Title: Under The Mistletoe 2/3
Author: Gileswench
Date: 12/7/00
Spoilers: Through Series 5 thus far, to be safe.
Summary: Two confused people deal with the aftermath of their first kiss.
Rating: PG-13 (the smut comes in the next bit. Be patient.
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Distribution: Gabi if she wants it, UCSL. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.
Dedication: This entire one is for Shawna. Thanks for the plot bunny.

As Buffy strolled her third graveyard, she found herself concentrating more on The Kiss, which was already being capitalized in her mind, than on vampires. She couldn't believe she'd let Giles kiss her. She couldn't believe she'd kissed him back. She really couldn't believe how much she wanted him to kiss her again. And again. And again.

Great. Now she was having naughty lustful thoughts of her Watcher. In fact, as she walked, they became naughtier and naughtier. Not to mention more lustful. This was...not good. Uber bad.

But was it really all that bad? He was single, she was single, and neither one had a nasty soul-sucking, anti-nookie curse on them. Of course there was the ick factor that he'd slept with her mother once, but that had been while they were both drugged on cursed chocolate, They hadn't done anything like that since. Had they? She felt pretty sure not. After all, they could barely look one another in the face for months afterward. And she'd never gone over to his place to find her mom in his shirt. So, fluke. Not of the truly important. But handy ammo for future squabbles. Could be worse.

And he was older. A lot older. For the first time, Buffy began to wonder just how much older he was. She knew he'd reached adulthood well before she was born, but how much did that really matter? So he had a few gray hairs; he'd probably outlive her anyway. And he was stable. A responsible businessman who just happened to devote his entire life to keeping her safe. And he was in really good shape. That was obvious from both his trim figure and the feel of his chest earlier. She found herself idly wondering what it would feel like to play with his chest hair. She'd never cared for hairy chests before, but she thought the fact that he had one was sorta sexy. Uh oh. That's a major sign of love.

Of course there was that whole 'there's somebody else' thing he'd talked about. That would be a much worse problem. What if this mysterious 'somebody' decided she wanted him after all? Who was she? And could Buffy beat her to a bloody stain if she tried to take Giles away? Or would he remind her that wasn't what the good guys did?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her Spidey sense kicking in on someone behind her.

"You know, this is just not a good night for derailing my train of thought."

She twirled around to face the vampire, deftly dropping a stake from her sleeve at the same time. Raising her weapon on high, she dropped her arm as soon as she saw who it was.

"Spike. Great, you ruin the party for me and now you're here to, what? Play tongue hockey again? That's not a game I want to play with you, in case you hadn't noticed."

The vampire covered his hurt by pulling a tough-guy attitude. "Yeah, like I'd want to kiss you. I was only, whaddycallit, following tradition. And it's not like I'm the only one. I saw you kiss Red's little Wicca friend. Not to mention good old Rupert. Bet you liked that one, didn't you? All wrinkly and nearsighted like he is. That musta been fun. Surprised you didn't gag."

"Actually, the only time I felt like gagging tonight was when you tried to extract my toenails with your tongue. It felt like swallowing an ashtray."

"Yeah, well, like you tasted any better. All gingerbread men and diet soda. Enough to make a self-respecting vampire spew."

Buffy shook her head. "I don't have time for this conversation, Spike. Just remember, if you ever see me standing under a piece of mistletoe again, I will stake you if you come within three feet of me. Got that?"

"Oh, big threat. Like I'd want to do that again. You and your stupid...sweater."

"What's wrong with my sweater? Never mind. Go back to your crypt, Spike. Harmony's not gonna wait around if you're out all night every night bugging me. She'll get a clue. Just like Drusilla did."

Spike snorted. "How long you think Captain Cardboard's gonna stick around when I tell him you were practically shagging your Watcher in front of a whole party?"

"We weren't shagging. It was one, tiny kiss. A mistletoe kiss. It's not even like it's gonna happen again."

"Oh come on! Don't even tell me you're as blind as that. He wants you, Buffy. If you can't tell that, then you're even less intelligent than Harm. That old, dried up, wrinkled, gray-haired...librarian wants to take a poke at you. It's disgusting."

Whatever reaction he was expecting, Spike obviously wasn't getting it. A slow smile spread across Buffy's face.

"I'm 'somebody'."

"What? You gone daft now as well? What the hell are you talking about?"

Buffy grabbed the vampire by his arms. "Spike! I'm 'somebody'! I could kiss you!"

"Well, if you insist..." He began to lower his head toward hers.

"You try it, you're dust."

Buffy turned and strode away determinedly.

"Make up your mind, will you!" Spike called after her. He kicked a headstone viciously in frustration. "Bloody Slayer!"

*****

Meanwhile, back at Giles' party, Willow, Xander and Tara were all crowded together comfortably on the sofa engaged in denuding a fresh platter of cookies.

"So how have you guys been doing it anyway? What wacky wicca tricks are you using?"

Willow shrugged and Tara smiled crookedly. "It's not magic, Xander" the redhead told him. "We just keep taking it down and moving it somewhere else when neither one of them is looking. We figured eventually they would both end up under it, which they did."

"And from there on in, it's a matter of fate. Or Karma, or something." Tara looked pleased with herself.

"Sneaky." Xander grinned his approval. "There's only one thing wrong with this little scenario you two cooked up; to wit the fact that the Buffster has gone from among us and there has been the sharing of only one smooch. What makes you think she'll want another?"

"Trust me. There was serious chemistry. Did you see the way Giles kept staring at the door for the next hour? He's trying to will her back here."

"Okay, so Giles is hooked like a fish. However, I know from painful experience that just because a guy wants, doesn't mean a girl does too. I repeat, what makes you think she'll want to be with him?"

"C'mon, Xand. You heard her earlier. She wasn't even that territorial over Angel. She wants. He wants. They want. After that kiss, they may even get."

"And if they still can't figure it out, I've been researching truth spells." Tara's heavy-lidded smile grew even broader. "They can't hide if they can't lie."

"Remind me never to get you two mad at me."

At that moment, Giles came over to the sofa.

"And what precisely are you lot up to?" he asked noting their various smugly knowing faces.

"Nothing. Not a thing. Up to nothing tonight save for the partying." Xander babbled.

Giles folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow pointedly. "All right, what mischief have you gotten into now?"

"No mischief here." Willow lied unconvincingly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." While Tara was not a good liar, she was somewhat better at it than her lover.

"You three are up to something and I want to know what it is this instant." When Giles used his 'teacher voice', the Scoobies were helpless before him. Luckily for them, Willow noticed movement by the door.

"Look, Giles, people are starting to leave. You can't not say goodbye to them. It wouldn't be polite."

He hesitated but a moment before deciding his duties as host took precedence over grilling his young friends. "All right, but when I get back, I want some answers." He indulged himself with one more threatening look before he turned.

"That was too close. I vote we duck out the back before he can stop us."

The witches both agreed. By the time Giles returned to the sofa, his friends were long gone. As he stood there fuming at their escape, Anya approached.

"Where's Xander? I know he was just here. I want to go home."

"I've no idea where he's gotten to."

"That's just great." The girl's eyes brimmed over with tears. "He dumped me. I'm officially a scorned woman. Two years ago I would have been calling on myself for revenge."

"How about if I call you a cab instead?" Giles absently handed her a handkerchief as he went to make the call.

*****

When everyone had left, Giles began tidying the apartment. He was slowed in his endeavor by his frequent heartfelt stares at the door. All he could think of was The Kiss. He'd even begun to capitalize it in his mind.

Kissing Buffy had been every bit as sweet as his guilty fantasies had led him to believe it would be. She'd been just as warm, and soft as he'd hoped, and then some. And just as frightened as every cold wave of realism had told him she would be.

This beautiful golden girl deserved so much better. Yet he craved her touch with every fiber of his being. He could no longer deny that the true reason he had stayed in this godforsaken place when he was fired as her Watcher was that he was hopelessly in love with her. Now he would probably end up having to leave for the same reason.

The cheerful Christmas carols irritated him now, so he switched off the stereo with a bit more feeling than was strictly necessary.

He looked at the remains of his party and decided there was nothing he really had to deal with before morning. It would be enough to put away the leftover food for now. He was tired and depressed and felt as though he'd aged twenty years in an evening.

He switched off the lights, loosened his tie, and started up the stairs to the loft. Halfway up, he considered going back for a drink, but it seemed like too much effort.

Even undressing struck Giles as too much effort, yet he forced himself out of his suit and into the pajama pants he wore to bed. No good giving in to sloth. If nothing else, that was what his father had always said he would do. He wouldn't give the old buzzard the satisfaction of being right.

Once he'd gotten into bed, however, sleep would not come. Every time he tried to close his eyes, all he could see was Buffy looking at him, stricken and confused. Still, after a time, exhaustion took over and he did fall into fitful slumber.

Thus it was that he didn't hear the front door open and softly close again. Nor did he hear light footsteps on the stairway, then padding into his bedroom. Nor did he see the tender smile Buffy gave as she approached his bed.

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