Title: Certain Needs 2/2
Author: Ruth
Disclaimer: Giles, Buffy and the other characters of BtVS belong to
Joss, ME and sundry folk who never let Giles get a happy. Meanies.
Summary: Buffy has to face up to the fact that her Watcher has certain
needs.
"Magic Box, Anya Jenkins, Assistant Manager, speaking. How may I help you with your purchase enquiry?"
"Er, Anya, is, um…is Giles there?"
"Oh. Buffy. No, he's visiting all the existing suppliers to renegotiate terms, like he's done for the past three Wednesdays. You were supposed to come for training on Sunday, and yesterday. He waited after hours specially. Not that he had anything better to do; but it was still rather rude of you. If you come now, you'll have to wait."
"No, I, um, just agreed to meet Willow there. College stuff. Don't want to get in his…way. I'll probably be there soon. Bye."
Anya shrugged as she put the phone down.
"I don't want you to get in the way either," she announced to the four walls. " Very well, study. Make the shop look full and popular. Just don't get all your books out on the table and then not put them away."
***************************************
"So, what did Professor Schulz say? 'Work of genius' or 'use for firelighters'?"
"Verging on fire," reported Buffy glumly. "I thought it was all about jealousy and possession and women liking men who are mean to them, but she kept on about the secondary characters and the broader picture. Like, Emilia's speech to Desdemoaning…"
"Mona," Willow said between giggles.
"She does a lot of it though, you have to admit. I said it was just a smokescreen to excuse the fact that she'd cheated on her husband, but Prof. Schulz thinks it's a feminist rallying call for the sixteenth century."
"Mm. Have to say, I always liked that one. ' Have we not affections, desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?' Oh, hi Giles, you're back early."
"Yes. Despite having made an appointment, Mr Joh…Buffy. Hello..."
Willow looked at him curiously. At the sight of his Slayer, the colour had left his face and his greeting was so faint it could hardly be heard. Buffy for her part stared at the books on the table and hunched her shoulders, shrinking away from him as he took a slow step nearer. He cleared his throat and began again, as if forcing out the words.
"I…you missed two training sessions. You…you need to keep up your schedule; with this new threat in town, you can't afford to waste any time…s-self discipline is important."
Buffy glowered at her Cliff Notes. "Look who's talking," she hissed, quietly but unmistakably.
"Buffy, I'm…I'm sorry you had to…look, we can't discuss it here. Please…"
"I'm not up for 'discussing' it at all, thanks." With that, Buffy stood smartly and stalked out of the shop. Giles closed his eyes and sighed, and Willow, after a second's astonishment, followed her friend out into the street.
Anya looked at the pile of discarded books on the table and made a clucking sound with her tongue.
*********************************
Buffy moved fast, but when not on patrol, rarely at Slayer speed. Willow caught up with her on the corner by the Espresso Pump.
"Buffy! What's going on? Did you and Giles have a fight?"
"No." She moved to one side of the pavement to pass but Willow blocked her and grasped her by the shoulders.
"We can't afford for you two to fall out, or fall apart, or fall down or whatever. Xander said that every time he's mentioned Giles' name for the past few days, you changed the subject. It's me, Willow. The person you tell: tell-ee of your life. Come on, we'll sit over here, all in-the-corner private, okay?"
She guided Buffy into the Pump and found them the remotest table. The place was next to empty anyway: they were served quickly and then left alone by the waitress, who returned to flirting with the delivery guy.
"So if you didn't have a fight, which is by the way how it looked, what happened?"
Buffy buried her nose in the froth on her cappuccino as she minutely inspected the rim of the cup. For a long while she said nothing, only drank and wiped froth from her face with a napkin, scrubbing until all trace was gone. Willow waited patiently but relentlessly, drilling her with a steely gaze whenever she managed to catch her eye.
"It was *so*…creepy and awful. I didn't mean to… I was just sneaking in to prove I could do it and he…" Buffy shuddered theatrically.
"Sneaking where? The store? Giles' place?"
" I went to his apartment Saturday night on a…not a mission, more like a 'I'll show you who's the Slayer, mister' gig. I got in without him knowing and he was…he was…"
Willow's brow knitted in concern. "Oh, Buffy, he isn't drinking again? 'Cause over last summer, a lot of last year in fact, there was a big problem with that. Maybe you didn't notice so much, but..."
Buffy interrupted her with a deep breath, and a revelation that she rushed out as fast as she could to prevent herself dwelling on the actual words.
"He-was-reading-a-dirty-book-and-jerking-off."
Willow's jaw stayed hanging open until she'd collected herself enough to squeak:
"*Oh*."
For long minutes they said nothing more. Willow picked intently at a chip in the surface of the table, Buffy shuffled in her seat and twiddled with the ends of her hair.
"It must have been really embarrassing," ventured Willow, at last.
"Embarrassing isn't the word. Gross and disgusting; those are the words." Buffy's pert little nose wrinkled expressively.
Her friend sent her a reproachful look across the table.
"I meant embarrassing for *Giles*. You turn up in his living room unannounced…"
"Bedroom. He was in the loft."
"His *bedroom*? Buffy, *think* about it. He was doing something private and personal, something a lot of guys do..."
"Guys like the ones in greasy coats that hang out in the downtown movie theater during "French Cinema Week", maybe. Not ordinary, normal guys. Since when is Giles a "guy" anyway?"
Willow raised her hand and ticked off the points one by one for Buffy to see. "Let's see. Deep voice, five o'clock shadow by five o'clock, never been known to wear a skirt. *Of course* he's a guy. And normal guys *do* do it."
"Tell me that when it's someone *you* know who turns out to be a total pervert," retorted Buffy sharply. Willow frowned at her and reluctantly proceeded to breach a confidence. She offered a silent apology to her best Y-side friend, hoping he would accept it in the cause of male solidarity.
"I know someone who does it, or they used to. Kinda doubt if he gets the time these days," she sniggered quietly, "but back in High School, once, I went to Xander's house and the front door was open, no grown-ups around: I think his mom had gone to the store to get some more...well, never mind. So I just walked right in and up to his room and opened the door...and..."She shrugged eloquently.
"*Xander*? God."
"Uh-huh. Remember Snyder and the witch hunt? Playboys in Xander's locker? According to my mom, it's the norm rather than not. At least, that guys have to...help themselves out, sometimes. She didn't say about naughty books, but I guess it makes sense. There's a whole section in the independent bookstore on Pendleton. Gay stuff, too."
"How do you...no, I don't wanna know. So, you think it's okay for Giles to..."
"I think it's sad that he doesn't have anyone special in his life any more. He didn't say anything as such, but I'm pretty sure Olivia dumped him right after that time with The Gentlemen, and he hasn't so much as been on a date since: a whole year. But he still must… y'know. All the… *feelings* are still there..."
"But...but it's *Giles*." Buffy felt the argument begin to slip away from her, but couldn't abandon it without at least a token protest.
"Yes. Giles: the *guy*. The man; who's not sick or infirm or had any weird operations that make anything stop working, and who deserves an apology and a bit of understanding."
"What do you mean?"
"I think you owe him an apology for sneaking into his house and invading his privacy. And I think you need to be more understanding. Probably we all do, but your opinion matters to him more. Emilia's speech, only in reverse."
"Huh?"
"Women are interested in sex and relationships just like men. Men are interested in them just like women. So if you can get excited thinking about Riley in a smoochie way, just like I can about Tara, and if, when they're gone, we don't just miss them for the conversation, I think you should give Giles a break."
Willow had to leave to go to a class. Buffy ordered another cappuccino and sat with it, thinking.
**************************************
Giles, alerted by three raps of metal on wood, opened his front door to find his Slayer on the threshold.
"Buffy. How can I help you?" he asked her a little formally, wary of the purpose of her visit.
She paused; then, met his eye squarely.
"Is it all right if I come in?"
Giles seemed surprised that she felt it necessary - or bothered - to ask.
"Of course, please do."
He closed the door gently behind her and made for the kitchen as she sat on his green velvet couch in front of the fireplace.
"Tea? Soda? Lemonade?"
"Tea, if there's some made."
The time it took to fill cups and take out cookies from their packet wasn't long, but gave Buffy the chance to practice her speech again. As soon as Giles had crossed the room and, after she'd invited him to do so, sat down on the opposite far end of the couch, she gave it its maiden voyage.
"Giles, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I came into your house without knocking...again. I'm sorry I've been such a bitch about something that's really none of my business. I let it interfere with training, with...I hope it's our friendship. You have a right to your personal space, like everyone else. `Cept you're more special than everyone else. Everyone else isn't my Watcher and I don't want them to be. Can we start over, please?"
As she spoke, Giles' face unfroze from tense apprehension to warm regard, and one of his infrequent, dazzling full smiles crowned the last of her words.
"Of course. Always. I'm sorry if you were shocked or offended by...what you saw..." He had dipped his head and lowered his voice for this last, and Buffy leaned forward and bent until she caught his gaze, getting him to face her properly once more.
"Hey, this is *my* 'sorry' time. Don't cut into it. You didn't do anything bad. I admit I was kinda - a lot - freaked. But it wasn't fair of me. I mean, sure, I'd like it better if you had a nice lady friend..."
Giles raised an eyebrow. She abruptly remembered her initial reaction to Olivia and blushed.
"Okay, I'd like it as long as no-one's frolicking in nightwear or borrowed shirts at my eye level."
The eyebrow stayed up.
"Well, what do you *expect*?" Buffy finally asked in exasperation.
"How old are you now? Approaching twenty?"
She nodded but frowned, not quite seeing the direction he was headed.
"You're no longer a child, unable to believe that anyone *really* wants to do the things in the sex education books. Time to stop being an adolescent, unable to imagine that anyone *else* wants to do them, don't you think?" Giles suggested mildly.
Buffy hesitated, then had the grace to concede.
"Yeah, I guess. Sorry all over again. And I'm serious about you finding someone. I really would be happy for you if it happened. It's difficult and all, with the secret identity thing; boy, do I know that. But maybe you could…you could try. Hang out at a grown-up place, a bar…no, you're not 'bar guy'. The Pump, maybe? Or, hey, I read in a magazine that a *lot* of people meet a partner at work, or through work. There's that woman who delivers the petrified hamsters, what's her name…"
"Gloria. She's happily married. Louise, who checks the accounts, likewise. Melinda with the…interesting hairstyle and the line in artefacts of dubious legality is a lesbian, and Pauline the salamander breeder…"
"Yeah, what about her? She's a little young for you, maybe, but hey, twenty-first century here, look at Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Go for it."
Giles smiled faintly but shook his head and looked rueful as he told her:
"I asked. She turned me down; didn't want to get involved with a customer. It really isn't that easy, Buffy. I'm…not a natural mixer. I find small talk next to impossible, and discussion as to what exactly I'm doing in America very difficult to engage in without a good deal of outright lying. Not to mention the likelihood of some supernatural crisis descending from a great height at a moment's notice. I won't say I've completely given up hope of…forming an intimate relationship, precisely. I'm just not, well, holding my breath. Meanwhile, biology is no respecter of callings, and just as I still need to eat, sleep and so on: from time to time, I also …also need…" he trailed off, reddening. "That," he gestured vaguely in the direction of the loft, "isn't my *preference*, you know. It's simply all that's available to me at the moment." Trying to cover his embarrassment with humour, he put on a mock innocent expression and asked the ceiling: "What's a lonely, single man to do?"
Buffy still felt - and knew she looked - uncomfortable with the idea. << C'mon. Nearly twenty, like the man said. Mature. Sophisticated, even. >>
"So what's with the reading? Instruction manual?"
As soon as it had come out of her mouth she wished it right back in there. Giles began to cough convulsively, and Buffy patted him companionably on the back until he'd recovered.
"No!" he finally choked. "It's, ah…I-instructions are not really…it's more for, um…inspiration. Imagination…"
"It's okay, Giles, you don't have to explain. Don't want your complexion to clash with your sweater." They had a moment of shared amusement. "I already know books turn you on anyway," she continued daringly. "What *was* that one, if you don't mind me asking?"
He took off his glasses and rested them in both hands, inspecting them intently.
"Actually, I do mind, rather. But if you insist, it was 'Fanny Hill'. Considered in some circles to be a minor classic, despite the, er, subject matter."
Buffy burst into giggles."*Fanny*! What on earth kind of a name is that?"
"Traditional English diminutive of Frances. It doesn't have at all the same connotations as it does here."
Something in his tone, and the fact that he was obviously trying not to laugh, piqued her curiosity.
"So what…'connotations' *does* it have in the Mother Country?"
Giles concentrated on the painting over the mantelpiece on the far wall as he spoke in his best 'I'm merely imparting information, do with it as you will' voice.
"It's um, vulgar slang for, er, a different but adjacent portion of the anatomy. *Female* anatomy, specifically. Quite long established, I believe. Certainly, they used it in the eighteenth century, the time the book was written. Cleland didn't choose his protagonist's name by accident, I'm sure."
"*Giles*! Okay, okay, I asked. Now I'm stopping."
"Thank you." He sounded genuinely grateful.
Giles brewed a fresh pot and they drank it in renewed comfortable silence. When Buffy stood up to go, he stood with her and saw her to the door. As they said their goodbyes, she offered:
"We might not be able to do anything about the 'single' right away, but I don't want to leave too much of the 'lonely'. We could hang out sometime. Watcher/Slayer bonding, shop talk, little cookies, improve your taste in music, that kind of thing?" She looked up at him, midway between teasing and hope.
"Or improve *your* taste…But it's a very kind thought. You know you're welcome at any time, Buffy. Just…"
"Yeah?"
"Don't forget to knock."
END
4 April 2003