Title: Fluking 3/4
Author: Saint Buffy
Feedback: gives me a happy.
Disclaimer: I assert no claim to the characters, stories or concept of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Buffy was woken not by a sound or movement, but by a sudden swelling inside her which seemed to want to force up her insides and throw them out. She curled up slightly, eyes tightly shut, fighting the urge to be sick. Her head added its complaints to those of her stomach, she could feel a fierce red mark running across her throat and collarbone, and seconds later, a dull ache between her legs provided the final cadence in her symphony of discomfort. She let out a tiny moan.

Her senses slowly uncurled from the demands of her body as she became aware of a leg thrown over hers, a long limb ending in rough hair and groin pressed into her backside, and a hand rested lightly on her hip.

Her eyes flew open. Either she had experienced the most vivid erotic dream about her watcher to date, or Riley was not the man in the bed with her. It was morning, and the light made the groan in her head upscale to a roar. She shut her eyes again hurriedly and pulled the covers up to dull the fierce light.

Neither the leg nor any other part of the warm nakedness behind her seemed to be stirring. Buffy's mind raced ahead, trying to process the events of the previous night before he woke. Last night, she hadn't the sobriety to question her watcher's apparent prowess, but as she ran her mind over the events, two words kept returning to her mind... *four times*. It had been different, the last time, she thought. The first three times had been about satisfying the sudden overwhelming hunger they had been feeling. The last time was about… he had made love to her, Buffy realised with something that felt closer to panic than anything else.

If she wasn't feeling so crappy, she thought, this whole situation would be a lot easier to handle. Slayer hangovers didn't last long, but they seemed to make up with discomfort for what they lacked in duration. She swallowed back another wave of nausea and shuffled round slightly in the bed.

Giles's head was half-buried in the pillow. His eyes were underscored with dark circles, and his hair looked strange- not sexy bed hair, just bed hair. His mouth was hanging slightly open. Buffy regarded him out of half-closed, heavy eyes. He didn't look the best she'd ever seen him, but somehow, that did even worse things to her insides than if he had looked amazing. Her head thundered as she lifted it slightly to move closer, twisting further round so she was lying on her side, facing him, fascinated with his face.

< I've got to get out of here, > she thought desperately. If he woke with her still here he might… try something, and Buffy didn't know if she would be able to refuse. And anyway if he woke he would want to talk, and Buffy only had questions in her head, questions with no answers.

She slowly slid her legs out from under his, watching for any change in his face which might indicate that he was waking up. He gave none. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Buffy rolled away and carefully climbed out of bed.

For a moment the whole world rocked as her insides made another bid for freedom. She sat on the edge of the bed, arms propping her up on either side, and cast wildly around her to see a waste paper bin in one corner of the room, thinking that if need be she could throw up in that. As usual, just the thought of having a contingency plan to cover her being sick, was enough to combat the feeling. After a moment, she levered herself to her feet again.

The best thing to do was to get out of the house as soon as possible, before he woke up with questions she couldn't answer. Buffy lurched towards the stairs, then paused, turned, and looked back towards the bed.

He lay with his face away from her, unchanged. The sun sprawled over his chest, showing off his firm muscles and revealing the urgent red marks she had left from their lovemaking. Buffy stared at him for a moment, her body remembering the infinite satisfaction of his, and then turned and stumbled hurriedly down the stairs.

Her clothes were everywhere, spread across the living room floor. She dressed as she discovered things, pulling them on roughly, then headed for the door.

Outside, the sunshine and early heat made her head pound, seeming to throw itself against her skull. Buffy stopped for a moment, eyes closed, leaning on the door, before she pushed herself forward and towards home.

It was still fairly early, she reasoned, judging by the lack of people on the streets. She would head home as quickly as possible for a shower and more sleep, and then everything would be better. She would have an answer. She could face Riley and her friends, and God, even him.

Her body and mind were a mass of contradictions. Her head pounded, and her limbs felt heavy and stiff, and yet the slight movement of a breeze through her hair or the touch of one part of her body brushing against another was enough to send reminiscent shudders through her, enough to preserve the effect of Giles's touch. The satisfaction of the hunger she had felt for him made her feel as if she had slept for a week, and yet the image of him in his bed, which seemed to burn in her mind, made her want to go back, wake him and make love to him again. She felt horrified, embarrassed, and yet more loved, more complete than she had ever felt before.

Her home appeared before she had a chance to resolve the conflicting feelings she nursed. Various reasons for her night-long absence flickered through her mind as she approached, and she fervently hoped she could make it up to her room before anyone saw her.

"Buffy!" A cheerful voice called from behind her. She turned, with a sinking heart. It was Riley, and there was no way she could avoid talking to him. "I was just coming to see if you were awake, although I wasn't really expecting to see you up so…" he trailed off, taking in her as-yet-unchanged party outfit. "Why are you…" he asked uncertainly, stopping a few feet away. Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, trying hopelessly to hide her appearance.

"I, er…"

"You stayed out all night?" he asked. Buffy turned away from him, trying desperately to gather her thoughts. She heard Riley take a lurching step towards her, and he grabbed her shoulders roughly. "What's this mark?" he asked, voice harsh with suspicion. Buffy's mind was blank for a moment, before it supplied a memory of Giles biting her shoulder hard from behind.

"Riley," she said, pulling out of his grasp, unable to meet his eyes.

"Please, tell me it's not what I think it is," Riley asked, his voice pleading. Buffy dragged her gaze up to meet his; the effort felt monumental.

"It is," she whispered. He looked away. "I'm sorry."

"You betrayed me?" he said, his voice full of disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Riley, it just…" Buffy couldn't bring herself to complete the cliché. "I never meant to hurt you."

He was backing away from her, running a hand through his hair.

"Who was it?" he asked, not sounding like he wanted to know. Buffy knew she owed him the truth, and steeled herself.

"It was Giles," she said. "I think I'm in love with him," she added, only realising the truth of what she said as she spoke. She frowned to herself, but Riley interrupted, turning away.

"This is…" he began. "I gotta get out of here."

She watched as he strode back down the road.

She had betrayed him. With Giles. Four times. And while the alcoholic theme of the evening had certainly contributed to it, she couldn't say it was the only reason. She had looked at Riley, and she had looked at Giles, and she had discovered which one of them she wanted.

Buffy stood in the sidewalk by her house, beginning to feel guilty, not as much for her behaviour towards Riley, but for her treatment of Giles. She should have stayed to be there when he woke- she knew what it was like to wake up alone. Of all things she could have done…

She wheeled herself around and headed into the house, determined to shower and change as quickly as she could, and run back to the man she loved.

Giles heard a knock on the door just as he stepped towards the bathroom. He hesitated, measuring the embarrassment of opening the door when he was dressed only in a robe, against the possibility of it being Buffy.

Slim chance, he thought. He had felt the familiar weight of disappointment falling across him when he awoke to find his bed as empty as always, the proof that the previous night had really happened, evident only in his spent body. He lay back in bed, remembering the feel of his slayer's body against his, under his, around his. Remembering her scent and the delicious freedom of her orgasms. She had unleashed in him something kept well hidden since his youth; his passion, he supposed. He hadn't had much use for that side of him since becoming a watcher, but she… she gave him reason for that passion. In her body he had found a safe home for all the raging, consuming fire within. Giles had never experienced anything like it before. And he had never imagined experiencing it with Buffy.

Granted, he knew she was an attractive woman- he was no fool, and he had eyes, for God's sake. He knew her perhaps better than he should, seeing the misplaced love she felt for young Riley- or at least, the love she thought she felt. He knew that the ex-soldier was not the one, not the other half of Buffy's life she had always seemed to crave. Only then, as Giles lay across his bed with the violent sunlight spilling over his sheets, did he begin to wonder if he himself was the one.

Evidently not, he thought, stretching out a hand to caress absently the sheets where she must have lain. Evidently not, or she would have still been there, lying bare in his bed, body still marked with his. Perhaps pulling him close to make love again in this harsh light, their bodies exposed, growing familiar. With a growl the watcher had pushed himself to his feet, thanking the training in hangover resistance he had received through his youth. Pulling on his robe, he had stumbled downstairs, towards the shower.

The knock sounded again, and he was startled into action, stepping towards the door, committed before he could think about it. He opened the door, still hoping for Buffy.

It was Riley.

He was half-prepared for the fist that came towards him, and managed to knock it aside with one hand.

"How could you," Riley hissed, stepping into the flat, bearing down on Giles. "Bastard!"

Giles held his ground.

"I am sorry for my behaviour," he said honestly, mind racing ahead as he spoke. If Riley knew, Buffy must have told him. If Buffy had told him, it could mean she wanted to break up with him.

"She *must* have been drunk to go with you," Riley continued, still trying to get into Giles's face. "How could you take advantage of her like that?"

Giles glared, the full Ripper glare, making Riley take an inadvertent step back.

"I did no such thing," he replied hotly. "Buffy was more than willing, I assure you. Now I am sorry, but-"

"Willing?" Riley snorted humourlessly. "Did you drug her?"

Giles forced himself by sheer willpower not to hit the younger man as Riley continued. "Cos we both know she would never-"

He was cut off by Giles's fist resounding with a crack on to his jawbone. Riley reeled back.

"How dare you," Giles said, furiously. "How dare you suggest I would force myself on her, you ignorant little fuck." He took a deep breath to stop himself from hitting Riley again. "Any fool could see you weren't the man for her. Hell, you're hardly even a man." He looked contemptuously down at him. "I could feel how little satisfaction she had been given. You couldn't even do that for her."

Riley straightened, and for a moment the two men stared each other out. Giles won.

"This isn't the end," Riley said, glaring at Giles one more time as he pushed his way to the door.

Giles stared after him for a moment, kicking himself. Of all the ways he could have made this situation worse, punching Riley was the possibly the best. Buffy would be furious when she found out. She would hate him, if she didn't already.

With a start, Giles hurried towards the bathroom. He needed to get out of his house as quickly as possible, and go into hiding, or at least into the safety of the Magic Box, where there would be other people around, until he could the think the situation through.

"Giles?" Buffy called through the door, pushing it again. It was clearly locked. "Giles, it's me."

If he was in, he wasn't answering. She briefly considered knocking the door down to see if he was inside, but decided it wasn't a slayer strength moment and knocked again. "Giles!"

He wasn't there. Buffy stepped away, running a hand through her hair. God, she was so stupid, running off like that when she woke up… he probably never wanted to see her again. He probably thought she had just used him. He probably hated her.

She turned with a flourish and headed towards the Magic Box, wishing that she drove. It wasn't far, but in her panicked state, every step seemed to take half an hour. She broke out into a jog as she approached, desperate to find out if he was there.

The bell crashed rather than rang as she entered; she burst in, out of breath. Willow and Tara, sitting at the tarot table, leapt to their feet.

"Buffy, what is it?" Willow asked. Anya appeared from the other part of the shop; no one else was to be seen.

"Bad guys?" Tara asked, dropping the book she was looking at. All three of them looked to be gearing up for a fight.

"Where's Giles?" Buffy asked. The Scoobies relaxed.

"He's in the back," Anya replied, as Giles entered. Buffy felt herself blush.

"Oh," she said, transfixed by the sight in front of her.

Giles looked up, saw his slayer, and dropped the book he was carrying. Anya jumped.

"Watch out, that's merchandise," she complained, moving to snatch the book from the ground. Buffy watched as Giles shook himself, tearing his eyes away from hers.

"Sorry," he said. He looked back towards Buffy, unable to quite meet her gaze this time. "Hello Buffy," he said, blushing a deep red that sent answering heat straight between her legs.

"Hey," Buffy replied, trying to act normally. She almost sat down at the table, before she felt the weight of Willow and Tara watching her and remembered her urgent entrance into the shop. She would have to talk to him straight away.

Before she could open her mouth, the shop bell rang and Xander entered.

"Hello all," he said cheerfully, heading towards the back to greet his girlfriend. On the way past he noticed Buffy, and stopped. "Hey Buffy, I was hoping you'd be here."

"Oh?" Buffy said, perching herself on the edge of the tarot table nervously. Xander continued, seemingly oblivious.

"Yeah. Bumped into Riley," he said, and Buffy's heart leapt out of her chest cavity. She heard a thump in the background and looked to see that Giles had walked into the edge of the shop counter and was now rubbing his knee and swearing under his breath. Buffy turned back to Xander, struggling to keep her face smooth.

"Really?" she croaked. Xander nodded.

"Uh huh. He was sporting a nice new lump on his jaw… didn't seem to want to talk about it."

"What?" Buffy said, struggling to add this into the confused landscape of the day's events.

"Yeah, nasty looking. He said it wasn't demon related, but…" Xander glanced around the room, then shuffled closer to Buffy to talk to her more privately. Willow and Tara both tried to look occupied. "He seemed really beat up about something, and I'm not just talking face rearrangement."

"Oh," Buffy said again, and glanced towards Giles. He stared down at a greeting card, seemingly transfixed by the message of birthday cheer. "Uh, Giles, could I see you a minute?" she called. He looked up with an expression familiar to small animals caught in the path of oncoming traffic. "Please?"

She headed towards the back room before either of them could back out.

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