Title: All Work and No Play
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Date: 7/14/05
Spoilers: None, but set post-Chosen
Summary: Giles is overworked. Buffy wants her man to find the fun again. Let the games begin.
Rating: FRAO
Giles sat at his desk and glared at the stack of field reports piled high atop it, threatening to topple over at the slightest gust of wind. He'd been reading boring reports for hours now, and didn't seem to have made a dent. There they all sat, daring him to go to lunch and come back to an even bigger mound of unfinished paperwork.
He loathed the reports with every fiber of his being.
"You'll just have to wait," he told them firmly. "I've only had a slice of toast and a cup of tea today. I want my lunch."
He started slightly when the intercom buzzer sounded.
"Yes? What is it, Enid?"
"There's a Slayer to see you, sir."
"Does she have an appointment?" he sighed. Confused new Slayers appeared in his office nearly every day wanting him to hold their hands, make their demons go away. He did his best, but there were times when he just wanted to run and hide. "If she doesn't have one, make one and tell her to come back."
He switched off the intercom and glared again at the mountain of paperwork.
"And don't you stare at me like that," he said. "You can't intimidate me."
The buzzer sounded again.
"What is it, Enid?" Giles snapped. "I told you I can't see anyone just now."
"She's very insistent, sir. She won't take no for an answer."
"Well, she'll have to get used to taking it."
"Miss, miss, you can't..."
"Enid, what the hell's going on?"
Giles' door flew open with a bang. He stared at the vision before him.
"What do you mean you won't see me?" Buffy demanded.
Enid came hurrying up.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Giles, but she just pushed straight past me. I couldn't stop her."
"That's quite alright, Enid. Buffy and I have had a good many discussions about the meaning of the word no. She's still a bit shaky on the concept."
Despite the gruffness of his words, Giles couldn't help smiling at Buffy. She returned the smile. After a moment, Giles remembered the fact that his secretary was still standing there, wringing her hands.
"Oh. Enid. Everything's fine," he said. "Look, why don't you go to lunch now?"
"Thank you, Mr. Giles," Enid said. "I don't mind saying I'm a bit peckish, if you're certain you won't need me...?"
"No, he doesn't," Buffy said. "In fact, why don't you take the rest of the day off. Go shopping. Have tea somewhere nice."
"Sir...?" Enid began.
"It's alright. I'll manage without you somehow." He steered her to the door. "Have a lovely afternoon, and I'll see you tomorrow."
He shut the door and turned to Buffy.
"I wasn't expecting you," he said. "What's the rush?"
"Rush? What rush?" Buffy asked. "I've been staying with you at your place for three days and three long, lonely nights now, and we've barely seen each other. I miss my Watcher. What's more, I miss my lover."
"Your Watcher and lover has been a ridiculously busy man of late. Paperwork, nervous Slayers, Watchers so wet behind the ears they make overcooked spaghetti look more ready to stand in battle...and then there are mystical occurrences all over the world to monitor, prophecies to interpret, bills to pay, resources to deploy. It never bloody ends."
"Well, you know what they say?"
"No, what do they say?"
"They say all work and no play makes Rupert a very dull boy." Buffy began to unbutton her coat. "They also say doing paperwork is no way to keep the top Slayer warm at night, or even in the afternoon. And I say England is too damn cold to spend time not being kept warm."
Her coat slid to the ground. Giles swallowed hard and sat down. Underneath the coat, Buffy was wearing nothing but a pair of high-heeled sandals and one of his shirts.
"Dear lord," he breathed.
"Of course, if you don't have the time, I could just jet back to Rome. It's plenty warm there."
"No, no, I really think I have been neglecting you, now you mention it," he said. "That's something I intend to remedy immediately."
Giles moved to the door and set the lock. His eyes smoldered when he looked Buffy up and down. By the time he'd crossed the small room to her side, he could see Buffy shivering with anticipation.
"Yes," he said. "You do look cold."
"I'm feeling a little feverish." She sat on the edge of his desk, toppling a stack of paperwork to the floor. "Oops. Sorry."
"Don't worry about it. I was thinking of handing them off to someone else to deal with, anyway. Now I've got more incentive."
"Rupert," Buffy giggled, "you're a very bad man."
"Really? And what would a very bad man do with a half-naked Slayer on his desk?"
"He'd play with her."
By this time, Giles stood before Buffy, still raking his eyes over her entire body. He nudged her knees apart and moved between them. His hands cupped her cheeks, but still he held back. He knew Buffy enjoyed being teased, and he preferred to draw out his own pleasure as long as possible.
"Would you like to play a game?" he asked softly.
"Depends," she said. "What are the rules?"
"Do you have anything on under that shirt?"
"Nope. Not a thing."
"Naughty girl," he chuckled. "In that case, you have to wear it the entire time. No matter what I do, the shirt stays on."
"I can probably live with that," she said. "Anything else?"
"As long as we're making love, there is no one else in the world. No mention of Dawn, other Slayers, Watchers, old lovers, or anyone else at all. We are the only people here, the only ones who matter. This is our island."
"Okay. Anything else?"
"Not for my part. You?"
"Oh, I've got one," she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. "You don't get to take off your clothes."
"Buffy, I can't make love to you fully clothed. Am I at least allowed to undo some fastenings?"
"No, silly," Buffy said. "I mean *you* don't get to remove your clothes. That's my job, and I'll do it the way I want, when I want, in the order I want. Got that?"
"So long as you leave them intact," he said. "After all, at some point I'll be leaving and I would prefer not to have to skulk out of the building because you've torn all the buttons off my shirt, or broken my flies."
"I'm sorry," she giggled. "I got carried away that time. I promise not to do any permanent damage to the wardrobe today."
"Fair enough, then. Anything else?"
Buffy cocked her head to the side and smiled dangerously.
"You don't get to use the word 'fuck'."
"Buffy," he growled.
"Those are the rules," she said airily. "Take 'em or leave 'em. 'Cause I could just go back to your place and read a good book."
"Alright," he said with a sigh. "I won't say...that word. Anything else? Am I not allowed to use my left hand? Do I have to keep my nose touching the desk the entire time? Am I required to call you Mistress Buffy Goddess of all things Sexy?"
"No, but I'm gonna remember all of those for another day." She slid her arms around his neck. "For right now, you have to let me take your clothes off, and you can't say fuck. That's all."
"I believe I can accept those terms." Giles lowered his head. "I would do almost anything for you."
"Only almost?"
"Let me pretend I still have a choice in the matter."
He kissed her deeply, passionately. His thumbs continued to caress her cheeks even as their passion spiraled out of control. A moment later, his hand moved to unbutton her shirt.
"I thought you said I had to leave it on," she laughed. "Are you breaking your own rules?"
"I said you had to leave it on, not that it had to stay buttoned."
She lay back, giggling, and allowed him free rein. In a trice, he had the shirt open.
Giles stared greedily at Buffy's body. The first time he did that, she'd felt an overwhelming urge to cover herself. When he looked at her this way, she felt more naked than she ever had in her life. It made her feel oddly shy, yet strangely powerful, as if he saw more than her flesh, more than her soul, and still willingly offered himself up to her. Even with the shirt still covering her arms and sides, Buffy felt entirely exposed.
The difference between this time and the first one was that she was no longer afraid of it. Giles had seen everything about her, the good and the bad, and accepted it all - loved it all. Even though he almost never said the words, Buffy could tell it in his every action, his every glance.
"Like what you see?" she asked.
"Do you have to ask?" He loomed over her, his tie tickling her belly. "Or do you simply want to be told?"
"Tell me."
"Rome has been good to you. You've put on some weight."
Buffy laughed. Trust Giles to say something like that when any other man would have launched into rapturous - yet slightly suspect - prose describing her beauty. His refusal to act like the hero of a romance novel confused her sometimes, frustrated her more often, but ultimately made her feel more secure than she had with anyone else. Like so much else about Giles, his funny, prosaic observations felt real, honest. Solid. That solidity gave her an emotional anchor, something to hold onto in her insane life.
"Kiss me," she said.
Giles willingly complied. His lips nibbled at hers until she opened to him completely. His wool jacket felt scratchy, yet somehow deeply erotic rubbing against her exposed breasts. His silk tie slithered across her torso. The cotton of his shirt felt cool and soft. The rough fabric of his trousers rubbed against her rapidly dampening core. She groaned.
It was strange for Giles to feel his lover's body almost naked against his completely clothed one. He wrapped his arms around her, sliding his hands underneath the shirt she still wore. The softness of her skin delighted him as much as her responsiveness to his touch. Her low moans and sighs sent a jolt of excitement through his groin, further stiffening his already hard cock.
"Do you know," he murmured against her lips, "that I've hardly eaten today?"
"Really?"
"Yes. I was thinking of doing something about that."
"I bet you'd like to drop a couple layers first, huh?"
"If you wouldn't mind."
"Too bad," she giggled. "I'm kind of enjoying you getting naughty in your work clothes."
He rubbed his erection against her harder.
"At least the trousers?" he asked. It wasn't a demand or a plea so much as a practical question. "They're getting damned uncomfortable, and that could lead to sloppy work on my part."
"Stand up."
He complied readily. Buffy smiled wickedly when she noticed the wet spot on his pants. If he left the building anytime soon, he'd still have a lot to explain and no answer that wouldn't cause major embarrassment to all involved. Her hands moved to his belt and undid it with practiced movements.
"What of my shoes and socks?" Giles asked. "Shouldn't they come off first?"
"Oooh, trying to direct me in my undressing plans, are you? Points off, Rupert. Just for that, the shoes stay on."
She opened his trousers and slid them down his hips, taking the boxers underneath with them. The wool and cotton puddled around his ankles allowing his erect cock to spring out long and thick and more than ready to satisfy her craving.
"I suppose that means there's no point in asking about taking off my jacket," Giles sighed humorously. "So I won't," he added before she could require him to button it closed. "Devil woman."
"You're learning," she laughed. "Good for you. But the jacket stays."
"I should never have taught you to set these restrictions." He leaned over and kissed her again. "Now lie back. I'm hungry."
Buffy stretched herself over the desktop and spread her legs as far as she comfortably could. Her body knew what was coming. She giggled when she heard Giles shuffling slightly as he moved into position. Then his breath was ruffling her wet curls, sending shivers of expectant joy through her body.
"Do it. Please do it."
He spread her nether lips gently with his fingers, then dived in with slow, deliberate licks. Giles probed her, teased her, explored her depths with his tongue.
"Oh, God! It's so good."
Her words intensified Giles' excitement. He loved knowing that he had the power and skill to make Buffy melt with happiness, to satisfy her as a woman. For so long, she'd seemed to perceive sex as something of a grim necessity of relationships. It had taken Giles a good deal of time and care to convince her that it was safe to laugh while having sex, or to tell him she wanted something different from him.
The game of setting restrictions and coming up with ridiculous - but painless - punishments for violations was part of his effort to show her how fun and funny lovemaking could be. Now, even though his jacket and tie were stifling him and the excess cloth around his ankles was making it difficult to move, Giles was almost giddy with excitement. He and Buffy rarely trusted anything that came without obstacles. Now they were setting their own.
"Harder, Rupert, harder!"
He redoubled his efforts even as he groaned against her mound. This was his Buffy. Demanding, passionate, and so very alive. So very different from the slightly passive, defensive woman who had set out for Rome the year before. Time alone had helped them both to heal, but the only way either felt whole was to be together.
Buffy was getting close, he could tell. Her thighs grew tense and her breathing shallow. He flicked his tongue over her clit with agonizing softness over and over again.
Suddenly, Buffy howled. Her hips bucked involuntarily. Her hands went to Giles' scalp, holding him to her.
"Oh, oh God! Right there, right there, yeah. So good. Oh, oh Rupert...Rupert...that's it...gonna come...oh, oh, OH!"
Her orgasm slammed into her. She shuddered, desperately clinging to Giles. Through the fog in her brain, she could still register the fact that he continued to kiss and caress her entire groin area, gently bringing her down, keeping her safe and warm and loved.
At last Giles looked up from his task. He smiled when he saw Buffy lying on his desk, still wearing his shirt, her body glowing with satisfaction and sprawled across his neglected papers. A smile played around her lips, but her eyes were closed.
"Not falling asleep on me, are you?" he asked with an amused grin on his face.
"Nope," she said. "Just soaking up the bliss. Your jacket's scratchy."
"You're the one who wanted it on."
"It's a little kinky, but I think it's sexy like this. Way better than if we were both naked. But next time, maybe I'll let you be all naked and I'll just pull up my skirt or something. That way I can see you, and still get the thrill."
Giles leaned over and kissed her hard.
"Are you ready for more?" he asked her. "Are you ready for me?"
In lieu of a verbal reply, Buffy wrapped her legs around Giles and reached down to pull up his shirt tails.
"I'm guessing that's a yes," Giles said.
He kissed her again, took himself in hand, and slid into Buffy. He stood tall and took her ankles in his hands so that she would be completely exposed to him.
The first time they'd made love, Buffy had made sure the lights were out and the covers over them both. There was a tiny piece of her that was sure something bad would happen if Giles saw her fully. That wasn't quite true. Partially, yes, but her real worry was that she would see Giles and then the recriminations would start. In the years since Angelus tortured Giles, Buffy had wondered how bad the torture had gotten, what evidence was left, until she was sure Giles was a mass of scars under his shirt. More than that, she was sure if she ever saw those scars, he would tell her exactly how each one was made until she melted away to nothing but a gelatinous blob of guilt and grief.
In the end, Giles took the bull by the horns one evening and simply stripped off before she could arrange camouflage. There were scars, certainly, but nothing horrific. What was more, he didn't want to talk about them or how he'd gotten them. He wanted her to see him, so he could tell if she was disappointed in his body because he was no longer a young man.
Once she looked, it was clear there was no disappointment.
Now his eyes bored through her while she lay wanton and almost naked under him. His hips moved faster and faster, driving his cock deeper into her body. Again and again, she felt his balls slapping her buttocks, heard him groan deeply.
"You feel so good surrounding me," he breathed. "I love to f...make love with you."
Buffy giggled at his near miss.
"I love it, too," she said. "I love your body."
He shifted her legs over his shoulders and bent down over her, pushing faster and faster. She took him with an ease and grace that never ceased to amaze him. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked hard as he reached a frantic pace.
Buffy cried out and shook as another orgasm rippled through her. Suddenly, Giles couldn't hold back anymore. He roared as the first wave hit him hard. He gave one last mighty push into Buffy and collapsed atop her, sated, sweaty, and very, very happy.
It was some time before he became fully aware of soft fingers smoothing his hair.
"See?" Buffy said. "You aren't getting enough exercise. You usually recover quicker than this." A slight shadow flitted across her features. "You're okay, right? Super healthy like always?"
"Don't worry. At my last physical the doctor said I'm fitter than most men half my age." He kissed her lazily. "But you're right. I've been spending too much time cooped up in this office. I need to get out and play more often. Though, if you come to me like this, I won't want to leave."
He pulled himself off his lover, but made no move to fix his state of undress.
"I should probably go and let you get some work done, huh?" she asked.
"Actually, I've had hardly anything to eat today. Just some toast, some tea, and some very sweet cream." His eyes gleamed as he looked her up and down. "You're delicious, but I'm afraid I need a more solid meal."
Buffy finally slid off the desk and began to rebutton the shirt. Giles pulled his trousers up and straightened his tie.
"I could go for a curry or something," Buffy said. She picked up her forgotten coat and put it on. "I could use a solid meal, too. And you need an afternoon off."
"You know, I think you may be right," Giles said. He slung an arm around her shoulders and kissed her again. "You do know there's nothing in the world I love so much as you."
Buffy grinned up at him. The words were all the sweeter for their rarity.
"Ditto right back at you, babe," she said.
"I was thinking," Giles said, "we might look for a bigger place."
"Bigger? What, too many Watchers to fit the building?"
"No, no," he laughed. "No, I was thinking my place is too small. My flat."
"Too small for what?"
"Too small for you and Dawn. That is, if Dawn wants to be with us. She's welcome, of course, but if she prefers to stay in Rome, that's okay, too."
Buffy came to a halt.
"Me and Dawn? Living with you?"
"Well, mainly you and me living together, and Dawn is welcome to stay in our home if she so desires. I'm not proposing some sort of threesome."
"When did this happen? Did I miss something? Like maybe the part where you ask me if I want this?"
Giles blinked rapidly and frowned.
"Don't you?" he asked.
"Well...yeah. Of course I do."
"Then what's the fuss? Come live with me."
"I just want you to ask. That's all."
"Ah. Would you like to live here with me in London?"
"Well...as long as I can tempt you away from the office now and then, sure. I'd like that."
He swept her up in a tight hug.
"Oh I believe you can be relied on to tempt me frequently." He kissed her soundly. "After all, you know what they say."
"What's that?"
"All work and no play makes Rupert a very dull, stuffy person, indeed."
"I thought it was 'a dull boy'."
"Buffy, I'm past fifty. I'm not a boy of any description."
"Yes you are. You're a very big, very exciting boy."
Giles kissed her again.
"Well, I'll allow that I'm big. And that I'm not a woman," he said. "Will that satisfy you?"
"Yeah, probably," she said. "But we'd better test that theory later tonight."
THE END