Full of Love
by: Gileswench
Rated NC-17
Date: 5/11/03
Spoilers: Through First Date...then I make my own little world based
on Joss'. I like mine better than his.
Summary: A change in attitude results in better choices and a more
effective plan of action against The First...not to mention romance.
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Category: Romance/Drama
Distribution: If you've had my permission in the past, you have it now. 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.
Warning: Character death, a spot or two of violence, slight Andrew torture, and heavy-duty Giles snark ahead. Do not proceed if you are troubled with a low sarcasm tolerence.
Notes: This one comes to you courtesy of Kerrie's birthday...which was several days ago, but it's the thought that counts. Anyway, she requested the following: B/G & smoochies..throw in some leather, his earring and that shirt he had on in "Family". That color on him was just drool worthy oh and maybe some singing....sigh and the rest of the gang finding out about them in an unusual way.
Dedication: To Kerrie, who did not go overboard at all. Happy Birthday, my dear. I hope you don't mind sharing with two other beautiful B/G birthday girls: the inimitable Rari Coss, and my sweet Savage. May you all three celebrate many more years in health, happiness, and prosperity.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Part 4
Xander's fist connected with Spike's jaw, hard.
"Ow! Bloody hell!" the vampire yelped.
"Ow!" Xander yelled, cradling his hand. "What's your jaw made of, Rigor Mortis Boy? Concrete?"
"I don't know," Spike said, as his face morphed. "But I'd like to find out what you're made of. Snips and snails, is it? Or is it something a bit bloodier?"
Before he could move to find out, Spike found himself smashed into a wall, near the ceiling. He slid down and shook his head to clear it. Willow stood at the edge of the room, her eyes fading from black back to their usual green.
"Leave him alone!" she ordered.
"Yeah," Xander sneered. "You heard the lady: leave me alone."
The witch turned to her friend.
"That goes for both of you," she said.
"Huh? Will?"
"He started it," Spike muttered sullenly from the floor. "I was just having a conversation, when he decided to go all Great White Hope on me."
"We don't have time for this," Willow said, ignoring both of them. "If you two can't be in the same room together, then I guess I'll just have to separate you. And you shouldn't be getting in fights, Xand; you'll pull your stitches. Spike, go to your basement."
"Why doesn't Baby Xander get sent to his room without supper?" Spike whined.
"Because he doesn't have a room here. Now move. And no snacking on anyone in the house." As the vampire limped away, the girl turned to her friend. "I know you don't like him, Xand. I don't either. But Buffy wants him here for some reason, and we can't just get into fights with him, now the chip's gone. He could hurt you. He could even kill you."
"Yeah, I know," he said. "That was dumb, what I just did, wasn't it?"
"It wasn't very smart."
They sat on the sofa.
"I just...I got so mad."
"Spike sorta has that effect on people."
"No, Will. I mean, yeah, I hate Spike and he does know all the right buttons to push, but I wasn't as mad at him as I was at me. I just can't exactly punch myself in the jaw, and his was right there."
"Why are you mad at you?" she asked. "Is this about your latest crappy demongirl date? 'Cause if it is..."
"Nah, it's not that. That was just the Hellmouth having its annual belly laugh at my expense. Not fun, but not such a big surprise, either."
"Then what?"
He looked seriously at her.
"Have you ever told her you're sorry?" he asked.
She didn't need to ask who or what for. Her fingers found a piece of lint, and toyed with it while she evaded Xander's gaze.
"Not...in so many words. You?"
"Not in any words. I guess...I guess maybe I thought if I didn't say anything, it wouldn't be real, and I wouldn't have to say anything. Dumb, huh?"
"Yeah. Dumb. But it's not exactly like you were alone in the dumbness. And at least you can blame it on me. I can't blame it on someone else, 'cause it was all my idea, and I bullied you all into it."
"Maybe, but I think we all sorta wanted to be bullied. We missed her, Will. We missed the gang, and Giles kept saying he was going away, and nothing was the same anymore. But if we'd known..."
"If we'd checked..."
"And welcome to the wonderful world of 'what if'. We really blew it."
"We really did," she sniffed.
"If we'd said we were sorry, and maybe tried to help out more, we wouldn't be in this mess now. At least, Spike probably wouldn't be living here free range."
"Maybe even Tara would still be alive."
Xander watched helplessly as Willow dissolved into tears.
"Me and my big mouth," he muttered.
*****
Buffy opened the door to her room, walked in, and shut it behind herself.
Quiet.
It was so quiet.
Almost eerie.
She shook her shoulders to ease the tension building there.
Not wanting to dwell on the silence surrounding her, Buffy took a good look at the room. Sunnydale was not exactly on the tourist map, but it had more than one hotel since so many people ended up spending the night on their way to more popular destinations like Los Angeles, San Diego, and Santa Barbara. This hotel was a nice one that catered to travelers, as opposed to the cheap motel Faith had lived in so long ago. Everything about the room was blandly tasteful. Cream-colored walls, seafoam green carpet, pale wood furniture with fifty coats of high-gloss varnish to protect it, bedspread in various pastel shades, a painting of flowers on the wall in colors carefully coordinated with the bedspread and hung in a narrow goldtone frame. There was nothing to offend the eye or stir the soul.
Certainly nothing to drown out the din of silence.
She put her leather jacket over the back of the chair at the writing desk, and set down the small bag of necessities Giles had gotten for her on the way. He'd insited on buying her a pretty nightgown, even though he knew he wasn't going to see her wearing it, and a few basics he felt sure the hotel wouldn't have provided with the room.
"It's either that, or we go back to the house and pick some things up," he had said. "And I, for one, don't care to have to explain the situation to thirty teenage girls with irrepressibly smutty minds."
He was right. Of course he was right. As usual.
'So why haven't you asked his advice about a single thing since he got back?' the little voice in her head asked. 'Or taken a single piece of advice he's offered?'
"Because I'm a big poopbrain," she told the empty room.
That had to explain some of the choices she'd made in the past year or so.
'Like Spike', her brain insisted. 'And like having the chip removed when you could have had it repaired. You put the whole house in danger to prove you trust a vampire who tried to rape you? Girl, what were you smoking?'
Suddenly, aloneness didn't seem nearly so enticing as it had mere moments before. She decided to take a shower, and then watch TV for a while.
Then at least there would be other voices to drown out the ones that told her she'd handled everything wrong since her spectacular return from death.
*****
Giles got out of the shower and began to towel himself off, still humming a mournful old song. He hoped whoever had the next room didn't mind his shower serenade. Music had always been an outlet for him; a way to put emotions in perspective. Most of the songs lately had been either very sad or very angry, and some were both. Tonight, there was no room for anger in his heart, so they were merely sad.
In some ways, going on a date with Buffy had only made things worse for him. If she retreated into her hard shell, he would only suffer more for having seen that the real person - the woman he'd known and loved for so long - was still in there. It was easier when he could pretend she wasn't; that Willow's spell had brought her back without a soul, or had brought back something that looked and sounded like Buffy but wasn't actually her. He knew the real Buffy would never have surrendered herself so completely to Spike's thrall. The real Buffy would never be capable of so completely ignoring the safety of everyone around her for the sake of someone so dangerous.
Except for that little voice in his head that reminded him she'd done it before.
'But sadly, I must remind you that Angel tortured me...for hours...for pleasure. You should have told me he was alive and you didn't. You have no respect for me, or the job I perform.'
"At least then she didn't bring him to my door and tell me to look after him," he muttered as he pulled on his boxers. "And in her way...she was right in everything but not telling us. Angel...did turn out to be useful. He did help us. Had already helped us when I said that to her." He looked in the mirror. "How often have her instincts saved us all when logic argued a completely different course of action?"
He resolutely turned off his brain and reached for his toothbrush. Perhaps before he turned in for the night, he'd see what mindless film was on the prominantly advertised premium cable channel the hotel offered for free.
*****
"What do you think they're doing now?" Amanda asked the circle.
"Doing? Probably each other," Rona said.
"No way," Dawn said. "He's way too old. She wouldn't. Not with him."
"She's already done a vampire. I don't care what she says, she and Spike have something going. They're too...vibey."
"But that's totally of the past, guys," Dawn protested. "And what about Principal Wood?"
"What about him?" Molly asked. "I don't think she's going to see him again soon - that way. But Giles...well...I think she really likes him. Not that I blame her. He is rather handsome."
"But he's her Watcher," another girl objected. "Would any of you have done it with yours? I know I wouldn't."
"Mine wasn't my type," Kennedy said. "A little too male."
"Mine was a little too female for me," said another girl.
"I never had one," Amanda added. "I didn't even know what a Slayer was until the night I found out I could be one."
"I did," Rona said. The rest of the room fell silent. "What? Like you're all virgins, saving it for the wedding night. Right. It's no big."
"No big?" Dawn squeaked. "How can you say that? What happened?"
"Look, it was him and me against the world as long as I could remember. Then, a few months ago...we got closer. He said it happened all the time between Slayers and their Watchers. And before you can ask, it was my idea. Then a Bringer came. Brian told me to run here. So I ran. That's the last I ever saw of him. Brave, huh? I didn't even stay long enough to see if I could save him."
"You got out," Kennedy said. "That was what he wanted."
"And Buffy always says, the most important thing in Slaying is don't die," Dawn added comfortingly. "You didn't."
"What does it matter?" she shot back. "We're all just sitting here like trapped rats, while Buffy goes out and has dinner and a movie, like some ordinary person. What if something comes for us while she's out on the town?"
"Then we kick its ass," Kennedy shrugged. "What do you think all the training's been for? We haven't spent all this time living, training, and working together to just curl up and die without a fight."
"You know," Amanda said slowly, "I don't think we've all really talked much. I don't even know everybody's name yet. Does that seem wrong to anyone else? We train, and we listen to lectures, and we all hide here, but I don't know what anyone else misses about before. Shouldn't we know something about each other?"
"I think we all know a bit more about Rona," Molly said. "Maybe we should all take turns telling something about ourselves. Make up for lost time."
"Okay," Dawn said, "I'll start."
*****
Part 5
"Come on, Will, please don't cry," Xander begged as he pulled her into his arms. "You'll make me cry, and then I'd be forced to shoot you so nobody ever finds out what a sissyguy I am. And then what would I do without my bestest bud?"
"T-twenty-five to life?" she choked out. "And...and you couldn't even use the broken yellow crayon defense."
"Yeah, it's a shame I didn't save all my Twinkie wrappers all these years."
"That didn't work. Maybe you should have saved the HoHo ones."
The pair chuckled soggily and kept hugging one another. For a long time, they just sat together in silence, drawing comfort from their connection. At last, Xander spoke.
"What happened to us, Will?"
"Just now? Or are we talking something more long-termy?"
"I know a lot's happened in the last couple years, but I can't believe what some of it is. How did we ever get the idea in the first place that bringing Buffy back would be easy and all about sunshine and daisies? We know more about magic than that."
"Yeah," Willow agreed slowly. "And then, what made us think if we never said we were sorry and we were never around, she'd be okay?"
"And the whole thing with Anya. I wasn't sure for months before our not-quite-big-day. Why didn't I just sit down and talk with her? One way or another, it would have saved a lot of misery for both of us, and possibly a bunch of money."
"I think that was more ordinary Xander stupidity," she told him. She rubbed his arm gently to ease the sting of her blunt pronouncement. "You do have sort of a way of letting things slide when you don't want to deal and it looks like it might work out on its own. Me getting out of control with the whole magic deal, though, that's just all wrong. I know better. I knew better a long time ago."
"Yeah, but you do sorta always have this way of having to convince the world you can handle stuff, even when there's a lot of you that knows you can't. That was just defensive Willow arrogance."
"Okay, maybe you've got a point. A little tiny one, but still sort of a point," she grumbled. "But what about Tara? When Joyce died, and Dawn wanted to bring her back, Tara didn't even want to let Dawnie know resurrection spells existed, because they're so dangerous and never work. Then, a few months later, she doesn't even make a peep like it'd be a bad idea to raise Buffy? That doesn't make any kind of sense."
"And Tara was all about the good sense," he said. "And what about Giles? He's got a brain the size of a planet, and he just walks out on Buffy when she's all recently resurrected and her friends are avoiding her because they feel guilty about bringing her back? Anyone could see she was ready to just hop right back into that grave."
"Yeah. After all the times Giles was the only person who could get through to her, and all the times he wanted her to depend on him more...he just went away. He was the only person who could have stopped half of the dumb things we did last year, and he just walked out on us. And if there's anyone we know who ought to know what sort of trouble a bunch of stupid, depressed, twenty-one-year-olds with no smart people watching out for them can get into, it's him."
"He has sorta been there, done that, bought the baggy sweater, hasn't he?"
Willow sat up and shrugged Xander's arms off her.
"I have an idea forming in my brain," she said.
"If it's the one where this First Evil manipulation has been going on longer than we thought, I'm right with you."
*****
Giles sighed and turned off the television - again. Two in the morning, and he still couldn't sleep, still couldn't find anything to watch, couldn't turn off his brain. He didn't like where his mind kept going, and felt sure Buffy wouldn't listen to him if he tried to share his thoughts. He pulled off his glasses and laid them on the nightstand - again. He laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
So many bizarre decisions had been made in the course of the past couple years. Some, obviously, could be chalked up to normal human fallibility. Others were harder to explain - even simply out of character for the people involved. Why on Earth would Tara and Anya have agreed to a resurrection spell? They were the only ones who understood exactly how dangerous an idea it was. Why would Buffy have turned from her friends and had an affair with Spike, of all...well, not people, since he wasn't one. Creatures? He wasn't quite sure how to end the question, aside from an expression of disbelief. And speaking of Spike, what had convinced him he was in love with Buffy in the first place? Why had he gotten a soul? And once he did, what made him come back and continue to treat Buffy so poorly and then emotionally blackmail her with this supposed soul of his?
He had to admit that even his own behavior wasn't exempt from scrutiny.
What had made him think Buffy was in any shape to be left alone like that? She had no job, no education, no parents, no money, too many responsibilities, and no hope. He knew what much of that was like from personal experience. At twenty-one he'd been broke, unemployable, and rebellious. He'd even been hopeless and briefly suicidal after Randall's death. If anyone could have got through to Buffy and made her whole again, it ought to have been him. There were so many better ways he could have handled the situation rather than leaving. He could have asked the Council for help. An ordinary psychologist would have locked Buffy up if she'd said what was wrong with her, but the Council had other resourses - *had* had other resources. When there was a Council.
And yet, he'd walked away from her and never told the Council where she'd spent the summer. Why was that?
His depressing reverie was interrupted by a tentative knock on the door.
"Giles?" Buffy whispered. "Are you still awake?"
He threw off the covers and padded over to the door. He opened it a crack and peered out.
"What are you doing still up?" he asked. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "No vamps or Bringers or anything like that. I just...I couldn't sleep. Seems I'm not so good at being alone these days, after all. My head won't shut up."
He smiled down at her. She looked lovely in the pale blue nightgown, despite the black leather jacket slung over it in lieu of a robe. He was about to move back and open the door further when he realized he was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts.
"Well...Buffy, it's late, you know. Couldn't this wait until morning?"
"It is morning. It's been morning for two hours. If I don't hear someone else in the room breathing, I don't think I'm gonna get much sleep, and then what do you think everyone will think we were doing all night?"
"Are you suggesting we sleep togther so nobody will think we slept together? Is that it?"
"No. I'm suggesting if we sleep together we might actually sleep and then they won't think we had sex together. Plus, if we talk about the new theory I have, maybe we can convince them we really went out for dinner and a council of war."
So the whole thing had been a joke. He scowled at her.
"And goodness knows my privates are only good for pissing with," he muttered under his breath.
"Eiww. That was really gross, Giles. Did you have to say that about peeing? Open the door and let me in, will you?"
"Hang on a moment," he sighed, "and I'll put something on."
"What? You're naked in there?"
"Not entirely. And while we're on the subject what would be so shocking if I were? For all you know, I might sleep that way every night."
"Well so could I, but someone here assumed I needed a nightgown," she snapped. She made a small, frustrated sound. "Look, just get decent and let me in, okay? We need to talk."
"You'd already be inside if you hadn't stopped to make a fuss about what I do or don't wear to bed."
"No fussing going on," she said. "I'm completely fuss-free. Now hurry up. It's drafty out here."
He shut the door and went to put on his shirt and trousers. A wave of frustration surged through him. A part of him, he realized, had been hoping Buffy would come to him in the night. Now, here she was and it was about insomnia and business. He left his shirt only half buttoned, returned to the door, and opened it, allowing her silently in.
"Took you long enough," she grumbled as she slipped through the doorway. "At least you didn't shove a cross in my face. Though it wasn't very smart that you didn't check and make sure I'm not a vamp. They don't need invites to hotels, do they?"
"Not to get in the building, but they do to get in rented rooms, I believe. Now what's all this about a new theory?"
He seated himself at the desk and tried not to think about the way the light filtered through Buffy's nightgown, half revealing her shapely legs.
"Do you mind...?" she gestured vaguely toward the bed. "And do you have to sit all the way over there?"
"For the moment, if we're to discuss this groundbreaking theory of yours, yes."
"Well, is it okay if I warm up under the covers? Somebody went nuts with the air conditioning in this place."
"Be my guest."
She shrugged off the jacket and Giles found himself swallowing hard. The fabric of her nightgown was thin and more sheer than he'd realized when he bought it. If he concentrated, he felt sure he'd be able to tell whether she had any underpants on. Instead, he turned his attention to rummaging in the desk drawer for the inevitable pad of notepaper emblazoned with the hotel logo. He located it, then took his time testing the traditional hotel pen to see if - contrary to all experience - it worked. By some miracle, it did. When he turned to face Buffy again, she was under the covers and wearing a bemused smile.
"Are we ready now?" she asked humorously. "I don't really think you're going to have to take notes on this. It's pretty simple. And probably kinda nuts."
"Let me be the judge of that," he said. "Now, what is it you think you've come up with?"
"First Evil."
"Yes...? What about it?"
"How long do you think it's been playing us?"
"Well, we began seeing signs sometime early in the autumn, as I recall..."
"No, Giles." She shook her head and shot him a disgusted look. "Not 'how long have we known'; how long has it been playing us? How long have we been puppets on his string?"
He set down the pen and laughed mirthlessly as he rubbed his chin. Buffy looked wounded.
"I know I said it was crazy, but did you have to agree before you even hear the whole theory?" she asked.
"No, no, it's not that," he said. "More a case of...well, let's just say it's been a while since we've come to the same conclusion so quickly."
"Really?" She perked up instantly. "You thought the same thing as me? So, are you the crazy one, or is it still me?"
"Probably both of us."
"See, I figured that eyeball thingy you and Anya talked to said this was all about me being back, and then I got thinking about how I was back. I mean, I could kinda see Will deciding she wanted me here and deciding she could do it, so she should, and I could totally see Xand playing follow the leader on that, but Tara? And Anya? Tara's the one who tried to stop Dawn trying to bring Mom back, and Anya's been around the block a few million times and she knows what resurrection spells can do. Besides, she never liked me that much. I mean, we get along okay, I guess, but we were never really big fans of each others' work. So, I'm kinda guessing the big bad needs me here, and it pulled some cosmic strings to get me back. And that's why it's going after everyone else. It's messed with my head, but you'd think the first thing the First Evil would do is get rid of the Slayer. You know, the one whose been on the job for eight years and had two big death scenes to save the world?"
"And yet it hasn't moved directly against you or - to the best of our knowledge - Faith."
"God. I didn't even think of her. And she's sort of a sitting duck in prison, isn't she? Maybe somebody should warn her."
Giles stood and began to pace the room.
"Why would the First leave you unharmed?" he asked. "I don't understand it. If you were gone, and Faith was still alive but imprisoned, there would be no active Slayer to get in the way of its plans. Why bring you back at all?"
"Gee, thanks."
"You know I'm delighted to have you here. I simply don't understand why something so evil would want you. You're a force for good."
"And yet, I did some really not-good things last year. And I've kept them right up this year."
"You're hardly alone in that. It may take years to know which of your actions were truly yours, and which were manipulated by the First."
"If I can duck responsibility on even a couple, it'll be a relief."
Yes, well, I feel much the same way."
They shared an ironic smile, then Giles returned to his pacing. Buffy frowned.
"So...it needs me for some reason, but it's scared of me, too. And it needs you and it's scared of you."
"Me?" He stopped in his tracks. "What does it need with me?"
"I dunno," she shrugged, "but it does. If it didn't, I don't think you'd be here."
"I told you, that thing tried to kill me. I only survived because its shoes squeaked."
"And that's way sloppy, which we know these guys aren't. You should be dead. Just like me. I mean, they can hunt and fight without any eyes. They've killed off nobody can even guess how many Potentials and Watchers, and I don't have an easy time bringing the Bringers down. Not to doubt your fighting, 'cause I've seen you do some real damage to the baddies in a tight spot, but you shouldn't have been able to win. It let you live. There has to be a reason for that."
"And one assumes it's because the First knew I'd return to Sunnydale and you."
"Where I'd be playing house with your favorite undead party guy, Spike."
"Whereupon I would make a complete ass of myself out of jealousy and fear, and alienate you. Yes, I think I'm getting the picture now." He sat on the edge of the bed with a thump. "So...what you're saying is that the First needs us both in the same place...but with...an emotional gulf we can't bridge. Is that it?"
"Well, I was gonna go with 'in the same zip code but completely out of touch'. Pretty much the same thing, yeah."
"I suppose that means that together...truly together..."
"We can beat 'em. I'm thinking that's about the size of it."
"Why the hell did it take us so long to think of this?"
"Duh! We were being puppets, remember? I really hate those things. Always have. So, I guess in order to save the world, we need to kiss and make up."
"It's a sacrifice," he said with an exaggerated sigh, "but if I must..."
"Oh, you must, you must."
"How literal would you like this kiss to be?"
She blushed slightly, but smiled.
"Very, if it's not too much trouble."
*****
Part 6
Spike slumped back on his cot. He pulled out his lighter and rummaged around for his cigarette pack. When he found it, he shook it only to find it empty. With a disgusted snort, he lobbed it across the room, then sent the lighter flying after it.
"Careful," came a pouty voice from the shadows. "If I was solid, that would have been painful."
"Sorry, Pet," he muttered insincerely. "I didn't mean to not hurt you."
Buffy's giggle bubbled up in the dark corner.
"I always liked the pain, Spike. Giving it...receiving it...the pain turned me on more than you can imagine. That's why you're here. Hurt me some more, Spike. I want it."
"You sure you shouldn't be Dru about now?" he asked sardonically. "That really sounded more her line."
The being sauntered into the light. It still wore Buffy's face.
"But it's true," it said. "You know it's what I wanted. Even when I fought, I wanted it. All women want to be dominated."
"Look, I'm not completely stupid," he retorted. "I do know Buffy is out tonight. And if you think ol' Rupes is going to dominate her...well..." he began to chuckle. "That's just too funny."
"She's out?" the ersatz Buffy demanded. "With him?"
"Never thought it would happen, but it seems she's finally taken off the bloody blinders. Not that he'll get lucky tonight. She's a right tease when she wants to be." When there was no reply, the vampire looked about himself. He shook his head in disgust. "So glad you could drop in," he muttered. "Come back when you can stay for a cup of tea, why don't you?"
He double-checked the space under his cot for more cigarettes.
*****
"Don't do this," Giles said quietly, "unless you're absolutely certain it's what you want. If you're going to regret kissing me in the morning, then go back to your room, and we'll forget anything was said."
She looked at him seriously. As if compelled, she trailed her fingers gently down his cheek.
"Stubbly," she observed with a small smile. "But nice."
Her fingers continued their exploration, discovering the shape of his lips, the slight crook in the bridge of his nose, skimming softly over the furrows of his forehead. At last, she traced the shape of his eyebrows and smiled at him. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She leaned toward him.
"I want it," she said finally. "But not now. Not like this. If we did this now, there would always be this question of whether we were doing it because we want to or because this is what some cosmic Pooh-Bah has wanted us to do all along. I want my free will back. When I kiss you, I want you to know it's really me, for all the right reasons."
His lips twitched slightly, despite his disappointment. Suddenly, he realized that he was feeling something else: gratitude. He was touched that she wanted to wait for it to be indisputably right. His hand reached up to caress her cheek.
"You truly are a miracle," he said.
She ducked her head to hide her blush. When she looked up, her expression was nervous.
"Could I...maybe stay here, even if all we do is sleep?" she asked hesitantly. "I know it's sort of a lot to ask, but I feel like I've been alone so long. Even with that whole houseful of people...I know it's stupid, but I kept feeling like I was alone no matter what I did or who I was with. So could we just sort of be here together? Or will you be all frustrated and snarky if we do that?"
With a small smile, he nodded.
"I'll just turn out the light," he said. "I might get frustrated, but I'll do my best not to be snarky."
He got up and took care of the aforementioned light. As he lay down next to Buffy, she looked at him with a smile.
"You know", she said, "you don't have to keep all your clothes on, if you don't want. I promise not to peek, even."
"I don't mind," he said a bit stiffly.
"Maybe not, but I do. More togetherness is better, Giles. And from what I've seen tonight, you don't have much to be ashamed of in the body department. Come on. It can't be comfortable to sleep in your pants. Anyway, you'll get them all wrinkly."
Giles almost protested, but then he decided that sleeping in his trousers would, indeed, be uncomfortable, and slipped them off. His fingers hesitated at his shirt buttons.
"I've seen chests before," Buffy said sleepily. "Just take it off and come to bed."
"Why this sudden fetish for undressing me?"
"Consider it a preview of coming attractions."
"You're getting all the previews."
"Too sleepy for this talk. Come lie down with me and shut up."
He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, lay down next to her, and closed his eyes. A moment later, a warm, female form pressed against him.
"Giles?"
"Yes, Buffy."
"You know I love you, right?"
"Of course I do," he said. "And you know the feeling is mutual, don't you?"
"Yeah. I know." She rolled over and wrapped an arm around his bare abdomen. "Apart from being a little weird...it's not too bad."
He chuckled and took her in his arms.
"It's not bad at all," he said. "In fact, I'm rather pleased."
They gave one another a light squeeze and settled down to go to sleep.
*****
"...and I like watermelon Jolly Ranchers, and my favorite TV show is Survivor...but my Watcher hated it. He used to tell me it was sapping out my brains," Kennedy said. "I miss him," she added quietly after a moment. "He was my whole family from as far back as I can remember. I guess that's about it."
She sat back down. Everyone was quiet at first. It felt a bit to Dawn like introductions at summer camp, when nobody was quite sure what to do afterwards. She guessed somebody had to be the cousellor and come up with the next game.
"Anybody want to play Truth or Dare?" she asked.
A figure in the hall came to a halt.
"Oooh, I love that game," Andrew said popping into the doorway. "Can I play too?"
The Potentials eyed one another. For the first time ever, they all seemed to be sharing one thought.
"Sure," Molly said a little too brightly. "We'd love you to come play. Who goes first?"
"Can I?" Amanda asked. When the others nodded, she turned on Andrew. "Truth or Dare?"
"Ummm...Truth," he chose.
"Are you gay?"
*****
"The sorority at the top of the stairs has been awfully quiet," Xander observed as he flipped through the book Willow had handed him.
"Kennedy's up there," she shrugged. "She'll keep it under control."
He nodded and went back to his reading. A minute later, he looked up again.
"Will? Do you really think we'll find anything in the notes?"
"I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's sort of all I could think of to do about our breakthrough theory...look stuff up...try to find some proof before Buffy and Giles get back so we can make 'em listen. If they'll listen. Buffy hasn't been really open to suggestions for a while."
"And Giles hasn't exactly been open-minded man, either. Not that we've been saying a whole lot worth hearing."
"Stop beating yourself up, Xand. We can mentally berate ourselves later. Right now, I think we should probably make with the helpful."
"I'm making. I'm helping. I'm starving. Think there are any cheesy chips left?"
"I ate the last ones this afternoon. Sorry. What time is it?"
Xander checked his watch.
"Two-fifteen. Why?"
"Shouldn't Buffy and Giles be...y'know...back by now?"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Giles called. They're not coming back tonight. And that's what I call a successful first date."
"So you think they're...y'know...doing it?"
"Will, we're all grown up now. I think we can say the words. They're doing the horizontal bop."
"Rockin' the casbah?" she giggled.
"Makin' bacon," he grinned.
"Making love like crazed weasels."
They stopped laughing and grimaced slightly.
"We're sick for thinking about this, aren't we?" Xander asked.
"Maybe just a little. But it's been so long since there's been a real good, maybe it's not so sick to be happy for them. I miss laughing with Buffy."
"Yeah. And I sorta miss teasing Giles until he stops being stuffy and zings me good. I want our friends back."
Willow reached out and took his hand.
"Me, too," she said seriously. "And I think maybe we should tell them that when they get here."
"Want to lay off the research and see if there's a really dumb infomercial on?"
"Sure. I don't think we're gonna find the answers between the covers. The...book covers."
"Only covers I was thinking of, Will," he said quickly. "And has anyone ever told you what a crime it is to bogart the cheesy chips? Infomercials just aren't the same without 'em."
They closed their books and headed for the sofa. As Xander picked up the remote, he turned to Willow.
"Y'know," he said, "I could get used to a life like this. My best friend sharing the tacky with me while our best friends get happy. Give me a love life and a toilet that isn't constantly threatening to overflow, and I'd be one happy guy."
"Maybe some living room windows that don't need replacing every couple weeks would be nice, too," she added.
Xander stopped flipping channels.
"Oooh!" he exclaimed. "Exercise equipment we'll never use. Wanna watch this one?"
"If we can't find Ginzu knives, yeah."
Willow pulled the comforter over herself and her best friend as they giggled at the overblown sales pitch.
*****