Title: Atonement, Part 7
Author: Neena (varscona_pal@yahoo.ca)
Overall rating: NC-17
Pairing: Giles/Angel
Summary: Angel returns to Sunnydale intent on saving Giles’ life and making amends, but discovers that his good intentions may bring about more suffering than either of them can handle.
Setting: Season four of BtVS, season one of AtS.
Warning: Slash and a little angst.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Kuzui, Fox, ME, Sandollar, etc. own the rights to the characters in this story, but I’m happy to live in their shadow.
Giles had done his best to put on a brave face all day. He joked with the nurses and continually reassured Xander that he was fine. And considering how close he’d come to dying—twice—he supposed he was doing better than expected. Physically, at least.
Psychologically he was a mess, and he knew it. The only thing that had kept him from losing it today was having Xander with him. His young friend obviously knew what had happened between him and Angel, but he had the good grace not to say anything about it. He was simply there—a friendly presence to lean on or talk to, if needed—no questions asked.
Although he would never admit it, Giles was relieved when Xander offered to stay at his place for the duration of his recovery. Right now, more than anything, the thought of being alone filled him with dread.
But it wasn’t until Xander led him through the door of his apartment that Giles allowed himself to feel the full impact of everything that had happened to him.
Xander suddenly found himself supporting the bulk of Giles’ weight. He grunted under the strain, but managed to guide him over to the couch. As carefully as he could, Xander sat his friend down and propped his broken leg up with cushions.
“Thank-you, Xander,” said Giles, his voice tremulous as he gave Xander’s hand a squeeze.
Xander wondered briefly if Giles had heard the rumours that had been spreading through the hospital about them. “Hey, what are friends for?” he said.
“Speaking of which,” said Giles, “have you heard from Buffy?”
Xander heard the undertone in his voice and knew he was a bit hurt that she hadn’t come back to see him. “Nada. Zip,” said Xander, trying to keep his voice light and happy. “She’s probably still on the hunt for Angelus.”
Giles cringed a little upon hearing his name. So far everyone had been careful not to use it in front of him.
“Sorry,” said Xander.
“No, it’s alright, Xander. Don’t feel you have to edit yourself for my sake. If we’re going to be rooming together I don’t want you to be walking on eggshells the whole time.”
“Roomies. I like that—I’ve never been a roomie before. Just a couple of single guys living together…uh…doing guy things,” he added after he realized what he’d said could have been taken the wrong way. “I think that calls for a special meal. I call it bachelor stew—macaroni and cheese, beans and franks all thrown together into a pot. Mmm-mmm.”
“If you think threatening me with gastric terrorism will give me incentive to heal faster, then keep it up.”
Xander grinned. “Pizza, then?”
“Yes, I think that’s best,” said Giles. He wasn’t exactly thrilled at the thought of pizza—actually, the thought of eating anything made him queasy—but he knew he had to eat something. Better to order pizza than try his luck with Xander’s bachelor stew.
“Great! That’s dinner taken care of,” said Xander, hovering behind the couch like a nervous canary looking for a perch. “Is there anything I can get you to tide you over?” he asked.
All he got in response was a soft snoring sound. Xander walked around to the other side of the couch to confirm that Giles was, in fact, asleep. He stood there for a minute, not sure what he should do. Giles’ neck was tilted awkwardly, and if he slept that way for too long he’d have one hell of a crick when he woke up. On the other hand, Xander didn’t want to wake him up trying to move him. He decided to let him sleep—he obviously needed it.
Giles awoke from a deep, dreamless nap and rubbed gingerly at the kink in his neck. He hurt all over, and his leg was positively screaming at him for attention. He was groggy and disoriented and he had no idea how long he’d been sleeping or what had awakened him.
There was a loud knocking at the door and Giles’ heart rate skyrocketed. Angelus. It had to be Angelus, come to finish what he’d started.
>From down the hall Giles heard the toilet flush and a door shut as Xander stumbled out of the bathroom in his haste to answer the door.
“Coming!” Xander called out as he ran.
“Be careful,” said Giles. “Don’t answer the door until you see who it is.”
Normally Xander would have been insulted by the insinuation that he might make such a juvenile mistake, but he knew that Giles didn’t mean anything by it. He was nervous, that’s all.
“I’ll be careful, don’t worry,” said Xander, and proved his point by taking an extra long time inspecting the person through the peephole. “It’s pizza. Should I frisk her?” Giles merely frowned at him, so he took that as a ‘no’ and opened the door to the ticked-off delivery girl. She smacked her gum at him and rolled her eyes.
“That’s $15.50,” she said, peering past Xander to see inside the condo.
“I thought it was $12.00,” said Xander.
“Tip,” she answered bluntly.
Xander dug his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out everything he had. “All I’ve got is $16.00,” he said.
The girl snatched the bills out of his hand and smacked her gum again. “Great. Thanks,” she said, and she walked away, quickly pocketing the money.
“I think I’ve just been robbed,” said Xander as he closed the door with his foot, two steaming hot pizzas cradled lovingly in his arms.
“Can you blame her?” asked Giles. “I’d demand a generous tips, too, if I had to make nightly deliveries in this town.”
“Good point. Kind of like hazard pay, right?” said Xander as he set the boxes down on the coffee table. He flung them open and dug in, pulling a stringy slice of ‘za from the first box. He’d half devoured it before he noticed that Giles hadn’t even made a move towards his yet. “You want a plate? Knife and fork?” asked Xander around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni.
“No,” said Giles with a smile that only managed to lift one side of his mouth. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought.”
Xander put down his slice and swallowed his mouthful. “Giles, you have to eat something. I get that you don’t really want to…but at least try.”
Giles stared at the greasy-looking disc of cheese and meat and felt his gorge rise slightly. This time, when a knock sounded at the door, he was almost relieved—anything was preferable to forcing down even one bite of his dinner.
Xander, however, looked totally freaked, and he approached the door as if he expected it to burst inwards and knock him flat. But when he peeked through the peephole he sighed with relief and pulled the door open.
Buffy came in, all fresh and clean and dressed to kill…or at least to slay.
“Buffy!” said Giles, his face instantly breaking into a genuine smile, his eyes asking the unspoken question, ‘any luck?’
Buffy seemed to sag under his intense gaze. “Sorry, Giles.”
“Nothing? Not even a lead?” he asked, his hopes vanishing.
“Leads? Sure, I’ve got plenty of leads. Lots. Just…tonnes of leads,” she said, smiling the bright smile of the liar.
“So, nothing?” asked Giles again.
“Nope. Nothing. Not a thing,” she admitted, sagging even further. “It’s like he left the hospital and fell off the face of the Earth.”
“If only,” Giles murmured.
Buffy smiled wanly at him. “I’ll find him, Giles. I promise. Just…”
“What?” asked Giles, prodding her out of her hesitation.
“Just promise me you’ll stay inside where you’ll be safe?”
“You won’t get any arguments from me,” Giles replied.
“And Xander, I want you by his side, 24, 7. Understand?”
“Ay-ay, Capitan,” Xander answered with a mock salute.
“I mean it,” she said sternly. “Angelus has got a serious Jones-on for Giles.”
Xander sobered up quickly. “I won’t let him out of my site for a minute,” he promised.
“Thanks,” Buffy hesitated, looking at Giles as if she had more to say—a whole lot more—but couldn’t find the words to express it. Giles gave her a slow nod, acknowledging her unspoken regrets. Buffy hung her head and left, believing that the only way to set things right again was through action…and preferably a good bit of ass whooping.
Giles watched helplessly as Xander wrestled his mattress down the flight of stairs from the loft. He tried to tell him that it wasn’t necessary—he could sleep on the couch and Xander could use the bed upstairs—but Xander would have none of it. He’d promised to keep an eye on him 24, 7, and he couldn’t do that from a different room.
At the bottom of the stairs the mattress collided with the coat stand, knocking it over with a loud crash.
“Oops,” said Xander. “I can fix that, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. I just wish I could help,” said Giles.
“You kidding? Nothing helps with the heavy lifting like an audience. You’re like my own private cheering section.”
“And me without my pom-poms,” said Giles dryly, eliciting one of Xander’s trademark grins.
“That’s the spirit,” Xander said, and grunted as he shoved the mattress across the floor to the living room. It fell flat on the floor with a muffled, mattressy whump, and Xander smiled at his accomplishment.
They spent the next hour or two playing Yahtzee. It was a trick Xander had learned growing up—if you wanted to take your mind off of something nasty, nothing worked better than playing a game. A board game, preferably. Sadly, Giles’ selection consisted of a battered Monopoly game with most of the pieces missing, and Yahtzee. It seemed to work well enough—talk was limited to comments on luck and strategy, and the rattling of the dice in the cup was a comforting sound. Only when the circles under Giles’ eyes grew dark and he could no longer hide his exhaustion did he admit it was time to call it a night.
Xander fed him his pills and tucked him in, literally, before making up the couch for himself. He was dog tired, but he waited until Giles was deep asleep before turning off the light and crawling into his makeshift bed.
Hidden in the dark recesses of Giles’ broom closet, Angelus had been waiting and plotting. He’d nearly blown his cover when he heard Buffy come in earlier, but when he realised she had no clue he was there he stayed put. The game was still on.
And even after the lights went off in the rest of the apartment he continued to wait—wait until Xander had passed into the deepest realms of dreamless sleep—before making his move.
Angelus silently opened the door of the closet and padded down the hallway to the living room where Giles and Xander were peacefully asleep. He stood watching them for a moment, giddy with the same kind of excitement children feel on Christmas morning, right before they tear into their presents. He shrugged off his leather jacket and stepped out of his shoes.
Giles stirred in his sleep as Angelus crawled under the blankets with him. Stirred…but not shaken—just what Angelus wanted. He eased himself slowly into position behind Giles, careful not to wake him. It took a while, but at last he was spooning him from behind, his cool body soaking up the other man’s heat. He savoured the moment, watching Giles’ slow breathing and the pulse that ebbed and flowed just beneath the bandage on his neck. Giles slept on, but even in his sleep he must have sensed something was wrong, because his brow was furrowed in a deep frown.
Angelus could wait no longer—his proximity to Giles was making him heady with need. He wrapped his arm around him, and roughly ground himself against his backside. He was ready when Giles awoke with a start, stifling his cry by clamping his hand over his mouth. Angelus chuckled quietly into his ear, as he felt hot, panting breath against his fingers.
In a barely audible whisper Angelus said: “Hush, now, Rupert. You don’t want to wake the baby, do you?”
Giles’ eyes darted over to where Xander lay sleeping on the couch.
“…’cause if he wakes up, I’ll have to take care of him before I can have my fun with you. And I’ll bet you wouldn’t want that. Am I right?”
Giles nodded submissively, his tired heart trying valiantly to keep pace with his rising panic.
“Good,” whispered Angelus. “Then you’ll be nice and quiet and let me take what I want?”
Again he nodded in reply, keeping his eyes focused on Xander, telling himself it was better him than his young friend.
Satisfied that Giles was fully compliant, Angelus took his hand away from the other man’s mouth. “Not a sound,” he reminded him, and then he slowly peeled back the bandage on his neck. This time there was no need to rush. This time he could prolong it until Giles was ripe with fear. This time, instead of biting right away, Angelus kissed the reopened wound. Kissed him softly and let his hand slide up Giles’ chest to rest over his pounding heart. The anticipation was making him hard, and he thrust against Giles repeatedly to let him know it. He wanted Giles to know he could have him right now, while his friend slept unaware, only a few feet away. But as much as he wanted to, he didn’t take him. Now wasn’t the time.
A little more kissing and a few gentle nibbles later, and Angelus allowed himself to penetrate the awaiting flesh, drawing blood from him in trickles, like he was sampling a fine wine. He knew there could be no worse torture than this for Giles…the gentle caresses…the drawn-out threat of death. And then the unexpected release.
Before Giles could pass out from blood loss, Angelus pulled away and carefully replaced the bandage. Giles looked at him, sluggish but wary, assuming that the worst was yet to come. But Angelus had other plans.
“You did very well, Rupert. I’m proud of you. Xander’s very lucky to have such a loyal friend. And if you don’t want his luck to run out, you’ll come to the mansion tomorrow night, and you’ll come alone. If you haven’t noticed, you’re the one I want…but if you don’t do what I ask, I might have to get my kicks somewhere else.” Angelus made his point clear, looking from Giles to Xander with a look of hunger that made Giles’ stomach twist.
Angelus didn’t have to wait for Giles to answer—one way or the other Giles was his. He’d been branded.