TITLE: WARLOCK 1/14
AUTHOR: vatwoman
RATING: ‘NC 17’
PAIRING: GILES/JENNY
DISCLAIMER: JOSS WHEDON, MUTANT ENEMY AND FOX/UPN OWN EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE ‘BUFFY.’ NO INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. THE CHARACTER OF KOVACS IS MINE.
SUMMARY: STORY’S SET IN SEASON TWO, AFTER ‘TED’ AND BEFORE ‘SURPRISE/INNOCENCE.’ THERE’S NEW TEACHER IN TOWN AND HE WANTS JENNY, BUT IS HE QUITE WHAT HE SEEMS? MAGIC, SEX AND ANGST ENSUE. (I’VE DELIBERATELY MADE WILLOW’S INTEREST IN MAGIC HAPPEN EARLIER IN THIS STORY THAN IT DOES IN THE SHOW – CALL IT ARTISITIC LICENCE!)
FEEDBACK: YES PLEASE, TO VATWOMAN@Y...
DISTRIBUTION: TO VARIOUS ‘YAHOO!’ GROUPS. IF ANYONE ELSE WANTS IT, PLEASE ASK FIRST AND YE SHALL RECEIVE.

“What's the sitch?" asked Xander as he barrelled into the library. "Ooh, research!" He headed for Buffy, Willow and Cordelia who were all sitting at one end of the long table, noses pressed into books. "And what is the Hellmouth serving up as today's dish-of-the-day? Vampires? No wait, that was yesterday. Devils? Ghouls?" He advanced a step with each suggestion. "Witches? Fiends?" He reached the table and tipped up Buffy's book to peer at the title. "Math?" Then Cordy's. "History?" Willow held up her own book to her friend. "English? Hey, what is this?"

"This is a school library, Xander." Giles offered from his seat at the other end of the table. "Where people read," he gestured to the book in his hand, "And students study."

"Maybe in some alternate universe library," Xander objected, "But this is the Hellmouth, 'center of mystical convergence', yadda, yadda, yadda."

"What can we say," Buffy responded, smiling, "It's a slow week."

"For which I am deeply grateful." Giles said forcefully.

"Me too." Buffy agreed, transferring her smile to her Watcher.

"Come on, Xander," Willow pulled out the chair next to her, "We can do the 'English thing' together."

"Yeah," Cordelia threw in from her seat opposite Willow, "Because sooner or later you'll have to learn to do more than just write your name."

Xander bristled and glared at Cordelia but she, too, was deep into her book and hadn't even bothered to look up: which hurt him more than the comment she'd made. He walked around the table, settled next to Willow and reluctantly dragged out his English textbook, a notepad and pencil.

"And to think I had news." He spoke in a half-tone just audible to everyone. "But, hey, don't let me break up this happy study-fest!" Nobody reacted. Xander tapped his pencil on his book and sighed theatrically.

"Ok," Buffy bit, "What news?"

Xander smiled to himself and leaned across to check the page assignment with Willow. "This? Right?"

Willow nodded, grinned and sat back. "Come on, Xander, tell us."

"It'll be boring." Cordelia challenged. "If there'd been any interesting news, I'd have heard it by now."

"Nope," Xander contradicted, "Not when this news is only five minutes old and I'm guessing you've been here for ... " He leaned back in his seat so that he could see the clock by the library doors, " ... at least ten."

"Now I'm interested." said Buffy. "Deal."

Like the showman that he was, Xander tossed his pencil aside, sat back and clasped his hands behind his head, milking the moment for all it was worth. The rumbled, "Xander" came from an unexpected source: Giles. Xander looked down the table at the older man and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Do tell." Giles requested in his mildest tone of voice and then raised his book. "Please?"

'And let me get back to my reading.' Xander caught the look that Giles frowned out from behind his glasses.

"Ok, copper, I'll cough!" It was almost passable: as far as appalling-pretend-English accents went. Giles's sigh was long and very, very, deep. Xander grinned and got on with it. "Mr Kovacs, the exchange chem. teacher?"

As one the girls nodded.

"He's a hottie!"

"Laser-beam blue eyes!"

"He's a babe!"

"So I'm figurin' you guys know who I'm talking about." Xander nodded, "Well ... "

"Wait a moment." Giles interrupted and found four sets of eyes on him. "I ... ah ... I have a question."

"Already?" Xander puzzled, "But I haven't told you anything yet!" Then his brow cleared. "Giles, man, you've got to get out more; the guy's been here for ... what ... two weeks?"

He looked to the others to confirm his thinking and received nods from all three heads.

"No ... " Giles shook his head, "No ... not about ... I know who he is."

"So what's the question, Giles?" Buffy's soft voice drifted down the table.

"How ... " Giles took a deep breath and tried again. "How can a man be a ... a 'babe'?" Four sets of eyes again: the 'duh!' was written across all four faces. "Sorry I asked." Giles muttered and gestured Xander on with, "Apologies for interrupting your riveting discourse."

"It's a generational thing." Willow explained, nodding sagely, before throwing a pitying glance at the oldest member of the self-styled Scooby Gang.

"Or maybe a transatlantic thing?" Cordelia further expanded.

Buffy shrugged, "Whatever."

"Mr Kovacs?" Xander threw in, pulling them back on track. "Well this 'babe' is out there making 'the move' on ... " He turned towards Giles, " ... your babe."

"Ooh! Bad man!"

"My babe?"

Buffy and Giles spoke simultaneously; Buffy recovered first.

"Giles: Ms Calendar? You're an item again - remember? I mean, we saw you ki ... "

"Kidding around!" Willow barged across Buffy's words, eyes wide. Would Giles really want to know that they'd all seen he and Jenny Calendar locking lips in the library?

"Chewing the fat!" Xander added hurriedly. "And you took her out Saturday night. Didn't you?"

It was now Cordelia's turn to give an exaggerated sigh.

"So Ms Calendar and Mr Kovacs are in her lab talking - only a boy, whose thoughts are so far below his belt-buckle that they'd need a miner to find them, would see making 'the move' in that!"

"They're not in her lab." Xander dropped his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper.

"The Faculty Room?" Willow suggested.

"No!"

"They're not ... " Buffy stopped for a moment before continuing in a voice a quiet as Xander's had been. " ... in the hall?"

"Give the girl a coconut!" Xander sat back in his chair, his triumph complete, and basked in the glory of knowing that this really was news. Even Cordelia looked impressed.

"You saw them?"

"Passed them on my way here."

"And he was making 'the move' on her?"

If anyone knew about boys making moves on girls in hallways it would be Cordelia: Cordelia who had spurned the advances of probably half the boys in school.

"Yeah, he's got the 'arm-on-the-wall-deep-look-into-the-eyes-leaning-in' thing going on." The girls nodded again. Xander turned again to Giles. "Giles, I think your duty is clear."

Still looking faintly bemused, Giles finally got another word in edge-wise.

"'Duty'?"

"This is alpha-male stuff! She's your woman - go rip his lungs out!"

Giles blinked in incomprehension, but it was Cordelia who responded.

"And she's defenceless?" she sounded angry.

"No, not defenceless ... " Xander blustered, hating to be caught on the receiving end of Cordy's tongue. <Well, ok, that's not true all the time,> he thought, <It depends on what the tongue is doing.>

"She can't say 'no' to a guy and mean it?" Now Cordelia sounded really angry.

"Yeah," Willow weighed in, "Like she's some 'simpering little girlie-girl' that you men all seem to want in your fantasy worlds!" Her face straightened into resolve. "Ms Calendar can take care of herself!"

"You want me to rip his lungs out?" asked Giles, proving a theory of Slayer and Slayerettes that when it came to Jenny Calendar, Rupert Giles was always at least half a dozen steps behind the action - even when that action involved him. "Because he's talking to her?"

"'The move', Giles," Xander rolled his eyes, "He's making 'the move'!"

"And I should be feeling threatened - is that what you're saying?"

"Duh - yes!"

"Why should I be feeling threatened?"

"Didn't we just drive by this roadsign?" Xander looked to Buffy, Willow and Cordelia. "Just pitch in here, guys, all support will be gratefully received."

"Nope," said Buffy shaking her head, a slight smile playing around her lips, "Thought we'd made things clear: this one's all yours!"

That got her the Xander glare: her smile widened. Xander threw in the towel.

"Alright, I've said something wrong?"

"Let me count the ways." Buffy's droll tones, so like her Watcher's, drew an appreciative and satisfied smile from the man himself. "You've accused a man you don't know of being a big enough rat to make a move on another man's girlfriend."

Xander groaned; he had to ask and now here was the list. He swung his head from Buffy to Giles.

"You've insulted Ms Calendar by suggesting that I shouldn't trust her."

"You've insulted Giles by suggesting that he shouldn't feel secure in his relationship."

Giles looked mildly surprised by the source of this insight. "Thank you, Cordelia."

"You're welcome." The voice was pleasant enough but the glare was still focused on Xander

"And you've insulted Ms Calendar by suggesting she can't handle herself if he is coming on to her." Buffy finished.

"So you're not going to rip his lungs out?" Xander asked of Giles to accompanying groans and thuds of foreheads meeting table-top.

There was a small pause and then. "No, Xander, I'm not. I am, however, going to ask Jenny to join me for lunch."

With that Giles stood, pushed his hands into his trouser pockets and strolled out, whistling quietly as he went.

There was a long silence, punctuated by the doors banging shut behind him.

"Do you think Mr Kovacs will know what's hit him?" Xander wondered.

"Dunno," Buffy replied, "Maybe when he wakes up?"

Four heads nodded in unison and slowly turned back to their books.

***************************

<He looks good> Her whole body tingled - actually it had been tingling for days. <Since Saturday> She smiled: the Saturday she'd promised him, them, before Eyghon had come and thrown their lives into such terrible turmoil. So on Saturday she'd made him squirm and they'd laughed together and cried a little and loved each other with a passion she hadn't believed possible.

Sunday morning had begun and ended with her astride him, her body arched into the sunlight streaming in through his bedroom window. She'd spread her arms wide and thrown back her head, mouth open in soundless ecstasy. She'd felt his arms stretched up her back, palms on her shoulder blades, muscles bunched, stopping her from falling; but she'd felt the fall, felt it as if she'd tumbled from a great height and ... oh God ... the wonder of it. His arms holding her, his mouth on her breasts and his body emptying into hers: these had been her anchors, the certainties that had allowed her to just let go. With the ripples of her orgasm still making her body shudder she'd pushed her hands into his sweat-curled hair and pulled his head back so she could look into his eyes - and saw herself there, held in his gaze, held in his heart.

Perhaps that was what had made her run? 'I have to go,' she'd said and had pushed him away, got up off the bed, dressed and had gone. She'd felt his eyes on her the whole way to the door. She'd made it home and into her own bed and had lain there for the rest of the day, completely shocked by what had happened - what she'd felt. She'd known that he had come to mean a great deal to her but in that searing look she'd seen the truth of it: her love for him reflected in his eyes.

<Can I love this man?> she wondered as he continued towards her. She was subliminally aware that the man by her side had stopped talking and had turned in the direction of her gaze, but she only had eyes for Giles. <He looks good>: jacketless; shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows; tie dragged away from his collar; hair curling in the humidity of an hot Californian day even in the air-conditioned environment of the school; the long-limbed walk; and the smile that lit his eyes as he saw her. She hadn't seen him since Sunday, hadn't even talked to him on the phone, and here she was, two days later, devouring the mere sight of him.

"Hello, Jenny."

"Hi."

A small cough came from somewhere behind her left ear. Flustered, she blushed slightly, and half-turned towards the man she'd been talking to moments before.

"I'm sorry!" she smiled at Andy Kovacs and then Giles. "Have you two met?” Giles shook his head. “Rupert, this is Andreas Kovacs. Andy ... " she turned back to Kovacs, "… Rupert Giles."

Giles felt Jenny lay a hand on his left forearm as she introduced him. The warmth and softness of her skin sent a bolt of desire through his body. He glanced down and watched as her hand fell away, brushing down the back of his fingers before leaving his body. He missed her touch the moment it was gone and had to take a deep breath in an effort to control his whirling emotions. Dragging his gaze from her retreating hand he looked at the younger man standing before him, with hand outstretched.

"Sorry!" He shook hands. "How do you do?"

"Well, thank you." Kovacs grinned. "So you are the elusive Rupert Giles!"

"Elusive?"

Kovacs crossed his arms over his chest and gave the Giles the once over.

"Oh, yes, you are the talk of the Faculty Room ... 'Rupert Giles? School librarian. Loves his books. Loves his library. You will never see him!' And yet here you are!"

"I do occasionally venture out into the great outdoors." Giles replied mildly, smiling slightly. "You've caught me on an 'I'm being brave' day." Kovacs smiled.

<Interesting ... >, Giles thought, <... how little that smile affects his face. How contained he is> The eyes were an incredible colour, so blue they were almost purple: and Xander was right, he had been trying it on with Jenny. Giles had felt the primal 'pre-fight' wash of adrenaline surge through his body as he'd turned the corner of the corridor and had seen Kovacs leaning into her against the wall. He was staring at Kovacs now and found himself being stared at. <He's very sure of himself. He's hiding the threat well ... but it's there ... > Giles tilted his head fractionally to acknowledge the challenge and then smiled. "Have you found your feet yet?"

"I think so, although sometimes I am finding it difficult to follow what the students are saying to me. Their use of the English language is ... "

"... odd, to say the least! It's a transatlantic thing, apparently, or ... or in my case possibly a generational thing!"

The two men laughed.

"London." Giles added.

"Leipzig." Kovacs responded in kind.

"Lunch?" Jenny interrupted, touching Giles's arm again.

"Hmm?" Giles started slightly, "Oh ... oh ... yes, sorry." He held up the brown bag he'd retrieved from the Faculty Room and smiled at her. "I was hoping you'd join me?"

"Obviously." she teased gently and then nodded. "That'd be good." She turned her smile on Kovacs. "Do you mind?"

"Oh no, I have something I must do before lunch-bell; an experiment to set up." He nodded and excused himself. "Enjoy your lunch."

Jenny watched him disappear before turning back to Giles.

"Lunch?" she raised a sceptical eyebrow. "When do you ever do normal things like stop for lunch?"

"When it's a slow day in the weird and not so wonderful world of vampire slaying." He hesitated. "And ... ah ... and when I've been missing your company."

He watched her pupils dilate and knew she was going to kiss him a fraction of a second before she leaned in to gently press her lips to his.

Pulling back she touched a hand to his cheek and stroked it down his face and onto his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the slight roughness of his beard-stubble and the way he pushed into her hand - like a big cat. The image made her smile.

"You're a good man, Rupert Giles; you do know that, don't you?" He shrugged, unsure if she was really asking him a question and not knowing how he'd answer it if she were. She took pity at the helpless look on his face and laughed at herself, her question. "I'm sorry, stupid question. I know you can't answer that." Her smile widened. "British reserve, right?"

"Reserve?" His eyes darkened and his voice deepened. "What reserve?"

Her gasp was beyond her control ... and suddenly they were back at Saturday ... and Sunday ... and he was making love to her with a sensuality that she couldn't comprehend but only surrender herself to. Eyghon and their subsequent separation had left their mark on both of them: she'd walked into his home with blatant invitation written across her face and he'd responded with an assuredness that had made a liar out of the Rupert Giles who'd, just a few months before, stumbled over even using her given name.

He'd taken her in his arms as if ... as if it had been inevitable ... had taken her upstairs, stripped them both of their clothes, laid her down on his bed and laid down beside her, as if it had been something he'd been doing all his life ... and when he'd kissed her, he'd kissed her as if he'd been waiting to kiss her forever. He'd used his mouth to torment her: hot whispers in her ear letting her know exactly what he intended to do to her, then his lips giving action to thought and words. To this she'd also surrendered herself: pressing her hand to his head, pressing him closer as he'd kissed, licked, sucked her breasts; gasping out a wordless affirmation when he'd reached the 'v' of her thighs and asked her if she'd wanted his mouth on her; raising her hips, groaning out her needs, as he'd parted her folds and touched her with his lips and tongue. She'd come then ... and again, when he'd returned to her breasts to suckle each nipple in turn deep into his mouth ... and later, with his body hot and hard inside her ... and finally, as he'd withdrawn, reaching between their bodies, finding her almost painfully swollen clit, he'd stroked her once ... twice ...

She blinked away the memory and forced herself to inhale. Her cheeks felt hot and, incredibly, she felt dampness between her legs. Shaken, she said his name, a question in the tone of it, although she had no idea what it was she was asking of him. Looking up at him she saw the darkened eyes, the muscles working in his jaw, the slight flush to his face and neck ... and stepped into him and rested against his body ... just rested there ... and felt him drop his head onto hers ... and felt his smile ... and she smiled ... and she knew then that they were ok.

"I got a bit overwhelmed, Sunday. I'm sorry."

He moved his head on hers, shaking it, needing to stop her from assuming blame.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know about overwhelmed," He lifted his head and touched her cheek, angling her face up so that he could see it, "But I felt stunned; you completely stunned me ... you do stun me."

"And you, me." she whispered back and reached in to hug him to her.

*****************************

Andreas Kovacs looked down on Jenny and Giles from his classroom window. He watched as they settled together on one of the benches that were scattered around the grounds to eat their lunch. <So they are lovers>: Jenny leaning on Giles's upraised knee and stroking his arm, up under the rolled-up sleeve. Even from this distance Kovacs could see Giles's eyes crinkle up with half-aroused laughter. When Giles bent to kiss her, Kovacs felt a spear of jealousy lance through his body.

He wanted Jenny Calendar. There was no reason to it, this was pure passion: and he was a man used to indulging his passions. Rupert Giles was in his way. Kovacs smiled, <Still, I know exactly how to remove those who get in my way.> But caution was required; Rupert Giles was no callow 'normal' who could be manipulated and moved aside, for Kovacs, mage to petty princes the world over, had seen the 'aura' of magic around the Englishman, had seen what was clearly a sigil tattooed on the man's left arm and had felt the strength in the considered appraisal of calm green eyes that had looked right into the depths of him. <A challenge, then. >It would make the winning of the prize that much sweeter - for he would have Jenny Calendar, his passion demanded it, and by Hecate, no one would stand in his way.

*************************

<Five minutes. This has been going on for only five minutes?> It felt like a lifetime. He wouldn't wake up ... she couldn't make him wake up. The bed was soaked with his sweat, his pyjama trousers were plastered to his legs - and she was clammy with panic.

"Rupert? Come on, wake up." She shook him again, her voice barely audible above his nightmare-induced moans. She shook him again, harder. "Giles!" Harsh tones. Soft tones. It hadn't made any difference - at least not yet.

She'd woken when he'd rolled away from her, a flailing arm striking her as he'd moved. She'd rolled over in her turn and had stared at him in shock. He was dripping with sweat, his body twitching and arching as if he was in pain. He moaned in time with his breathing. But it was his eyes that shocked her the most ... half-open, lids fluttering strangely and the whites rolled up. He looked like he'd suddenly gone blind, that he'd grown thick, all-encompassing, cataracts in the few hours since they'd gone to bed.

It was almost ten minutes. <I'm going to have to call 911> But indecision paralysed her; this, after all, was the Hellmouth, and if this wasn't something medical what could the emergency services do? She ran her hand through his hair and held his head to her as she pressed her lips to his ear, "Rupert, can you hear me? Come on, now, its time to wake up." His face was hot - she could feel it on her skin, burning her like a brand – and his heart pounded against the hand she'd placed on top of it. "Giles!" She could feel the helpless tears on her cheeks, mingling with the sweat already there: hers, his, she no longer knew. He felt to her as if he was dying ... another death for this God-forsaken place ... "Rupert? Please?"

His body went rigid. Her soundless, <NO! > screamed inside her head. Then he took a great gasp of air and opened his eyes. Jenny pushed herself up onto her elbow and into his field of vision.

"Rupert. Oh, thank God!" She watched his eyes focus on her face. He licked his lips and moved them around words that initially he found he couldn't utter. He swallowed heavily and tried again. "Jenny? What ...?" he sounded completely disoriented.

She placed a reassuring hand on his face and gently wiped away the sweat she found there. "You're ok." She spoke in a tone barely above a whisper, needing him to understand that, for this moment at least, what she was saying was true. The panic slowly faded from his eyes.

"What happened?"

"You had one helluva nightmare!"

Giles frowned. "Nightmare? I don't ... I don't remember ... " His voice fell away. Eyghon aside and even with the provocation of the Hellmouth beneath them, he did not suffer from nightmares. He never had. He rarely dreamed either. In his idler moments he wondered if the two were connected; the trade off that helped to keep him sane. "I don't remember." He shook his head in frustration. "Damn it!"

"Hey!" Jenny pressed her hand more firmly to his cheek. "I don't care that you don't remember. I'm just glad you're awake and ok." She blinked away lingering fear. "I couldn't wake you up. It scared the hell out of me."

He pulled her down into his arms. "I'm sorry." She shook her head and mumbled, "It's ok." against his chest. His arms tightened and she burrowed into his body, just glad to be held.

Practicalities finally hit.

"We should change the sheets, Rupert, these are soaking." She leaned up again. "And you should have a bath - it'll help you relax."

He nodded. "What's the time?"

Jenny glanced over at the clock. "Almost 6.30." They'd normally be getting up in half an hour.

"How about we share the bath?" He needed her near him.

"Are you sure?" He nodded. Her smile was, this time, more her smile. "Cool."

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