Title: England and the Afterlife 6/7
Author: Saint Buffy
Feedback: I'll make it easy for you: `Dear Saint B, I really enjoyed this fic.' Now cut, paste and send.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue

She was about to head out on patrol when the phone rang. Dawn picked it up. Xander was still there, as he was most nights, the three of them sticking together even more now they were so few. Buffy had held it together as best she could after the others got back, not letting herself think about Giles, until she could let out her anger on a couple of unsuspecting vamps. She sighed when Dawn called her name.

"It's for you," her sister said, handing the phone over. Buffy wandered into the living room.

"Hello?"

"Buffy?" It was Giles. She stopped. His voice was talking to her on the other end of the phone. "Are you all right? I got a message that a strange American woman had phoned me in the middle of the night, and assumed it was you."

She couldn't speak. "Buffy?" Her eyes were stinging, heart pounding in her chest. "Did you phone? Is everything all right?"

"Giles," she managed, half choking.

"Buffy, tell me," he said, voice serious, quiet. Her heart hardened suddenly.

"You bastard," she hissed. "You were going to die."

"Wha-"

"You just came blasting back here, without saying anything, without phoning, planning to let Willow kill you! You *know* that's not how we do things. There's no way I let my watcher go out killing himself. We plan stuff together, all of us, and we *never* plan on someone dying."

"Buffy, where are you getting all this from?" He sounded confused.

"I got your letter," Buffy bit back. There was a silence.

"Oh," he said, eventually, very quietly. Buffy waited, seething. "Buffy, I… I can't talk about that like this."

"We wouldn't have to talk about it like this if you hadn't run off again," she snapped.

"Listen, I'll… Willow's doing very well. I'll see if I can leave her here for a while. I can't talk about this over the phone."

"But you can write it in a letter?"

There was another long pause. "I'll phone you back when I know what I'm doing," Giles said, sounding annoyed. He hung up.

Buffy put the phone back in the kitchen. Xander and Dawn stopped talking as she came in, obviously sensing the tension rolling off her in waves.

"Who was that?" Dawn asked tentatively.

"Giles," Buffy said.

"How's Willow?" Xander asked. Buffy smiled, trying to act more normally.

"She's doing well, he said," she replied, and turned back. "I'm going on patrol. Giles might ring back. If he does, can one of you take a message?"

She stalked back out as the others murmured agreements.

The next evening, they were sprawled in the living room watching a movie Xander had brought round when the sound of things falling in the kitchen disturbed them.

"Must be Anya," Xander said, a little nervously. "I dunno why she always picks the kitchen to materialise in. She popped up in mine the day Willow left and broke my favourite coffee mug."

They all turned as someone came down the corridor, looking up in time to see Giles enter the room carrying a suitcase.

Buffy stood up. Giles looked at her, his face determined. Without looking away he reached into his pocket and held some notes out to Xander and Dawn, who both sat, open-mouthed, on the sofa.

"Would you mind visiting the Bronze this evening?" he said to them, voice light, as if he materialised in people's transatlantic kitchens every day. Xander scrambled up and took the money.

"Yeah, sure," he said nervously. "I mean, good to see ya, Big G. I didn't know you could do that thing. I mean, I knew you did that thing that time-"

"We'll be back later," Dawn said, cutting Xander off.

"Take a stake," Buffy added, unable to tear her eyes away from Giles's gaze.

"'Course," Dawn said, and in a brief frantic rush, they were gone.

Giles looked away as the door shut and went to sit on the sofa. He gestured to his eyes.

"I remembered my glasses, this time," he said.

"I thought you couldn't do that normally," said Buffy, gesturing to the kitchen where he had appeared. Giles looked up at her.

"It seemed like the occasion warranted it," he replied. There was a pause as they stared at each other, trying to guess what the other was thinking.

"Doesn't it tire you out?"

"Buffy," Giles said firmly. He patted the sofa beside him. "We need to talk."

Buffy hesitated, then sat on the coffee table. She met his gaze.

"I can't believe you thought you could just come back here and kill yourself," she said. "All that stuff you said in the Magic Box, laughing with me, saying you were sorry you left, and all along you were only saying it because you thought-"

"I could see no other way of stopping Willow," Giles said quietly. "She was out of control."

"You could have talked to us," Buffy said. "You had all that power, we could have thought of something else."

"There was nothing else, Buffy," said Giles. He took his glasses off, letting them drop on to the sofa beside him. "I knew if I talked to you first, you'd never let me… do what needed doing. This was something I had to do by myself, and I don't regret it."

"Don't go all macho on me," she said, beginning to lose her temper. "If you weren't running away all the time, you'd know we always do things together. The whole gang," she said, making a wide gesture. Her voice softened. "Or just you and me."

He looked at her. "You didn't need me any more, Buffy. Not as a watcher, not as… not for anything. All you did was lean on me when you should have been strong."

"I do need you," Buffy said. He looked away. "You've taught me all about being a slayer, and you've taught all of us how to research. But I don't need you as a slayer's handbook, or as Research Guy. I need you as Giles. I need you." She reached out and took his hands.

He met her eyes again, searching them, then looked down.

"Buffy, what I said in that letter… it was meant to reach you only after my death. I left strict instructions for it only to be sent if I died." He frowned. "I still don't know how it got to you."

"I'm glad it did," Buffy said. "I'm glad I know what you were going to do."

His first finger had begun to trace a tender, imaginary line over her knuckles. He watched it. "I never meant for you to know how I feel, while I was still alive."

"Why not?" Buffy asked, gripping his hands harder. They were warm. Giles looked up at her.

"Why not?" he echoed. "Look at me. I'm older than you, and unlike other of your partners, I look it. There's nothing I can offer you- normality, escape, a young person's life. Besides which…" He sighed. "I know your father hasn't been very good to either of you." He was watching their hands again. "If there was something I could offer…" He trailed away.

Buffy looked at him. His eyes were tired, his hair on end. His face was so familiar she could see every detail in her mind and match it with the detail in front of her. Her eyes traced over every line, rested on every smooth plane. Her heart was thumping inside, rocking her. She untangled a hand from his and reach up to touch his cheek, feeling softness and sharpness. He looked at her, eyes unshielded for once, open and green.

"I need you," she repeated, at last. She wasn't sure what was happening, but whatever it was, it was more important than anything had been for as long as she could remember. He watched her steadily. She moved closer.

"Buffy," Giles said, moving back almost instinctively. She hushed him.

"You said you loved me," she said. "So kiss me."

He looked at her warily, his hands still closed around one of hers. She looked back as calmly as she could manage. Giles swallowed, and leant forward. His hand moved to rest on her hip.

His lips brushed against hers. Buffy moved closer, feeling her hair stand on end. She pulled his mouth closer, deepening the kiss. With a low noise in his throat, Giles wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap.

She was lost. She felt him let go, unleashing his feelings in a kiss that went straight through her, pulling her as close as he could. His warm tongue met hers, touching her tenderly, then passionately, lips hard against her mouth. She held his head with both hands, supporting him as he kissed her, his hands tight on her back. Then he slid his hand up her back to her neck and she was kissing him back as hard as she could, pulling him closer, moving around to pull him on top of her, her hands loose on his back and in his hair and on his face.

He pushed her down on the sofa, kissing her harder, arms wrapped around her back. His fingers found their way beneath her shirt and he pulled back, gasping for breath.

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered, rearranging himself so that he could stroke her hair, lying on top of her. Buffy gazed up at him in wonder.

"I don't know," she said, touching his mouth. Giles laughed raggedly.

"Not the most reassuring of answers," he said. Buffy smiled at him, then felt more serious.

"I don't know why… I wasn't planning to kiss you," she said. "I was just… I was just doing what felt right."

"Does this feel right?" he asked, his tone sending a deep shiver through her. Buffy nodded, smiling thoughtfully.

"More right than anything."

"It's not just… you're not just trying to keep me-"

She leant up and kissed him, tasting the soft skin of his lips, savouring the touch. When she rested her head back, his eyes were closed. He opened them.

"Thank you," he said. Buffy frowned.

"For what?"

Giles shook his head, smiling. "Everything."

She looked at him. Her heart was still thundering, but she felt calm, and… happy. His fingers stroking her hair sent shivers through her, shivers she couldn't have imagined, even that morning, but ones that felt better than anything she had experienced before.

"Can we stay like this forever?" she asked. Giles smiled, then looked down.

"Buffy…" he began. She frowned.

"What?"

"Xander told me, when I was here last time…" He took a breath. "He told me what Spike tried to do to you."

Buffy took her hand from his face. "Seems like there's no one Xander hasn't told," she said.

"I'll understand if you don't want to… I mean, I wouldn't want to rush you anyway, but you needn't worry about…" He was stuttering. Buffy bit her lip.

"Does it… are you mad that I slept with Spike?" she asked. Giles smiled at her.

"Buffy, I'm so in love with you I couldn't care if you had slept with Willy from the bar," he said. She smiled, his words sending a thundering rush through her chest. He leant down and kissed her. "Although after tonight, I think I might mind a bit," he added, between kisses. Buffy pulled him nearer, trying to communicate through his mouth how far any other man was from her mind. She let her legs slide out from beneath his, cradling him between them. He pulled his mouth away by a fraction.

"You didn't answer me," he said softly. "Did Spike hurt you?"

"The whole Spike thing is dead," Buffy said emphatically. "Literally. He's a no-brain who's not going to spoil the best night of my life. Of any of my lives," she corrected, then wondered if she had spoilt the effect slightly. Giles smiled.

"I promise, he won't get the chance to come near you again," he said, looking a little Ripperish. Buffy opened her mouth, then decided that it was something that could be settled much, much later.

"Come here," she said instead, and kissed him again.

She could feel his heart beating faster as they kissed, their hands moving more insistently, with more purpose. Somehow her shirt found its way to the floor, and she was gasping with surprise as Giles mouthed his way over her skin, his hands cherishing. <Giles, I'm about to have sex with Giles>, she thought, and almost giggled with relief. It made so much sense, she wondered why she hadn't seen it before. She ran her hand down his back, then suddenly wanted to feel the skin beneath. She pushed him up gently, following him, and stroked the soft material of his sweater.

"Upstairs?" she said softly. Giles looked at her for a moment, then smiled, shaking his head.

"I can hardly believe I'm not dreaming," he replied. Buffy laughed and stood up, picking up her shirt and taking his hand.

"Come on. I'll make all your dreams come true," she said.

"You already have," Giles replied as he followed her up the stairs.

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