Title: Talking Head 2/2
Author: Saint Buffy
Feedback: is like a flower to a bee
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue
Giles filled out an order form for more crossbow bolts, trying to block the sound of Anya's continuing tirade. She seemed to be picking up force like a boulder rolling down a mountain.
"… so I didn't really know what to do. It was the height of his passion, not mine, how was I supposed to act? And I wasn't expecting him to go and do it right in my-"
"Good God, Anya, look at that… customer," Giles interrupted desperately. "I think they need help."
"Really?" Anya said brightly. She fixed the unsuspecting person with a look and began to descend as Willow and Tara wilted in relief.
"I know far, far too much," Willow groaned. Giles flushed.
"Unfortunately I suspect you're not talking about the demon," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment.
"Nothing new there," Tara admitted.
"Oh, but we thought of something," Willow said. "That knife you were looking for? Could it be the one Buffy embedded in the wall of the training room after Dawn ruined her jacket?"
"Oh, yes," Giles said, smiling to thank them. He turned back to the training room, watching Anya unwittingly chase the customer out of the shop as he went. Spending day after day with the ex-demon left him with an all too clear image of her love life, he reflected. It wasn't the first time he had heard her bemoan the strangeness of oral techniques in her millennium-old mind. He had even found himself advising her on certain things, as time wore on; first with great reluctance and embarrassment, and later with a growing sense of familiarity. He pushed the training room door open again. Buffy turned to him.
"What do you think, Giles? Should I spit?"
"I think you should discuss that with Riley," he said, automatically, his mind still on Anya's behaviour. Then he caught up with himself and blushed a violent red.
"Giles!" Buffy yelped, thrown off her punch.
"Sorry," he said.
"Ye Gods," Xander added, rubbing his arms. Buffy shuddered.
"…*So* not what I was talking about."
"I'm sorry," he said again. He waved a hand towards the main room, still bright red. "Anya was talking…"
"Anya?" Xander said. He paled and swallowed. "Oh God." Without even stopping to remove his pads, Xander pushed past Giles and out after his girlfriend.
"I was talking about the demon," Buffy said, not making terribly much sense to Giles.
"Of course," he said.
"What do you mean, anyway? I should discuss it with Riley," Buffy said, evidently not wanting to let Giles off the hook. He sighed, catching sight of the knife buried in the training room wall.
"Nothing." He went over, reaching up to try to tug it out, keeping his embarrassed eyes firmly on the knife. "I meant that if you have a question about that… arena, surely Riley is the person with whom you should raise that question."
He felt her attention slide away from his back and heard the rip of velcro as she tore off her pads. "Yeah," she said in a low voice. Giles frowned, wrenching the knife out with a last pull. He turned back to her.
"Is everything all right?" he asked. Buffy looked up at him.
"Riley isn't really… he always changes the subject when I bring up… that stuff," she said, reluctantly. Giles swallowed. He looked down at the knife, then back up, realising that for Buffy to have admitted that to him showed that it was a true concern of hers. He pushed back his own reluctance.
"But you have things you want to discuss with him?" he asked. Buffy sat down on the arm of the training room sofa.
"Yeah," she said. Giles looked back down at the knife.
"I see," he said, hoping his voice would encourage her to say more.
"Like…" It had. "I've never, you know, given him…" She made a graphic gesture that made Giles swallow hard. "Like Anya with Xander."
"Oh?" Giles said, his voice a little hoarse.
"I didn't know what he would like and then every time I try to bring it up, Riley just shies away from the subject." She was picking up speed now, opening up. Giles went to sit next to her.
"It isn't an easy subject, for some," he said, with a self- deprecating smile. Buffy looked down at him.
"Yeah, right, I remember the candy night," she said with a teasing smile. "Mr Stevedore."
"Buffy, please," Giles said.
"You still haven't told me what that means," Buffy added reflectively. She looked down at him again.
"What do you like a girl to do?" she asked suddenly. Giles felt strangled, a rush of blood suddenly flooding south.
"I hardly think that's an appropriate question-" he began, but Buffy waved a hand.
"Oh, come on. I remember Olivia. And Mom. I know you're not the guy you pretend to be around us," she said. Giles looked up at her, surprised. She smiled. "Or the guy I sometimes say you are," she added. He held her gaze for a long moment, then smiled, accepting her unspoken apology.
"As long as they're not overcome with disgust, I find that come the, er, time, I am usually too preoccupied to notice how the product is disposed," he answered. Buffy still held his eyes.
"Thank you," she said. Giles looked away.
"But I really feel that if this is bothering you, you should raise it with Riley," he repeated. "Even if it does seem awkward."
"I suppose," Buffy said. She picked up a marker pen lying on the sofa and began to fiddle with it absently, her gaze stretching across the training room. "You know what I realised this evening?" she said suddenly.
Giles dragged his gaze up to her face. Her hands were still playing with the pen, stroking it, toying it in a way he found extremely disturbing.
"What?"
"Riley isn't one of the gang," she said sadly. "One of us."
Giles thought carefully before he said anything. "Riley… is a very useful part of the team," he said. Buffy gave him a look. Her thumb slid up to rub over the head of the pen… or rather, the lid. Giles wrenched his gaze away again and crossed his legs.
"Giles," Buffy said softly. "If Riley was part of the team he would be here right now."
He couldn't answer that. Particularly as her soft thumb was still working over the lid of that damned marker.
Giles felt his gaze drag back down to her lap, and to his horror Buffy's eyes followed his. Her eyes widened; in a second she saw what he saw. Giles leapt up.
"I really must-" he began, striding away, careful to keep his back between Buffy and the demanding presence in his trousers. Buffy stood behind him.
"Giles?" she said. He heard the pen drop to the floor. "Look at me." Her voice was so commanding, and even if it had been otherwise, how could he not obey?
He turned, hoping his sweater would conceal his state. The look on her face told him it didn't. He watched her eyes widen in shock and then turned away again, humiliated.
"Giles," Buffy said again. Her voice was a caress. He heard her step towards him, and then a small hand touched his back. "What's a stevedore?"
Buffy could feel him trembling slightly beneath her hand, and for a moment, beneath the raging storm that was going on between her thighs, beneath the pounding of her heart and the part of her mind that was screaming `what are you doing!' beneath all that she felt a surge of maternal warmth for the man in front of her. It calmed her, and muffled that voice of indecision.
After what was an eternity he finally turned back to her. Buffy smiled up at him uncontrollably. He looked shocked. His hand reached up and touched her face in the lightest of trembling touches.
It took her mind a second to catch up with the fact that they were kissing. Their mouths had come together of their own accord, meeting, searching, desperate and longing. She curled a hand around his head and Giles lifted her up slightly, his hand cupping the back of her head, bringing her close. Her whole body heated with a blush of desire, their mouths combining effortlessly, his tongue a sudden hot presence against hers. She couldn't feel her legs. He cradled her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist, his hot body against hers. Buffy raked a hand through his hair, stroking, teasing, loving the feel of him.
"Lock the door," Buffy gasped as they broke apart. Giles looked down at her, a stunned grin on his face.
"Are you sure-"
"Lock it," Buffy said, but then prevented him from doing so as she reached up to kiss him again. His mouth was hot and yielding against hers, kissing her with a greater skill than she had ever known. The lock on the training room door clicked without Buffy noticing that they had stumbled over there. She pushed him away slightly.
"Over there," she said, her voice sounding husky and strange. She pushed him forward, walking them both towards the couch. Giles's eyes were bright, staring down into hers. "Sit down," she added.
"Oh, God," he said, grabbing her hands as he sat. His hands were warm, trembling slightly.
Buffy knelt down in front of him, holding his gaze until the last moment. Letting go of his hands, she ran hers up his strong thighs and shivered, feeling the aching hot wetness of her core as she knelt. She strayed one finger over the tight heat of his crotch and heard him suck in a breath.
Her fingers fumbled over his belt and zipper. He lifted his hips silently, one hand straying out to touch her hair.
"Buffy," he said, voice hoarse. Buffy slid his pants down and stripped them off.
His legs were almost enough to make her come on the spot. She ran her hands up them again, over his knees, fingers hesitating over a few stray scars on their way up. His boxers were dark blue, plain, the thin material barely containing the obvious heat within. She pulled them off and leant forward.
The clothes hid more than she imagined. He was big, thick, an urgent strike that sent an echo right inside her as if he was there already. She closed her eyes and took his head in her mouth.
His hands moved automatically to the back of her head, her shoulder, tense but steady. She heard each shaky breath pass through him and stroked his thigh tenderly, her tongue absorbed in his taste. She moved back slightly to run her tongue down the top of his shaft, as slowly as she dared.
"Oh, dear God," he choked, and Buffy smiled wickedly, repeating the act. Shifting slightly, she worked her way around him, slowly at first then faster. She cupped him with one hand, kissing her way up from the base to his tip, then taking his head back in her mouth, sliding as far down as she could take. Her hand circled around the rest of him, moving up and down, determined not to leave anything out. His hand tightened in her hair and Buffy pressed his hips down again as he bucked. She let her tongue rub over him, round his shaft, sucking gently and then harder as his breath came more desperately.
"Buffy…" he said again, urgently, his hips thrusting against her. She slid one hand up over his chest, still covered in his shirt, and worked her tongue harder until suddenly her mouth filled and she heard him desperately trying to muffle the sounds of his pleasure.
"So, ah, how did you…?" Giles asked, when he had regained the power of speech. Buffy looked down at him, straddling his hips, fire lacing through her whenever they shifted position. She leant down and whispered in his ear, then trailed a line of kisses from one ear over his jaw to the other to whisper something else.
"Well, if you insist," Giles replied, making her squeal as he stood up, carrying her easily on his hips. He carried her over to a pile of training mats on the floor and stood over them for a moment. "Not the most romantic of locations," he said apologetically.
Buffy shook her head, stroking fingers through his hair. "It's ours," she said. Their eyes met for a long moment, his searching deeply, before Giles bent his head to kiss her and slowly lowered them both to the mat.
"What about that demon?" Giles said as he lifted her shirt off. Buffy smiled.
"The demon can wait. I sure as hell can't."
Giles smiled, then lowered his head to kiss her, his mouth moving imaginatively over her breasts and stomach.
"What about the weapons check?" Buffy said with a grin.
"Hm," Giles said. Her pants were suddenly around her knees, then tossed over to a growing pile of their clothes. "I think that can wait, too."
Buffy closed her eyes as his mouth moved lower, brushing over her core in light touches. Her hips rose off the ground and Giles slid his hands beneath her bottom. Suddenly she opened her eyes again.
"Giles," she said, more seriously. He looked up, hair a mess, eyes dark with desire. She looked down at him. "Every month you do that check… making sure all the weapons are in good condition, finding all the lost ones…" She couldn't quite phrase the question she was trying to say. He heard it anyway.
"Because when I watch you fight I can do nothing," he said. He moved back up towards her mouth and planted a soft kiss. "When you leave to patrol I can do nothing."
"But you can make sure I'm prepared," she said, running her fingers over a face she had always loved. He nodded.
"I can't keep you safe forever, but I can ensure that you won't… be disappointed by some foolish, weak weapon," he said. "I swear it."
Buffy smiled up at him. "I love you too, Giles," she said, and he blushed, then kissed her again, hands straying, starting to make love in earnest.
END