Buffy said but Angel's hold tightened on her, a signal to wait.

Giles walked around the steeple again and stopped at the same spot.  "This is the best I can find.  I suppose I should be grateful it's not so accessible."  He bent down and touched the earth.

"Rupert," Angel said.

"Please don't give me any more description at this point," Giles said.

"I was only going to say, the pain is not in becoming a demon.  It's in choosing not to."

Giles glanced up sharply, then stood and came over to him.  "I have something for you."

It was a piece of paper.  Angel took it curiously.

"Willow can do the spell for you," Giles told him.  He gave Buffy a long look before returning to the place he'd decided upon.  To Wesley, he said, "Let's do this."

Cordelia turned away, staring blindly into the dark trees that surrounded them.  Wesley opened a book and began reading dusty torrentially-vowelled words, but whether he spoke prayers or curses, Buffy couldn't tell.  His high-strung voice grated on her ears or maybe it was the fact that they were here at all that got to her.  She abruptly pulled free of Angel and strode around the steeple towards Giles.

He didn't acknowledge her, seemingly intent on his little chosen patch of ground.  She wanted to grab him, shake him hard, haul him back to his car.  The only thing that stopped her was the hope that maybe nothing would happen.  Certainly nothing seemed to be.  Wesley read on and not even a breeze picked up to answer him.

She flew past Giles, her turbulent loop taking her towards Angel who stepped out of her path.  She passed Cordelia whose eyes were closed and who looked to be holding her breath, and again past Wesley who paused to wipe his forehead with his handkerchief when he turned a page.  Buffy cleared them, hurdled past the point of the steeple, and ran smack into…..nothing.

Nothing she could see anyway.

Giles was so close she could reach out and touch him.  Only she couldn't.  She raised her arm and connected with something, something icy and solid and completely unyielding.  Something she couldn't see now stood between her and Giles.

"Giles!" she yelled.

He bent towards the ground, extending a hand tentatively.  Something moved under the dirt.

She threw all her weight against the whatever it was.  The cold mass returned the gesture with a unpleasant burst of pain that snaked down her arms and crawled around her back.  Buffy jumped away and rubbed her arms.

"*GILES*!"

But he was still bending, reaching forward.  The thing in the dirt came up, a ludicrous piece of licorice extending through the earth.  They touched and it crept around his wrist, but then it stilled, seemingly content.  Giles closed his eyes.

"*NO!*" Buffy screamed.

The ground fractured.  A gaping fissure blew apart, rocking the earth so violently that Buffy crashed down, landing hard on her side.  Giles turned to her, opening his eyes briefly, but the look on his face was not one of concern.

It was one of hatred.  The green eyes were gone and it was a sickly yellow stare that met hers, alien and vile.

The thing that held his wrist dragged him into the hole, taking him head-first in one slow single draw.  The last Buffy saw were his legs.  The earth closed over him and calmed.

The barrier disappeared too.  Buffy scrambled forward.  The freshly upturned dirt was warm but ungiving, innocently appearing as though nothing more had happened to it than a gardener's hoe.

Buffy dug into the soil, frantically clawing around stones and clumps of clay, until Angel took her arms and pulled her back.

"Oh God no….." she mumbled softly and the sound of someone sobbing echoed her words back to her.  She looked past Angel, saw Wesley, silent now, half turned in an unsure gesture towards Cordelia.  She was the one crying.

"How long will it take?" Buffy demanded.

Angel frowned.  "How long will what take?"

"Locking the deadbolt.  How long will it take him?"

"Buffy, time moves differently there.  He may have thrown the lock already or it may not happen for a hundred years."

"Well *that's* really helpful!"

"We should return to the library," Wesley said, though it was more to Cordelia.  "Mr. Giles left me the means to check the state of the hellmouth."

"I'm waiting here," Buffy said.

"As your Watcher," he started but the expression on her face stopped him.

"Ah, very well," he said.  He glanced at Cordelia.  "Miss Chase?"

She walked away without answering.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Angel said as he started off in her trail.

"Buffy?" Wesley asked.

"I'm waiting here," she stated, leaning against a tree as she tucked her legs under her.

"This is not a safe place," Wesley said.

"Funny, I kinda got that impression already," she retorted.  He sighed and left her alone in the shadow of the steeple.  His footsteps died off but the silence broke when a wind picked up, creaking the tree tops above her.  The swaying vibrated down the trunk at her back.  She touched her cheek to the cool rough bark and closed her eyes.

She woke later to find Angel sitting on the ground in front of her, a piece of paper across his knee.

"What time is it?" she asked as she rubbed feeling back into her legs.

"A little past five," he replied.

"And Cordelia?"

"Bound and determined to drive herself home.  She told me she wanted to be alone."

"Did you know she and Giles have been--?" Buffy started and he shrugged.

"I figured it out."  He turned his attention back to the paper.

Buffy craned her head forward.  "What is that?"

"The spell Giles gave me."

"What does it do?"

Unexpectedly, he smiled.  "Something amazing."

Buffy moved beside him but the writing was in another of those ancient languages Giles was so enamoured of.  "Why don't they ever write these things in English?" she muttered.

Angel put his arm around her, drawing her to him.  "Cordelia left me her cell phone.  I called Willow and started reading this to her."  His smile faded.  "I didn't tell her about Giles."

Buffy hugged him and gestured at the paper.  "And?"

"Willow was translating as I was reading it.  I was halfway through when she started making these sounds."  Angel paused.  "Turned out she was laughing."

"*And*?" Buffy persisted.

"You'll see when the sun rises," Angel said.

The wind swayed through the trees again.  Buffy listened to it, repressing a shiver.  She glanced over to the disturbed ground by the steeple and asked, "May I have Cordelia's phone?"

Angel pulled it out of his coat pocket and gave it to her.  She dialed the library.  Wesley answered, his voice laden with tiredness.

"Any change?" Buffy asked.

"No," he said reluctantly.  "None that I can find anyway."

"So that path is still open."

"Yes, but Mr. Giles hasn't been gone all that long, Buffy."

"It's been seven hours.  That's like, um….." she tried the calculation in her head.  "Well, if a hundred years can pass in one day."

"Twenty-nine point one six years," Wesley said.

"My God, Giles would be nearly seventy!" she exclaimed.  "He'll be too old to do that lock thing now!"

"Meaningless," Wesley said.  "He's in Rapture."

"Which I don't understand," she said.

Wesley wasn't too tired to adopt a lecturing tone.  "He has demon blood.  Rapture is the period between life and death where we descend towards death.  Humans usually descend towards the next cycle of rebirth but if they have been infected by a demon, they will descend to that.  Mr. Giles entered Rapture with the intent to remain balanced between rebirth and demon.  If he can remain suspended in Rapture, he will not age.  Aging is a particularly human thing which happens during the time we are alive."

"How long do we stay in Rapture before we move on?" Buffy asked.

"There is a lack of first-hand information, not surprisingly, though a Watcher in 700 A.D. did write of a--"

"WESLEY!"

She heard him breathe out.  "I don't know," he admitted.

"I'm going after him."

"No, Buffy.  You will wait," Wesley said.  "You will do nothing at this point."

It was the voice of a Watcher, severe and unbending.  Buffy blinked at it.  She and Wesley hadn't had their power struggle yet and she wasn't prepared to have one on a cell phone, though his retort made it a close call.

She muttered something quietly.  Cordelia's phone was, however, the most expensive on the market.  Wesley heard her quite clearly.

"Buffy, go for a patrol then, or a walk on the beach.  Perhaps you thought to bring some of your homework with you?  I heard that had been falling by the wayside," he said.  "I realize you know his old name but I forbid you to use it yet."

Buffy ended the call.  "He's become mister domination."  She met Angel's eyes.  "This would be a good way for him to get Giles out of the way, permanently."

"He's not a murderer," Angel said.

"You think we should wait?"

Angel nodded.

She checked his watch.  "You can't wait with me much longer.  The sun will soon be up."

But an odd smile crossed his face again.  "I want to go for a walk with you first."

They went down to the dark beach.  Waves swirled at the shore and a seagull called faintly.  The breeze off the water dampened their clothing.

They walked the shore until they got to a jetty that had been built alongside a line of huge rocks.  Taking off their shoes and socks, they climbed over the rocks to the end of the pier and sat there, feet in the water.

It was then Buffy noticed the sky was beginning to lighten.

"We have to go.  There are sewer gratings out by the main road."

Angel pulled her back down.  "It's ok."

She eyed him.  "What do you mean it's ok?  You're not thinking of doing something stupid, are you?  One suicidal man around me is enough right now."

"Sssh."  He kissed her forehead over one of her eyebrows, lingering there for a moment.  Then he opened the cover of Cordelia's cell phone and dialed.

"Who are you calling?"

"Willow," he said.

"Why?"  But he put a finger to her lips, stopping her.

"Willow.  Are you ready?" he asked into the phone.  He withdrew the paper Giles had given him.  "I say each line and you say it back?  Is that how it works?"

Buffy watched him curiously.  He started to read, pausing after rhythms of words.  Buffy could hear Willow's voice from the phone, repeating Angel's words.  As he got near the end of the spell, something happened.

He got warm.

Buffy stared down at his hand on hers.  With her other hand she pushed back his sleeve and touched him.

He *was* warm.  Wonderfully so.

She looked back at his eyes.  They were brighter too, happier.  She could almost say they sparkled.

Reddish-yellow glowed in the sky.  She realized she could see farther out on the water, to the buoys which marked the one mile point.

"Angel….." she warned.

He closed the phone but didn't move except for closing his eyes and turning his face towards the sunrise.

"Angel!"

But he shook his head.  "It's ok."

She waited, frantic and completely unnerved by his inertia.  The sky became so light she was ready to haul him over her shoulder and carry him into the sewer herself.  Finally she could wait no longer.

"ANGEL!”

He pulled her to him and kissed her, gently, sweetly.  When she opened her eyes again, she saw the sun had come up.

It shone early morning yellow across blue-white waves.  It streamed across his hair, creating crimson flecks in the black, and it seemed to dance on his eyelashes.  He was smiling delightedly at her.

Most importantly, he wasn't aflame.

She stroked his face with shaking fingertips.  "I never imagined you could look like this," she murmured.  "I once dreamed I saw you in the daytime but it wasn't so…..so beautiful."

"You're gold," Angel said softly, staring at her as he tried to take her all in.  "You're all gold."

Buffy couldn't pull her eyes away from him.  It hurt to blink.  "I'm so used to thinking of you in black and white," she said very softly.  She touched him everywhere, explored everything, found sparkles on his collarbone, crests of muscle across his chest, and shadows under his chin that she could make disappear.

Angel was equally enraptured.  "Your eyes," he whispered.  "Where did all this blue come from?"  He bent and kissed her glittering tears away.

Such a short time later, a boat sounded in the harbour, a call from outside.  Angel glanced away from her long enough to check his watch.  "It will soon be over," he said.  "Willow said maybe twenty minutes.  It's been nineteen."

"Nineteen," she repeated slowly.  "Where did they all go?"

He smiled at her again, his cheeks flashing in the light.  His lips touched hers, sun-warm and soft in their pressure.  Then they rose.

He gave the sky a last look, took her hand, and started towards the road.

NEXT