TITLE: Beauty 4/7
AUTHOR: Lily2332
DISCLAIMER: They’re not mine, don’t sue.
Giles didn’t like the apologetic look that he received from Joyce the second she opened the door. Before she could say "I’m sorry," he had pushed his way through the door, into the house.
"I’m sorry," she said firmly. "Buffy’s…sleeping. She’s not feeling well." She couldn’t make eye contact as she told the lie.
"I know about Buffy." he told her. "I saw her last night."
"You- you saw her?" she said weakly. "Oh."
"I need to talk to her."
Her reluctance was obvious. "I don’t think so, Mr. Giles. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and she won’t see anyone during the day. Not even me."
He just stared at the woman, sharing her sadness.
"The psychologist says-"
"She’s seeing a psychologist!?" he broke in, for some reason furious at the very idea.
She looked a little embarrassed. "No, no." she assured him. "I’ve been talking to one at the hospital, though. There are going to be…issues…that she’ll need to deal with. She may need help."
He couldn’t argue with that. Already she was hiding herself, living the life of a vampire. "I agree." he admitted, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could be the one to give her that help.
"Still, I must try." He insisted. "Even if she won’t talk to me."
She heard the desperation in his voice. How could she tell him?
"Mr. Giles…even if Buffy felt up to having visitors, I don’t think she’d want to see you. Look, it’s none of my business if you two had a fight or something. But normally, you’re the person that-" She hesitated, hating to admit this. "You take care of her. And she is lost. So whatever it is, I suggest you work it out…I mean, you’re her Watcher! Why weren’t you watching when this happened!?" She didn’t sound accusing, just scared. "Never mind. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault."
His face paled. "Yes, well." She had no idea how wrong she was. And of course, Buffy was too loyal to him, even with all he’d done, to tell her mother exactly whose fault it was.
"Please. I just need to see her."
Joyce started to shake her head, but stopped midshake as she noticed his appearance for the first time. She’d never seen him unshaven before, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept.
"Go on." She conceded.
Buffy curled herself into a ball in the middle of the bed. She hugged her knees tightly, in a futile attempt to comfort herself. She rocked back and forth a little, humming to herself, before something stopped her. She knew what it felt like by now, after almost four years of being watched. It felt good.
She knew that Giles was standing over her. <Oh, God, I bet I look like I’m ready for the looney bin.> But she didn’t care about that right now, she was experiencing too many emotions, hope being one of them.
"I don’t want to see you." She said, testing him. If he really wasn’t appalled by her face, if he really loved her, he would stay. <Sit down. Hold me.> She pleaded silently.
"Buffy, is there any way you can ever forgive me? Please, give me the chance to try to help." He said solemnly. "Let me try."
If he had come here looking for more than a way to appease his guilt, he would already have his arms around her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Tears were not welcome. She wouldn’t make him stay, not that way.
<Pick me up, I need you to touch me.> She thought in defeat, while saying aloud, "Fine. I forgive you. I want to be alone!" She put all of her longing and hurt into that word, falsely portraying it as anger to drive him away. If he didn’t want her, then she wasn’t going to beg.
Just a man, he couldn’t hear her heart’s cry, only what she told him. Giles was left completely oblivious to her need for him, because in his opinion, he didn’t deserve the chance to make things better.
She knew she had the power to make him stay, but what would be the good of having a watcher who stayed out of guilt, biding his time until he could go home and make love to someone else? There was no comfort in that.
"I’ll patrol tonight," she said without emotion. It took a great deal of effort to conceal her despair, but what she did next was even harder. She lied to him. "I’ll report afterwards." She had no intention of setting foot near his house and letting Olivia see her like this, but maybe he’d leave her alone if she promised.
His heart soared. "Really?" Without his guard up, the surge of hope was sadly obvious in his voice. He had to go now, make everything perfect for her arrival. "All right then." He said, backing towards the door. "I’ll see you later."
<Oh, Buffy, thank you. That’s all I need is the chance to make it right. I’ll do whatever I have to to make it better.> He promised her in his mind.
Olivia’s things were gone when he returned home. Other than an empty liquor cabinet, there was no visible evidence that she’d ever been there in the first place. That, and a brief note. She had no regrets or hard feelings, their relationship wasn’t like that. But he did have a feeling that he’d never see her again.
He put his bags down on the counter, unpacking the items one by one. He’d stopped by the store, buying some of Buffy’s favorite things to eat and drink. A couple of them had been quite a splurge, but it would be worth it if she forgave him.
Buffy finished patrolling a little later than usual. Late because she’d gathered the courage to go to campus, but only managed to linger around the edges, not quite able to revisit the spots where she knew the vampires would be. Not yet.
She was dressed in her new uniform, black, black, and more black. She’d begun opting for hoods instead of hats, mainly because they not only covered her hair, but partially concealed her face.
Giles would’ve been expecting her a while ago. She wondered what he was doing. It had probably been her imagination, but he’d almost sounded happy when she’d said she was going to see him tonight. <Too bad.> She told herself. She had her plan already formed. She would go to L.A. and help Angel. In a city like that, she would blend in, and wouldn’t have to face the people who cared about her. She could keep herself hidden during the day, and work at night. It was perfect. Giles would be relieved.
Despite her plan to go directly home, she found herself standing on an out of the way street, staring at the numbers marking the address. 4616. She stood there for a while before stealthily passing through the front gate, and approaching his door. Walking past the door, she stood on tiptoes to see in the window.
Giles looked at his watch again. She was late. He took off his glasses, placing them on the desk where he sat. No, he finally admitted to himself, she wasn’t coming. She’d lied. They’d come so far, and because of his cruel mistake, she’d reverted back to lying to him. And if the trust was gone, what else did they have left?
Buffy leaned her forehead against the window. He was waiting. For her.
His chest began to rise and fall heavily, and he looked almost in pain. Her eyes widened as she thought heart attack, ready to dash inside. But as his face fell forward into his hands, and his shoulders began to jerk sporadically, she realized with a jolt that her Watcher was crying. For her.
Buffy’s first instinct, as usual, was to flee. But as she turned to leave, she caught the sound of a harsh sob through the windowpane. At that moment, she realized that he felt every ounce of her pain, and she shared his as well. She’d been cheating him by denying him the opportunity to help her through this. Cheating them both.
She let herself in quietly, and stood behind him for a moment. She wondered how many times he’d cried like this, alone at night, over something his slayer had done.
She reached out, putting her arms around him and resting her head against the side of his neck. It was a gesture meant to comfort him, but just feeling him against her was healing her own malaise. He grasped her hands in his own, a little too hard, but he wasn’t going to let her go this time. She wanted him to turn around and hold her, but she could tell that he still needed time to compose himself.
Their relationship had never included physical touch, but at this moment, it was dependent on it. They each needed the other’s closeness, and not just for a minute. Buffy thought that perhaps she’d never move from this spot.
He brought her hand up to his lips, and kissed it not gently, but rather desperately. He didn’t know how to convey to her his regret over everything that had happened. Words hadn’t worked thus far. He kissed her other, and she could feel the hot tears on her fingers.
He stood, keeping her hand in his, and led her over to the couch. They sat, and still neither of them spoke. Giles noticed that she wasn’t looking at him, and was fairly sure he knew why her gaze remained fixed on the sofa.
He cautiously put his fingers under her chin, and nudged upward, until a pair of frightened green eyes met his. Her lips parted in an almost protest, but she trusted instead. His own eyes softened, reflecting his approval.
He brushed one hand underneath the oversized hood, caressing the smooth softness of her unscarred cheek. His other hand still held hers, and he squeezed slightly.
She knew what his intentions were, and felt tears springing to her eyes. One made it’s way slowly down her cheek, and he shook his head, taking the edge of the fabric, and slowly pushing it back, away from her face, giving her a chance to say no. She bit her trembling lip until it hurt, but allowed him the chance to see her. Ever so slowly, he unzipped the jacket, and pulled it off her, leaving her more exposed than she’d ever allowed since the attack had happened.
He saw her scars, and his fingers grazed over them, wiping away the tear in the process. She stiffened when he touched her face and made a whimpering sound, her free hand clutching the upholstery. Again, he shook his head, moving his tender touch away from her face. He ran his hand over the short, silky locks, knowing how hard this was for her but also how much she needed it.
Buffy nervously watched him, but he didn’t seem disgusted. He had much the same expression that he had the night he’d tended to her on her eighteenth birthday, one of loving concern, and perhaps a little sadness. But on her birthday, he hadn’t done what he was doing next.
He leaned toward her, and Buffy, unable to take any more, closed her eyes. She took a startled breath as she felt his warm lips brush across her forehead, her cheeks, and finally, across her mouth. It wasn’t a romantic kiss, she reminded herself, but it filled her with more unbearable sweetness than she’d ever known.
When he’d finished, he took her face in both hands, and whispered her name. She opened her eyes, glad that he seemed steady, because she felt like a big quivering heap of nerves.
"This is who you are." he told her, his face just inches from hers. She could feel his breath as he spoke. "You’re a warrior, and you’re beautiful."
Anyone else, and she wouldn’t have bought it. But his voice was sincere, shaking with emotion, and there was no mistaking the absolute devotion she saw when he looked at her. She didn’t feel beautiful, but she did feel loved, and she wasn’t afraid.
There was nothing to be afraid of here, in the nighttime, with Giles. Daytime was a different story. In the sunlight it was going to be bright, crowded, and very scary.