Title: Discovery
Series: What We Are (2)
Author: K.V. Wylie
Spoilers: Mild through 4th Season
Content: Buffy/Giles
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and WB. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Not that I want anyone to see me this way, but maybe we should go see your friend, the one that called your cell phone," Buffy said as she stumbled lopsidedly up the church staircase.

"That would be difficult," Giles said, in Buffy's voice, yet with an English enunciation.

Buffy paused near the top, holding onto the railing and looking back numbly at what should have been her, at her face and mouth that someone else was using. The only difference was the eyes. They were green - Giles' green. If she looked at the eyes and nothing else, she saw him.

"My friend lives in England," Giles added. He was also having trouble looking at his body from being outside it. He was staring in a way that Buffy would have found disconcerting…..if she'd still been in her female shape. "What's wrong, Buffy, besides the obvious?"

Buffy gestured down. "Your feet are too big. They're hard to work."

"I apologize. I didn't think you'd ever be using them."

"Sarcasm is uncalled for, Giles."

"It's completely called for."

"Then I'm going to start being *really* sarcastic about whose fault this is." Buffy noticed that he was staring at her again. "Now what?"

"It's rather, um, unsettling to be arguing with myself."

Buffy looked between them. "Yeah, I know. It's majorly wiggy."

He gave her a glare that was comfortingly Giles-like. "Slang does not need to cross my larynx."

"Get used to it, because a whole lot more is coming." She continued up the stairs, stubbing her toes on almost every step. "I think you're going to get some bruises too."

He took her arms and practically lifted her the rest of the way. At the top, he looked at his hands in awe and murmured, "Good Lord."

"Giles, if you have my strength, does that mean you're the--" She jiggled the handle of the door they'd just come through, and attempted to pull it out of the wood. It wouldn't budge. In a terribly low voice, she said, "I guess you're going out on patrol tonight."

"Buffy, we'll reverse this. Everything will be fine." He tried to hug her, but he had to reach up to do so and it was awkward.

She looked down into his green eyes and tried to ignore the blonde hair. *Her* blonde hair. "It's ok, Giles. Let's just get to your place and call your friend."

Uneasily, they moved through the church towards the doors, holding pews on their way. Buffy couldn't take the strides she was used to. They seemed to trip her up. She tried increasing the stride and her balance became more steady.

She looked behind her to see Giles encountering the same situation in reverse. After every step, he had to tug her skirt back down over her thighs.

"Take smaller steps and it won't bunch up," Buffy offered.

"Is this a skirt or a belt?" he retorted. "You need to wear more clothing." He corrected himself. "I need to wear more clothing."

At his car, they discovered another problem.

"I get to drive?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"No."

"But I have the keys and now I'm the owner of the car." She fished through the pockets in his jacket and pants before finding them.

"You've never driven my car."

With a sigh, she handed the keys over, then went to bound in in her usual way. Unaccustomed to his height, she whacked her head. "Ouch! Now I see why we have to keep taking you in for CAT scans," she said, rubbing her scalp.

"Please be careful. I don't wish to return to a concussion."

"I've always wanted to be a little taller, but not this much."

He got in and found he couldn't reach the pedals. "Damn," he said. He reached under the seat for the adjustment lever, pulled the seat forward, and smacked his breasts on the steering wheel.

Embarrassed, they both looked away at the same time.

"Let's just get to your apartment," she said finally.

They didn't say anything during the drive, nor did they look at each other. It was at the door of his place that she said, "I hope none of the gang are here. I wouldn't want to hear what Xander would say."

Fortunately, the apartment was empty. A message flashed on the answering machine. Buffy took off her jacket and shoes and hit play.

"Rupert, it's Imman. I tried your cell, but you didn't answer. I hope you're all right. Give me a call at home as I've had some success with your query about the Sacramentum."

"Which one of us should call?" Buffy asked.

After a moment, he said, "I will." Giles dialed and, after a thought, said, "Perhaps you should pick up the extension. It's on the table by my bed. Her name is Imman Asharah."

She got to it in time to hear the other end pick up.

"Hello," came a woman's voice.

"Imman. It's Rupert."

"Excuse me?" she said.

"It is me, Imman. Buffy Summers is on the extension."

"Hello," Buffy said hesitantly.

"There's been an…..interesting development since we spoke. Does this mean anything to you? Uno all' altro. Si uniscono."

There was a pause, then Buffy heard Imman laugh. "Oh dear, Rupert. Yes it does. And hello Miss Summers, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you," Buffy said.

"Rupert, I called Dr. Ravasajitar in Delhi. The Sacramentum is older than we think and it is so rarely invoked that I didn't have much information here in the abbey. Do you know it was originally in Hindi and perhaps even in another language before that? When Christianity began replacing some of the older faiths, the Sacramentum was put into Latin, though not exactly into the version you used, Miss Summers."

"I did that myself," Buffy admitted, but Imman only chuckled again.

"No doubt Rupert has given you one of his lectures by now. Rupert, do you have an email address? I can send you the information I have."

Giles obliged, then said, "Imman, about the 'one to the other' joining….."

"Rupert, if you hadn't buggered off and missed half of your training, you'd know about this."

Without thinking, Buffy said, "Giles, I like her."

He sighed into the phone. "I was in class when the Sacramentum was discussed."

"Not the Sacramentum, Rupert. The training around the Active Slayer's potential power, specifically the power she gains over the Watcher if she passes Cruciamentum. When she invokes the higher powers on you, Rupert, you'd better be careful. She can do a lot more than what she's done so far."

Buffy took a breath to steady herself. "You mean, I did the one to the other joining thing?"

"I mean, Miss Summers, that you can control it."

"And is there…..more?"

In a serious voice, Imman replied, "Yes."

"So I'd better be careful with messing up sacred words."

"Yes!" Giles said so loudly that Buffy pulled the phone away from her ear. Despite that, she heard Imman laugh again.

"Rupert, be a dear boy and email me in return with what's going on out there. I'm curious and now I owe Dr. Ravasajitar a favour."

"And, of course, it's not as though you're enjoying any personal amusement over my predicament," Giles said, though his tone was kind.

"It's about time you married and settled down," Imman said, and Buffy stifled a laugh.

"I'll let you know how this turns out," Giles said. "And thank you."

"You're quite welcome, Rupert. I'll send the email in a moment. And Miss Summers, I hope I may meet you in person one day."

"Me too," Buffy said.

After Giles hung up, she heard him call, "Buffy, Willow left the computer up there."

She found a laptop on the dresser. After bringing it down, she asked, "Giles, what was Willow doing in your bedroom?"

"She put the computer up there to keep it away from Spike." He looked at her and she startled again at the schism of his eyes in her body.

As she hooked up the laptop, she noticed that he was still standing by the phone, an odd expression on his face.

"Buffy," he asked, "how much orange juice did you drink before we left?"

"Why?" she asked, and then, dismayed, she understood. "Oh. Can't you hold it until after we get that lady's email?"

"If I was myself," he started.

Buffy felt a blush rise over her collar. Without looking at him, she said, "Remember, girls have to sit down. And d-don't look."

"Oh dear God," he muttered.

She heard him go up the stairs and tried hard not to think about what he was doing up there. When he returned, he was wearing track pants and a sweater, both of which looked very oversized on him.

"Did you miss?" she asked.

"No," Giles grumbled. "I'm not comfortable in a skirt."

"You'd better not have looked."

"The way it works, I'm unable to ask the same of you."

Panicked, Buffy pointed at the laptop. "Hurry up and read the email!"

After it came in, Buffy said quietly, "One thousand, thirty four k. And look, there's another one coming."

"Does that number mean large?" Giles asked and Buffy nodded.

"Very large," she said. "Usually, I'd make you a cup of tea right now, but I'm not sure I want to."

Giles gestured upstairs. "That went, uh, all right. And I wouldn't mind a cup of tea."

Buffy crossed her arms over her flat chest and stared at him. "You looked, didn't you?" she accused.

He turned his attention to the information Imman had sent and didn't answer.

"Men," she snapped, then realized how ludicrous that sounded right now.

She made tea and, after a long deliberation, poured a cup for herself too. In the meanwhile, Giles had located the printer that went with the laptop. He printed out the emails and gave her half.

Buffy sat on the couch and stretched Giles' long legs out over the cushions. She made an attempt to read, but it looked like he had given her the boring history of the Sacramentum, and nothing about what Slayers could do to their Watchers.

She looked in front of her, at the legs that were familiar and yet weren't. She held up the hands, Giles' hands. The fingers were long and callused, not the sort of calluses you'd get if you were only around books.

On his left hand was his ring, a school ring she believed, though it had never occurred to her to ask him. She removed it to check for an inscription, and found only a date - 1977.

She replaced it and glanced over guiltily, but he was immersed in papers at his desk.

Buffy tried again to read through her half of the email, and started yawning before managing a page. She let it drop to her lap, then, after another quick check on him, unbuttoned the sleeve of his left and arm and rolled it up.

The Eyghon tattoo came into view. It was large and some of the edges looked as though the tattooist had been drunk when he'd etched it.

This body had been in England, someplace she'd never been. These legs had walked London streets, these hands had touched things she couldn't begin to imagine, and these arms had held women, and perhaps men, she'd never met.

"Giles," she started, then stopped. She caught his movement as he looked up. "You knew Danube before he was a vamp?" she asked.

His answer came slowly. "The human, not the demon."

"Before when?"

"Does it matter?"

She turned her head and discovered that night was falling. Blue-black pressed at the windows. A lamp was on behind her, and a smaller one at his desk, and the room lay dim between them.

"Were you and he lovers?"

"Yes," he said. "Years ago."

"Do you prefer men?"

"It doesn't matter to me. Is there a point to your questions?"

She shook her head and gave the email another valiant attempt. After a little while, she felt him still looking at her. Buffy raised her head. He looked inquisitive yet amused too.

"I think you need to shave," he said.

"I don't shave above the, uh, underarms." Buffy rolled the sleeve back down before getting up and going to the desk. "What pages have you read already?"

Giles indicated a neat pile at a corner. "Did you find anything useful?"

She frowned. "I don’t care about the Sacramentum. I want to know what's in your pile, what sort of powers I get as the Slayer. You've never told me. Is it only because you skipped those classes?" Her words were harsh, though she wasn't sure if it was from being male or if something emotional lay underneath.

"Any information I had, I was always willing to share with you," Giles said softly. "I didn't think you were interested."

She picked up the papers on the desk. "What's in here?"

"More than I ever thought. I'd rather you read it yourself." He stood. "I'll make us some dinner."

Buffy glanced at her body walking away from the desk. "*I* can reverse this?" she asked.

Giles paused at the door to the kitchen. "Yes, and make it happen again, according to what I've read."

"How?"

"You should read it."

"Giles!"

"I can't tell you. It's not that I won't tell you. I can't. I don't know how." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, a habit she found strange to watch when played out on her face. "The Slayer has certain rights over her Watcher. Surviving the Cruciamentum gave you more of them. Joining us with the Sacramentum bestowed you with a few new ones."

"I have this even though the Council fired you?"

"This is older than the Council. Slayers didn't always have Watchers. I'm explaining this badly. Perhaps I should call them endowments instead of rights, but they affect me because of what I am to you."

Buffy stopped him again before he got all the way into the kitchen. "Giles, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do all of this to you. I just…..didn't want you to die."

He smiled. "I know."

FREED