Title: Just Another Slayer 2/2
Author: shelley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: In a post-“Chosen” world, there are lots of Slayers but just One Watcher in All the World. Buffy wants to make sure she stands out from the crowd.
Disclaimer: Buffy, Giles, and all their sundry acquaintances belong to Joss Whedon and the people at Mutant Enemy. I own naught but my computer and my imagination.
Notes: This was written for the Allthejellies B/G Angstathon.
Girlfromsouth requested a smutty story with a hopeful ending.
A huge debt of gratitude goes out to Taryn. She came back from her vacation in just the nick of time, to save my butt with the ending I needed. THANK YOU!!!
Buffy awoke to the sensation of being watched. Slayers were sensitive to hostile eyes, so the fact that her Spidey Sense was completely quiescent meant that those eyes could only belong to one person. She smiled lazily and murmured, “Morning, oh Watcher of mine.”
There was a slight pause, and Buffy opened her eyes in alarm. She found Giles propped on his elbow, studying her with an odd expression on his face. Her fear of “morning-after” rejection must have shown on her face, for he quickly bent down to give her a gentle kiss. “Good morning, Buffy. I trust you slept well?”
“Better than I have in years,” Buffy said expansively. “Watchers definitely make the best pillows, especially when they’re your own.”
Giles looked slightly uncomfortable, and Buffy wondered what she had said. Before she could ask, Giles said, “I meant to ask you last night, but got slightly… distracted.” Giles grinned, and Buffy smiled back shyly. “What happened with the Immortal?”
Buffy frowned for a moment, but then grinned wryly. “You know about the Buffy Birthday Curse? Well, take the eight previous birthdays and combine them, and you still can’t begin to get at how awful he made my twenty-fifth.”
A pained expression flitted across Giles’ face. “Your birthday. Damnit! I—“
“I understand,” Buffy lied quickly. She wasn’t over the fact that he had completely forgotten her birthday, and didn’t want that pain to overshadow her present happiness. Not this morning. “You probably had an Apocalypse to stop, or something mundane like that,” she said lightly. “Now that you remember who *your* Slayer is, I’m sure that won’t happen again.”
“Buffy, I—“ Giles shook his head in frustration, and Buffy wondered what he wasn’t saying. His face suddenly went blank, and Buffy received the uncomfortable impression that she had just said something to close him off. She wasn’t surprised when he muttered, “I have to get ready. Mrs. Grady will have my head if I’m late for my first appointment.”
Giles got up to take his shower, and Buffy got up to join him. “You stay there and sleep for a bit longer,” he told her. “I’ll be out quickly.” He then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Buffy stared at the closed door for a long time. “No morning smoochies then, I guess,” she muttered quietly to herself. Wondering what was going through Giles’ head, Buffy got up and began to get dressed.
~*~*~
Breakfast was a bit strained, but conversation began to flow again during the drive to Council Headquarters. By the time Giles parked his car, they were as comfortable with each other as they had been the previous night on Giles’ couch. True, they weren’t back to the same level of intimacy that they had enjoyed before going to sleep, but they also weren’t as awkward as they had been upon waking.
To Buffy’s delighted surprise, he kissed her in the elevator. His office was on the seventh floor, and the elevator was slow, so he was able to do a long, slow, thorough job of it before they reached their floor. She began to think that she had been oversensitive earlier; maybe Giles just wasn’t a morning person. She tested this theory by slipping an arm around his waist, and he draped an arm over her shoulders. It felt good. More than that, it felt *right*.
Struck by a sudden bit of mischief, Buffy began tickling him in the side. He let go of her and squirmed away, giggling like a small boy. Looking for strategic cover, he began backing around the corner… and collided with his secretary. The look on her face quickly sobered them both.
Mrs. Grady stared at Buffy. Her sharp eyes trailed the length of Buffy’s body, taking in her unwashed hair, her wrinkled shirt, the jeans she had worn the day before, and her non-sensible platform shoes. After she had examined Buffy from head to toe, Mrs. Grady switched her eyes back to Buffy’s face and sniffed in evident disapproval.
Trying to break the tension, Giles coughed uncomfortably. “Ah, good morning Mrs. Grady. I believe you met Ms. Summers yesterday?”
“Yes, I did,” the secretary said primly. “A most impatient young lady. Kept trying to jump ahead of others in your schedule, seemed to think that she had a special claim on your attention.”
Mortified, Buffy turned a bright red. Yes, she did think she had a special claim on Giles, he was *her* Watcher after all, but she was embarrassed to hear that assumption spoken aloud. It made her sound out of line, somehow.
Giles noticed Buffy’s discomfort, and gave her an encouraging smile. “Um, yes. About that… I apologize for not leaving instructions about Ms. Summers before. That was an oversight upon my part. For the future, Mrs. Grady, Buffy Summers is *always* to be ushered into my office, regardless of the schedule.”
Giles’ secretary sniffed scornfully. “Oh, so it’s like that, is it?”
“Like what?” Buffy demanded hotly.
Mrs. Grady ignored her, but Buffy suspected that the words directed at Giles were really aimed at her. “How was I supposed to know that she was another one of your little tarts? You keep rearranging your schedule based upon whichever Slayer is warming your sheets at any given moment, and nothing ever gets done!”
“Mrs. Grady,” Giles with deceptive mildness. Buffy knew him well enough to know that he was angry, but also slightly embarrassed. Buffy suspected that the charge had more merit than she would like. She scowled at the thought. “I have told you before to leave the question of my private affairs alone!”
“But they aren’t your private affairs, Mr. Giles,” she said with irritation. “There’s always another girl trying to get a bit more of your time by putting herself in your bed. And every time you permit one Slayer to do disrupt your schedule, another doesn’t get the guidance she needs. And I am the one who must—“
“Mrs. Grady!” Giles roared, all pretence at civility now gone. “That is *enough*. I am very aware that some Slayers try to sleep their way into undeserved commands, and that others develop an unhealthy attachment to me. I do not need another lecture on this matter from you, now or ever.” He took a deep breath, and then continued. “Moreover, in the future, you will show Ms. Summers a great deal more respect. She bore the weight of the world’s protection, alone and unaided, for too many years. She deserves more than your sneers and snide innuendoes.”
“Of course, Mr. Giles,” she said with sarcastic respect. “Whatever you say, sir.” She plopped down at her desk and began ostentatiously rifling through stacks of papers.
Even with her Slayer hearing, Buffy barely heard Giles mutter “Bloody cow,” under his breath. He stalked into his office, trusting Buffy to follow him, and closed the door firmly behind her.
“I am so sorry you had to deal with that dreadful woman,” Giles said sincerely.
“Yeah, I’m thinking Mrs. Grady isn’t going to make the first round of Christmas card recipients this year,” Buffy grumbled. “First she keeps me waiting for hours to see *my* Watcher, acting like all those newbies and Slayer-wannabes have just as much claim on you as I do, and then she acts like I seduced you just to get an earlier appointment time.”
Giles studied Buffy carefully, and she found herself squirming under the scrutiny. Finally, he asked, “Did you?”
“I didn’t need to,” Buffy joked. “I was already locked in as your first appointment for the day.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Giles said sternly. “And you know it. Did you kiss me last night to ensure that I would put you first the next time you found yourself needing my assistance?”
“I can’t believe you,” Buffy responded hotly. “I kissed you last night because you are a handsome, charming man, and I wanted to kiss you. End of story.”
Giles relaxed noticeably, and Buffy wondered whether he had been worrying about that all morning. “I must confess that I’m relieved to hear that,” he admitted.
“Besides,” Buffy added mischievously. “I don’t have to. You were my Watcher first, so that means that I always come first with you anyway.”
The tension was back, worse than before, and Buffy realized that that was the worst thing she could have said. Nevertheless, she was completely unprepared for his response. “I’m not your Watcher. Not any more.”
“What do you mean?” Buffy demanded angrily. “Of course you’re my Watcher. The Powers that Be gave you to me, and you’re *mine*! I mean, yeah, we don’t live in the same country and I have to take a plane to see you these days, but you’re still my Watcher.”
“No, I’m not,” Giles said quietly. “You fired me. Don’t you remember? You told me that I had nothing left to teach you.”
Buffy hissed in shock. She couldn’t believe he would bring that up, not after all this time. “I, I thought we were okay about that,” she said miserably.
“We are,” Giles said. He lifted up her face so that he could meet her gaze. “We *are*. As friends, we are. But as Watcher and Slayer?” He shrugged unhappily. “You never re-employed me. And then Willow did her spell, and there were so many Slayers, and they all, to a woman, needed me. They all had so much to learn, and were so anxious for me to teach them. They all wanted guidance.” A bitter look crept across his face. “You took away the last of my vocation, but all the new Slayers gave it back to me. I would say that you are the only Slayer in the world who *isn’t* mine.”
Buffy felt a rage building up inside her, somewhere too deep and primal for her to examine it. “You’re wrong, Giles. You’ll always be my Watcher. It doesn’t matter how far you run from me, you’ll always be mine.”
“So,” Giles summarized angrily. “I’m your property, is that it? Is that why you slept with me last night? So that you could restate your claim?”
Buffy stared at him incredulously. Did he really think that she would stoop so low? One look at his face assured her that yes, part of him believed that exactly. Her amorphous fury began to take shape and form. “What about you?” she demanded. “Why did you sleep with me?”
“You initiated it,” Giles answered nastily.
“True” she admitted. “But you didn’t exactly beat me off with a stick, now did you Giles? Mrs. Grady, the CoW’s cow, seemed to imply that you were sleeping with half the women on the Slayer payroll. Is that true?”
“I’m not a monk, Buffy,” Giles said simply.
Buffy goggled at him. “Are you saying that you are?”
“No,” Giles responded. “Despite Mrs. Grady’s accusation, I am quite aware of when someone is using sex to get what he or she wants. Or at least, I am when my personal feelings aren’t involved,” he added with open suspicion. “But what if I *were* fucking every Slayer in her late twenties or thirties, all 350 of them? How would that affect you in any way?”
“What?” Buffy asked incredulously.
“You haven’t been part of my life for a long time now,” Giles pointed out. “Not as my Slayer, and not as my friend. You have no right to comment on my sex life.”
Buffy stared at him in disbelief. “How about now, when I’m *part* of your sex life?”
“Especially now,” Giles asserted. “Since I have absolutely no idea why you inserted yourself into my sex life.” Buffy started to protest, but he overrode her. Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen you since our last meeting about Angel. That’s been what, a year and a half?” Giles’ eyes flashed with barely repressed anger. “And then you show up out of nowhere, expecting me to drop everything for you and seducing me when I di—“
“You bastard!” Buffy screamed. She picked up the first object that came to hand, a delicate vase that Dawn had given him on his fiftieth birthday, and threw it at him. He ducked, and the vase sailed over his head, shattering on the wall behind him.
Buffy stared at the broken vase for a moment, shocked that such a small object could break into so many pieces. It was almost as broken as her faith in Giles, or as his faith in her.
Giles was staring at the vase as well, and they both looked up at the same moment. Their gazes met, and both were filled with the horrified knowledge that they had gone too far, pushed too hard.
It was too much for Buffy. She grabbed her purse and ran out of the office. She heard Giles calling after her, but didn’t slow down until she was several blocks away from Council Headquarters. She jumped in the first cab to stop for her, and told the driver to take her to Heathrow Airport. If she couldn’t catch an earlier flight back to Rome she would just hang around the airport until her flight on the next day. She figured that Giles could mail her her suitcase.
~*~*~
It took Buffy several hours of fighting with airport officials to get an earlier flight, but she finally succeeded in getting aboard a puddle-jumper. She had two layovers on the way back to Rome, but she was oddly happy about them. As long as she could concentrate upon the hassles of the journey, she didn’t need to think about how she had left things with Giles. When she was on the plane, with nothing to do but sit, the confrontation loomed large in her mind.
She had to admit that he wasn’t entirely wrong in his accusations. Some part of her *had* found him more desirable now that he was no longer at her beck and call. And another part of her *had* been jealous to see him tending to so many other women. Those two factors may have led to her laying claim to him, as her Watcher and as her man, though Buffy honestly believed that there was a lot more going on as well. Where he was wrong, however, was in his assumption that she had acted consciously. She truly hadn’t realized what she was doing.
What was harder to admit was that they could have worked things out if she hadn’t run. She’d been right to leave, it was clear that they had both needed to stand back and take a breather, but she should have come back after they’d had a chance to cool down. Since there was no way they could ever settle this particular dispute over the phone, her decision to go back to Rome meant that the hurts they had inflicted upon each other would never get healed. This fight would end no differently than any of their others; it would be swept under the rug and would never be mentioned again.
Unfortunately, that meant that their night of passion would also become a taboo subject. That knowledge sickened Buffy, and she finally broke down in tears.
Far too many hours later, Buffy dragged herself home. She grunted at Dawn and then went to her room to collapse upon her bed. She only slept for a few hours before hunger woke her. Realizing that she hadn’t had anything to eat since that uncomfortable breakfast the day before, Buffy got up and went to the kitchen.
When she got there, she heard a beep from her answering machine. Too depressed to truly care, but vaguely curious all the same, Buffy hit play. The voice on the machine was so unexpected that it jolted her into full awareness.
// Hello, Buffy. I know that I am probably the last person on earth that you wish to speak to, but I don’t like where we left things. I’d like to come to Rome and see if we can come to some sort of resolution. // There was a pause, and then the sound of Giles sighing. // You were right, you know. I am your Watcher, first and last, and always will be. That is the most basic rock of my existence, and I need to just stop fighting it. Coming to see you is my first step in that direction. And if you don’t want to see me, at least I can drop off the bag that you left in my car. //
Buffy laughed with joy and relief, and then began crying for the same reasons. When she was all cried out, she called Giles on his cell-phone. From the background sounds, Buffy guessed that he was already in flight, and she was humbled by the knowledge that Mr. Dependability would do something so irresponsibly spontaneous just for her.
Buffy took a deep breath and said everything that needed to be said. “Hey, Giles. When does your flight get in? And is it okay if I don’t get down any sheets for the guest bedroom?”
THE END