Title: The Real Loneliness 2/12
Author: K.V. Wylie
Pairing: Giles/Cordelia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to Controlled Descent
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

Giles put down their suitcases and looked slowly around.  Cordelia gave the living room a quick scrutiny before going to the patio doors and gazing out at the beach.

"I can hear the water even through the glass," she murmured, then glanced back at him.  "Rupert?"

"It's nice."

She laughed at him.  "You look transplanted."

With a shrug, he said, "I'll get the groceries from the car."

Cordelia moved the suitcases into the bedroom and returned as he was setting bags on the kitchen counter.  "The bathroom's off the bedroom," she said.  "There's a big four-poster bed and a Jacuzzi."

"Why would one need a Jacuzzi when there is an ocean outside the door?"

She leaned across the counter and winked at him.  "In case one wishes to engage in a little private activity."

"I thought the beach was private."

"Mr. Giles!  What kind of thoughts are *you* entertaining?"

He didn't answer as he continued putting the food away.  After he folded the bags, she added, "Tell you what, if you're a good boy, I might be persuaded to do a little topless sunbathing."

"I trust not.  You'll get a nasty burn."

Cordelia decided to give him one more try before she exploded.  "That should have made you happy.  How many beautiful women offer to run around half-nude in front of you?"

"Do you want a weekly count or just a daily one?"

"God, Rupert, what's wrong with you?  You've been in a snit all day."

"It might have something to do with your waking me up at four-thirty a.m. to tell me we were leaving."

"I wanted to get an early start.  I told you to get some sleep in the back seat."

"Do you think anyone could sleep with the way you drive?"

Enunciating each word distinctly, she said, "There is nothing wrong with my driving."

Giles threw up his hands as he paced past her.  "All right.  Fine."

"*Not* fine!"

"Cordelia, I'm not in the mood to argue with you."

"Yes, you are.  You've been itching for a fight since you came out of that hellmouth.  When you've been awake that is."  She looked up to find him regarding her with a neutral expression.

"Then why are you still around?"

That shook her.  After a pause, Cordelia asked quietly, "That's nasty.  If you want to end this relationship, stop playing games.  Just tell me."

His shoulders slumped.  "I'm sorry."

"I didn't hear your decision," she retorted.

In an achingly quiet voice, Giles said, "Cordelia, I'm not the one who likes playing games.  You are."

She grabbed her purse.  "I'm going for a walk.  And while I'm gone, you can piss on yourself for a while."

The sun was high up in a cloudy sky and Cordelia could hear, faintly, the highway.  As she walked, the sounds of traffic faded into the rhythmic wash of the tide.

She took off her sandals but the sand was too hot, and she ended up on the wet shoreline among the shifting kelp and serrated crayfish trails.  A bubbling rush of water enclosed her ankles and she paused as strands of cool seaweed brushed her skin.

This was what she'd wanted Giles to do, to stand for a moment in the quiet sunshine.  Sunnydale didn't suit him.  She'd always known that, but it had been worse since he'd been fired by that Council in England.  That had been a blow he hadn't acknowledged, not to her, and probably not to himself.  It affected him more than even Buffy knew, and Buffy knew the circumstances the best.

Then there'd been this other thing, offering his life, descending into a demon state in order to withstand the intensity of the hellmouth, all for his precious Buffy who, Cordelia suspected, hadn't yet thanked him.  Nor was Buffy with him, night after night when he slept like someone on the edge of death, or day after day as he moved with the small steps of the utterly exhausted.

However, Cordelia could only take so much herself.  If he wanted to live in a big pit of despair, she was ready to let him do so.  And if he wanted her out of his life, he could do the breaking up.  The dumpee took the humiliation but it would, Cordelia suspected, be the easier way this time.  Buffy's one saving grace was that she didn't kick someone who was down.

She walked to the public beach.  Several piers extended over the water to where sailboards and outboards docked.  By the first pier was a small sandcastle, half-washed away, and Cordelia gazed down at it for a few minutes, lost in thought, before shaking herself.  Taking a deep breath, she turned and retraced her path.

She returned to the cabin to find the door open and the smell of something cooking in the afternoon breeze.  She paused inside the living room and asked, "What is that?"

Giles came a few steps out of the kitchen.  "Lentil and tomato soup."

"For how many?"

"Two," he said.  "I thought we could take it onto the patio.  I also unpacked…..for both of us."

She folded her arms over her chest and eyed him.  "So you want me to stick around?"

"Yes," he said softly.  "Very much so.  I've been in a rotten mood, Cordelia, and your efforts to…..cheer me up are frustrating."

"Tell me about it."

He went to her and pulled her arms out of their crossed position.  "I didn't want to be cheered up.  I didn't want to share this mood with you either, but, well, you've been with me, so it's being shared."

"I don't care to share it anymore, Rupert.  We have a week here.  You've got to make an effort to be less grouchy."

"I think staying grouchy might be difficult, considering some of those items I found in your suitcase."

She gave him a swat.  "I wanted to surprise you."

"I haven't seen you in them yet, so there's some surprise left."

She sighed but it was cut off when he kissed her.  "That was nice," Cordelia murmured, as she snuggled into his arms.  "But we're eating first.  I'm starving."

As they settled at the patio table, Giles said, "There's a radio in the bedroom.  I heard that it's eighty-four degrees and it's supposed to rain later.  Anaheim is hosting New England at seven-thirty this evening, and tomorrow is the start of the Annual Long Beach Lesbian and Gay Pride Celebration."

Cordelia found herself smiling.  "Thank God I brought a CD player."

"We could go and watch their parade.  I went to one in London once and it was, uh, festive."

"That's your idea of a date?"

"Yes."

She eyed him.  "What were you doing at a gay pride parade in London?"

"It's a long story."

"We have a week."

"And boring."

"Boring yet festive?"

Giles moved her bowl towards her.  "I thought you were hungry."

"I am, but," she looked down at her lunch.  "How many lentils did you put in here anyway?"

"I happen to like lentils."

"No guff."

Giles spooned out some of her legumes and put them in his bowl.  "We could take turns cooking," he suggested.

"I do chips and dip only."

"You can't operate a can opener?"

"Rupert, if you're thinking of starting a fight over this, I can tell you right now what particular thing I'll use it on."

"That would be a threat if I believed you actually knew how a can opener worked."

Cordelia met his eyes.  "Bickering is foreplay to you, isn't it?"

He didn't answer and the rest of the meal continued in quiet.  Silence with him didn't bother her, however, especially one that came after she'd had the final word.

She would have picked up the conversation after the meal, but, by the time they took the dishes into the kitchen, she could see he was getting tired.

"Come on, Rupert," she said, taking his hand.  "You can do the dishes later."

"*We*," he emphasized, with a faint smile.

"Whatever."  Cordelia shut the patio door on the way, but paused by the window seat facing the beach.  "There's a telescope," she said.  "That seems kinky."

"For whale watching."

She scowled.  "That better be all you use it for."

"I haven't used it at all, but if you read the little placard beside, you'll see that it's fixed at a point out in the water."

A kiss cut him off.  "Let's go do some boy-girl stuff," she said, a little weary of his mood.  She began to wonder why she was bothering.  Then he kissed her back and she remembered.

They went into the bedroom and undressed, dropping their clothing to the floor and leaving them there.  Then they got under the covers and she wiggled to a position on top of him, enjoying the rub of his skin under hers as his hands caressed her breasts with familiar strokes.  She glanced into his eyes as he began to erect under her, watching the way their green hue darkened as he became aroused.

Giles caught the expression on her face and looked back in consternation.  "What is it?" he asked, unsure.

"Nothing."  She kissed him once more, nipping his bottom lip, before getting on her hands and knees and moving her mouth to his chest and the trail of hair that led down his abdomen.

He watched her with a dusky still gaze, his hands coming down on top of hers.  But when she touched the tip of his cock with her tongue, he pulled in a sharp breath.

"Ticklish?"

"Not exactly," he replied.

"It's nice to know I have the upper hand," she said as she freed one and lightly touched his shaft.

"That's either the worst joke possible, or not much of a joke at all."  But his tone was hoarse.

"Ssh, Rupert."

The soft skin pulsed under her palm as his erection arched upwards.  "Cor….."

"Close your mouth."

She moved the foreskin down until she could suck on the ridge, and he moaned, surprising her.  He was not usually vocal in bed.  She could generally judge how far along he was by how mute he became.

He moaned again when she sucked the head of his penis into her mouth and stroked her tongue along the underside.  His sounds unexpectedly delighted her and, when his hand left hers to grasp at a fold of the bed sheet, she felt exhilarated.

Closing her eyes, she lost herself in the sensation of his cock in her mouth, the uneven throbbing under the stiffness and the saline fluid weeping from the tip.  She drew at him carefully, her hand around the base and pushing down into the hair at his groin.

When his legs began to tremble between hers, she paused and looked up.  "Rupert?" she teased, darting her tongue along the underside of his organ.

"…..Gods…..Cor….." he managed, thrusting frantically at her lips, his eyes so dark they were black.

She relented and sucked him back in swiftly.  He jerked and, with a gasp, ejaculated in her mouth, several hard spasms that knocked down her throat before she had a chance to swallow.  She took what she could until he slowed under her, then lifted off and moved back up the bed.

"Kind of salty," she said, kissing him and giving him some of it back.  But he looked drowsy and had to end the kiss quickly because he needed to catch his breath.

"Go to sleep, Rupert," she whispered, burrowing between his arm and his side.

Giles looked down at her uncertainly.  "But, honey, you didn't---"

"You don't have anything to do for a week except be with me.  We have time."  She closed her eyes as she nestled into her spot against him.

After a minute, she realized he was still up on one elbow.  "Now what's wrong?" she asked.  "That should have put you out like a light."

"I don't understand you," he murmured.

"It's not that complicated.  The world revolves around me except for just now when it revolved around you briefly."

She finally felt him settle down.  "Cor?"

"What now?"

"Nothing."

Cordelia smiled and said, "You're welcome.  Go to sleep, Rupert."

---

Xander was almost flat against the front window of a store.  "What the hell is this?"

Buffy lifted up her sunglasses and read the large swinging banner approaching them.  "Welcome to the Annual Long Beach Lesbian and Gay Pride Celebration.  Come out, Sisters and Brothers."  She dropped her sunglasses back on her nose, eased her way through the crowd of people that had appeared between her and Xander during the brief moment her back had been turned, and asked, "Do you want me to take a picture of you under their sign?"

At the terrified look he gave her, Buffy said, "Lighten up.  It's like Mardi Gras, only with more girls.  And you did say you wanted to look at girls."

Willow glanced at the passing streams of people.  "I don't think all of those girls are, um, girls."

A shining white Cadillac blaring reggae music was alongside them now, a Marilyn Monroe imitator in the back and several others in evening gowns strolling alongside.  One gave Willow a happy wave and the latter waved back, shyly, before turning around.

"They seem friendly enough."

"Willow!" Buffy teased.

"I mean, in a friendly way," Willow tried, flustered.

"Hey, there'll probably be parties on the beach, right?" Buffy said.

"There always are.  Oh, look, there's going to be a barbecue," Willow said, her eye catching a sign in a window.  "And a dance."

The three of them exchanged a quick look, and Willow added, "Well, maybe not the dance."

As they shuffled through the loud and brightly-dressed mob, Buffy asked, "How far away is the house?"

"Up three blocks and down a road.  The buses don't go there, but it's not that far.  It's by that ice cream place."

Buffy craned her head up and nodded as she got her bearings.  "This is loud," she said, shouting over the noise.

"That's what Long Beach is," Willow told her.  "Party town."

They were almost clear of the main street when Willow stopped and squealed, "Oh, I'd forgotten about this place.  We have to go here!"

Somewhat worriedly, Buffy rushed back but found Willow was only looking at a poster on the back of a bench.  "Long Beach Aquarium?" she asked.

"It's amazing!" Willow said.  "There's an underground part around the dolphins and sharks, and I heard they now have a coffee house where you can do eel-mail."

Buffy felt herself grin, caught by Willow's exuberance.  "Eel-mail."

"When I was little, and my parents used to do stuff together, we'd come here every summer.  Xander too," Willow said, exchanging a smile with him.  "My parents would rent a cabin and we always went to the aquarium."

"Will's dad used to take me fishing," Xander said.  "At the end of that long fishing pier."

"Oh, that's right!" Willow cried.  "And remember once, you fell off and started screaming that Jaws was going to eat you?"  She turned to Buffy.  "Xander was hysterical.  He kept saying he could see a fin but it was just a rock."

Buffy actually laughed as Xander added, "And Will sang that Jaws music until her mother threatened to make her stand in a corner."

"You were funny," Willow said.  "And then there was that time dad made a fire and you ate all those roasted marshmallows."  She glanced at Buffy.  "Was he *ever* sick."

"It sounds like this place really is a party town," Buffy said wistfully.

Willow looked at her thoughtfully.  "Now that you're here, the three of us can do things that we'll laugh over, you know, later."

"As long as they don't involve marshmallows," Xander muttered.  "I haven't eaten one since."

The girls giggled at him as they started down the road.

---

Cordelia raised her legs around Giles' hips as he thrust quietly in her, the hair behind his ear tickling her nose as he kissed her neck.  They had made love enough to find a tempo that suited them and an arrangement of limbs that was almost a habit.  He placed his left knee a little higher than his right, which pushed his pubic bone against her just…..she sucked in her breath…..just right.  His left arm hugged her more tightly as a consequence, which squeezed her right side.  But her other hand was free and she stroked him from shoulder to buttock, causing him to quiver.

His mouth came over her cheek to hers and she raised up to meet it with a whimper.  He felt her thighs clench him and he pushed hard against her mound until she sobbed and came to a climax.

After a bit, she opened her eyes to find him gazing down at her, a mixture of enjoyment and satisfaction on his face.  Cordelia kissed his nose and whispered, "Don't get your male ego all puffed up because you can do this to me."

"As always, a lovely phrase of endearment follows," Giles replied.

She rubbed her face along his unshaven cheek.  "Keep going, Rupert."

But it was said softly, in that yielding tone he heard during their jaunts in bed.  He sent a silent thanks to his deity that she only used it at these times.  It was a voice that went right through him.

He resumed moving in and out of her warm clasping sex and was feeling the beginning prickle of his own crisis when she said, "It's late."

"What is?" he asked in a haze.

"You know."

The conversation slowly penetrated.  He stopped moving and looked at her.  "Pardon?"

"My period.  It's late."

He stared at her, unsure if she were teasing or not.  Cordelia looked back at him with a twinge of exasperation.

"Good Lord!  You couldn't have told me this earlier or," he took a breath.  "Or a few minutes from now?"

"A few minutes.  *Please*," she retorted.  "At least ten, I should think, if you want to make it nice for me too."

Giles pulled out, pulled away right to the edge of the bed.  "I thought you were taking the pill."

She shrugged.  "Sometimes I forgot.  I wasn't paying attention.  It's not like I had to pay attention much before."

Underneath the shrug, she was uncertain.  He saw it flash over her face the moment she found she was no longer in physical contact with him.  Her quick look at the space of bed between them confirmed it.

He shoved his frustration down, barely, and thought it through.  "You don't want me coming in you," he said suddenly.

"I thought that's what we were aiming for, a moment ago," she said, defiantly.

"You don't know for sure if you are."

"Rupert!"

"You're frightened."

"For Godssakes!'

But he touched her, taking her chin and turning her back to face him.  "You can't admit this to me, Cordelia?  What we've done, what we are to each other, and you still can't tell me?"

"*What* are we?" she snapped.

"How can you ask that?"  He gathered her back to him, eliminating the space.

"Are you angry?" she asked against his chest.

"At myself."

"Yeah, I'm angry at you too, Rupert."

"I wish you'd trust me.  You can, you know."

"Yeah, I can trust you.  I can trust you to be a self-sacrificing martyr like you are with Buffy."

"You'd never let me get away with that."  He felt her relax as he hugged her tightly.

When the silence stretched on too long, she asked, "So, what do we do?"

NEXT