Inside to Outside
by: Cyberwulf
Rated NC-17
Disclaimer: Joss and ME own all the characters, and have shares in the plot.
Spoilers: Takes place during and instead of "A New Man"; contains dialogue from "A New Man".
Summary: What if, instead of a Fyarl demon, Ethan had turned Giles into something else?
Distribution: Ask me first, and tell me where it's going.
Feedback: Feed the Wulf! cyberwulf_1andonly@yahoo.co.uk
"Everything's switching. Insides to outsides … Someone's come to change it all." - Drusilla, Hallowe'en.
***
"You know what gets me?" Giles slurred. "This is what gets me…" He took a couple of deep breaths and steadied himself in his seat. "Twenty years I've been fighting demons. Maggie Walsh and her nancy ninja boys come and…" He hiccupped. "…six months later the demons are pissing themselves with fear." He shook his head slightly. "They never even notice me."
"Who's Maggie Walsh?" Ethan asked. He wasn't really that interested. He gazed at the waitress as she walked past. God, she had a nice arse.
"Oh, she's awful," Giles replied glumly, staring into his glass. "She said I was a…absent male role model." A brief, bitter smile appeared on his face. "Absent my arse." He raised the glass to his lips. "Though I'm twice the man she is…"
"You know, you're really very attractive."
"Hmm?"
"Here's… my name and number…" Ethan slurred, jotting something down on a scrap of paper. Giles looked up at the waitress, who was picking up the empty glasses, and nodded in understanding. A flush of embarrassment crept up the back of his neck. He should've known better than to think Ethan was chatting him up - those days were long gone.
"You give me a call… I'll show you a good time." Ethan gave the waitress a tipsy smile as he handed her the paper.
"Right," the waitress replied tersely. She was used to creeps hitting on her. It didn't matter, as long as they kept spending their money, and the bouncers sorted out anyone who got heavy. But this guy was especially slimy. She turned and got back to the bar as fast as she could.
"We've gotta face it, we've changed…" Giles put his glass down. "Well, not you, you're still… sadistic and self-centered -"
"Here's to me," Ethan replied with a grin.
"The world has passed us by," Giles continued. His expression changed to one of wonder. "Someone… snuck in and left a couple of clapped-out has-beens in our place…" He looked up at Ethan and tried to focus. "I mean, this… Initiative. Their methods may be questionable but they're getting the job done." He sat up straighter, ignoring the wave of dizziness that cascaded over him. "What am I? I'm an unemployed librarian with a tendency to get knocked on the head and then…"
"Well, you won't have to worry about that any more, mate," Ethan said matter-of-factly. "When you went to the loo I slipped a small pellet of poison in your drink." He paused for effect. "You'll be dead in an hour."
A cold feeling of dread washed over Giles as he stared at Ethan in disbelief. He suddenly wanted to be sick. An image of Buffy flashed through his mind. How could he have been so stupid as to go drinking with Ethan Rayne?
The sorcerer stared back at him… then broke into a grin.
"Just kidding!" he exclaimed, cracking up. It was infectious, and Giles collapsed into laughter. Ethan sobered a little and gazed at his old friend. It had been a long time since he'd seen Ripper really happy. From what he could remember of his mate's drunken ramblings - the evening, like the room, was getting a little fuzzy around the edges - the brats treated him like shit. Well, when they remembered to talk to him at all. It made Ethan angry. Little bastards didn't deserve him. But try telling Ripper that. His self-esteem was so low these days, Ethan wouldn't be surprised if the former Watcher blamed himself for the way he'd been tossed aside. It made Ethan sad. It was one of the reasons he invited the beatings - making Rupert Giles angry turned him back into the fierce, powerful man he'd been twenty-five years ago.
Giles was coming down a little, grinning ruefully at himself and his situation. "I'm gonna feel like hell in the morning…"
"Relax," Ethan replied. "Enjoy the night." He gave Ripper a smile. "You know, we're still a couple of old sorcerers," he remarked softly. "The night is still our time. A time of magic."
Giles raised his shot glass of whiskey. "To magic."
Ethan bumped his glass against Giles', and both men downed their drinks in one swallow. Giles banged his glass down on the table and his head almost followed it. He pushed himself up and leaned against the back of the seat. He sighed. Ethan copied him. Clearly Ripper wasn't done being maudlin. Still, if he needed someone to talk to, Ethan would listen. After himself, Ethan cared about exactly two people - his favourite nephew Donovan, and Ripper. He viewed the vast majority of the human race as a source of amusement, and was quite happy to spend the rest of his life alone. Ripper wasn't like that. Ripper needed human contact, emotional attachment, intimacy. A listening ear, a shoulder to cry on… a cuddle or a hug now and then. And he wasn't getting any of that, and none of his 'family' noticed or even cared. Ethan scowled briefly. Fucking kids.
Giles traced a line in the condensation on his pint. "You know what else she did?"
Ethan frowned in puzzlement. "Who?"
"Maggie Walsh," Giles slurred patiently. "She said… Buffy lacked a father figure." He gave a mirthless chuckle. "She said that… right to my face." He leaned forward and held his thumb and finger close together. "Reeeaaally pointedly."
"Yeah?"
Giles squinted at his friend. Ethan was very blurry. He put his glasses on. It didn't help, so he took them off again.
"Don't you get it?" he asked. "She only goes and assumes I'm Buffy's bloody dad… and then she tells me I'm crap at it." His head was nearly on the table again. Ethan reached out and gently pushed him backwards. "Thank you." He picked up his empty shot glass and studied it with a bewildered expression on his face. "Professor of psychology." He hiccupped, then grinned again. "Wonder what she'd say if she knew what I really wanted?"
"What's that?" Ethan asked with a grin of his own, though he knew perfectly well what Giles meant. The other man's smile disappeared.
"Oh, Ethan," he sighed. "I want…" He trailed off, unable to continue.
"To throw Buffy down on your bed and fuck her till she can't move?" Ethan asked with a smirk.
Giles' expression soured. "Yes, you would have to put it like that, wouldn't you?" He grew glum again, resting his cheek on his fist. "Oh, God, I love her. I love her so bloody much that I don't know what to do."
To Ethan, the solution was obvious. "Why don't you just tell her?"
Giles looked at Ethan as if he'd grown horns and a tail. "I can't tell her!" he replied. "She doesn't feel that way about me, and she never will." He had another mouthful of beer. "Besides, have you seen her latest boyfriend?" Ethan shook his head. "How am I supposed to compete with six foot two of clean-cut, athletic, sandy-haired all-American boy?" Giles continued. He grew bitter. "I'm just a walking library to her."
Ethan had closed his eyes at Giles' description of Riley. "Sounds positively delicious," he purred. He opened his eyes again and leaned forward. "I could always seduce him for you."
"Oh, please," Giles replied, making a face.
"Just because I'm comfortable with my bisexuality -"
"You're not bisexual, Ethan, you're just a letch," Giles slurred.
Ethan pretended to look wounded. "Now you've hurt my feelings."
"Makes a change, me hurting people," Giles growled sourly. "Instead of me getting hurt…" He slipped sideways and Ethan dived across the table to catch him. "Oh. Ta."
"Let's get you home," Ethan suggested.
"Okay," Giles replied. "I'll just finish my pint…"
Ethan looked down at the glass he'd knocked over with his elbow. "I think it's on the floor," he said apologetically. "Sorry."
"'S alright," Giles managed, as Ethan helped him to his feet. "American beer tastes like piss anyway…"
Ethan was glad it wasn't far to Giles' place. The other man could barely walk and Ethan had to half-pull, half-carry him along the street. Ethan couldn't help giggling a bit.
"What's funny?" Giles demanded.
"Just wondering where you put it all," Ethan replied. "I haven't seen you this full in ages."
"I've got two hollow legs," Giles answered, "and neither of them are working properly at the moment." He rested his head on Ethan's shoulder. "So don't drop me."
"I promise," the sorcerer reassured him. He grinned. "I also promise not to take advantage of you when I'm putting you to bed."
Giles snorted. "Chance 'ud be a fine thing. I can't remember the last time I was involved in any kind of advantage-taking…" He made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and his head slid forward onto his chest. "No-one wants you when you're old."
"You're NOT old," Ethan insisted patiently.
"I am," Giles replied. "That's all I am to them now." Ethan's eyes narrowed. There was no need to ask who 'they' were. "I'm not the Watcher," Giles continued, "I'm not the mentor or the sensei, I'm not the one with all the information any more. I'm just the old guy."
"Pack of ungrateful little shits," Ethan spat. Giles straightened up as much as he could and gave Ethan a shove.
"Don't call them that," he growled, but without much conviction. He nearly fell and Ethan steadied him. He wrapped an arm around Giles' waist and rubbed his back.
"I will call them that," Ethan murmured. "Nasty little brats, upsetting my Ripper. Making him feel old and useless."
"It's not their fault," Giles slurred. "I mean, they're young, they're off making their way in the world…" He gazed blearily at Ethan. "Come on, when we were twenty and twenty-three, we didn't want to hang around with forty-six-year-olds, did we?" He sniffed. "We certainly didn't want to sleep with forty-six-year-old women…"
"I did," Ethan replied.
"Don't you remember our little conversation about you being a letch?"
"I prefer to be called 'delightfully saucy'," Ethan remarked.
Giles covered his face with one hand. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick."
Ethan halted on the footpath. "Rip, is this your house?"
"Hmm?" Giles looked up. "Oh. Yes." Ethan helped him down the steps.
"Keys?"
Giles felt in all his pockets before he found them in the first pocket he'd checked. Ethan got the key in the lock on the second try, and managed to open the door on the fourth try. He pushed Giles inside.
"You've never been in my house, have you?" Giles hiccupped.
Ethan shook his head. Giles stood in the middle of the lounge and spun around slightly unsteadily, arms outstretched.
"Well, that's it."
Ethan gazed around disinterestedly, noted that the décor was not to his taste, and shrugged his shoulders. "Very… neat." He approached his old friend. "Come on, I'll put you to bed." He took Giles' arm and pulled him upstairs.
They had just reached the landing when Giles' legs packed in completely, and he slumped against Ethan. The warlock looped his arms under the former Watcher's, and hauled him to the bed. He heaved him up onto it and started taking Giles' shoes off. That done, Ethan got to work on Giles' jeans.
"What you doing?" Giles slurred, raising his head slightly.
"Relax," Ethan replied with a smile. "I'm just making you more comfortable." He tugged off the trousers, then gently wrestled Giles' sweater off. Giles dropped his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.
"Thanks for listening to me," he mumbled. "I need someone to listen sometimes…" He passed out and began to snore gently. Ethan pulled the quilt over him and sat on the edge of the bed. He gazed down at the sleeping man and sighed. Poor Ripper. The idea that had been slowly forming in his head all night now began to push through the alcoholic fog in his brain. Ethan turned away. A slow smile crept over his face. Yes. This would make Ripper happy, and it would give those kids the kick in the arse they needed. It might even open a certain Slayer's eyes to what was right in front of her. He looked down at Ripper again. Of course, he really shouldn't do it. Which, for Ethan Rayne, was the only reason to do anything.
He closed his eyes and chanted the spell softly under his breath, careful not to wake the man next to him. He leaned over and kissed Ripper on the forehead.
"Sleep tight," he murmured, then rose and let himself out.
***
Giles opened his eyes a crack. There was a giant fly buzzing around his head. After a couple of seconds he realised it was his alarm clock. Mercifully, it clicked off automatically. Giles closed his eyes again and groaned. He wanted to stay in bed, but the full feeling in his bladder made that impossible. He threw off the covers and made his way into the bathroom.
He whistled idly while he went, but gave up quickly as the sound shot through his head like nails on a blackboard. He flushed and washed his hands.
"God, I feel like hell in the morning," he muttered, as he flicked the cabinet mirror closed.
Giles let out a startled yell at the sight that greeted him. He touched his face to make sure it was him and gave a little jump back. No lines. No wrinkles. He turned his head to the side. No grey. He ran his hand through his hair. His longer, thicker, darker hair. Giles looked down and touched his chest. It felt different. Quickly, he shucked off his T-shirt and gasped. His pectorals were firmer, better sculpted. The belly he'd been noticing with increasing apprehension these past few years was gone. Hangover forgotten, he stared at his reflection in disbelief.
He was a young man.
***
"I like pancakes, because they're stackable," Buffy said brightly. "Ooh, and waffles, because you can put things in the little holes if you want."
Willow giggled. "You should always have a new boyfriend. You're so much fun right now."
"Riley's great," Buffy replied dreamily. "And Maggie Walsh is so cool. She's really interested in the whole mystical side of slaying." She had a forkful of pancake. "I'm telling you, Will, she and Giles would so totally get along. Y'know, I think I'll introduce them."
Willow grimaced. "They - they kinda already met."
"Huh," Buffy replied, looking at Willow in surprise. "When did that happen?"
"Giles was looking for you yesterday," Willow told her. "He went to see Professor Walsh and - well, I'm not sure what happened exactly, but they didn't get along."
Buffy frowned in puzzlement. "They didn't?"
Willow shook her head. "Not unless 'fishwife' means something good."
"Why was Giles looking for me, anyway?" Buffy asked.
"This demon prince was supposed to rise last night," Willow replied. Seeing Buffy's panicked look, she added hurriedly, "But it's okay. When we got there, the Initiative had already taken care of it."
Buffy gave a sigh of relief. "Good." She noticed Willow's serious expression. "What?"
"Xander and I mentioned the Initiative to Giles last night," Willow replied. "He didn't know what we were talking about."
Buffy's bewildered look gave way to shock and she put a hand over her mouth.
"Oops."
"He didn't even know that Riley was a commando," Willow continued. "Or that Maggie was in charge."
Buffy stared down at her food, suddenly uncomfortable. "I can't believe I forgot to tell him," she murmured. She looked up at Willow again. "Was he mad?"
"He was really hurt, Buffy," the witch replied. She remembered the look on Giles' face as he sat in the crypt, just before she and Xander had high-tailed it out of there, and suddenly wished she'd stayed to keep him company. "He's feeling neglected and outa the loop-y."
"Oh." Buffy cheered up a little. "I'll make it up to him tomorrow."
Willow looked at her.
"Okay," Buffy amended, "I'll make it up to him tonight." She grinned. "I'm spending today with Riley."
"Oh yeah," Willow replied with a grin. "I forgot that's what you always do on the days the earth rotates."
***
Giles walked down the street, still stunned at his new appearance. He'd spent ages staring at himself in the full-length mirror in his room, unable to get over what had happened. His muscles were firmer and stronger, his skin was smooth, the niggling aches and pains he felt these days were all gone. His eyesight was better, too. He paused and gazed up at a tree, marvelling in his ability to see all the little leaves in detail instead of a big green blur. He knew Ethan had done it. What he didn't know was why. Or if it was permanent.
He approached the bar they'd been in last night. It looked closed, but then a few guys walked in ahead of him. Giles pushed the door open, hoping the waitress Ethan had tried to pull was at work this morning.
He ambled up to the bar, looking around. The bartender noticed him and moved swiftly down towards him.
"If you're here to drink, I'm gonna need to see some ID," he informed him.
Giles couldn't stop the huge grin that spread across his face. The bartender stared at him in angry puzzlement. Giles cleared his throat and got hold of himself.
"That's all right," he replied. "I'll just have a Coke."
The bartender gave him a last look before turning away to get his drink. Giles paid him, and leaned against the counter. He sipped his drink. Being asked for ID was probably the biggest compliment he'd been paid in quite some time, but it highlighted a rather large problem with his new appearance. He needed to find Ethan.
"Morning, Sally," the bartender said suddenly. Giles looked up and saw the waitress from the previous night enter the bar.
"Hey, Tom," she said wearily, heading into the back. She emerged a few minutes later, with a notepad and pen. Giles set his glass down and approached her.
"Excuse me, miss."
"How can I help you…" the waitress asked, then quickly swept his body with her eyes. "…sir?"
A warm feeling rushed through Giles. It had been a while since a woman had checked him out so blatantly.
"I'm looking for someone," he explained. "There were two men in here last night. English, like me, but older. One of them gave you his number."
"Oh," the waitress said, remembering. "I threw it out. When I saw he was staying at that rat trap -"
"Which rat trap?" Giles asked.
"The Sunnydale Off-Ramp," the waitress answered.
"Thank you," Giles replied with a smile.
"You know, you look a lot like one of them," the waitress remarked. "Is he your dad?"
Giles' smile grew wider. "Something like that."
"I had to search for my dad after he went on benders, too," the waitress sighed. She smiled back at him. "I hope you find him."
Giles nodded, then turned and headed out. The waitress pouted.
"Damn, why couldn't *he* have given me his number last night?"
***
Giles didn't have far to go to get to the seedy motel Ethan was staying in. He got the room number from the receptionist - who also sent an appreciative look his way - and headed back outside.
Ethan woke to the sound of someone banging on the door. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and reached for his slacks.
"Hang on, hang on, I'm coming!" he growled. Yawning, he opened the door. His eyes widened when he saw the young man on the other side of it. Then his face lit up.
"Ripper!" he exclaimed, pulling his friend into a hug. He stepped back and looked him up and down, then blew out a sigh. "It worked!"
"Why do you sound relieved?" Giles asked.
"Well, it's the kind of spell that can go wrong and turn you into a Fyarl demon if you fuck up the translation," Ethan replied with a wicked grin. Giles punched him playfully on the arm. "Come in!"
Giles stepped across the threshold and looked around at the shabby carpet, the fading paint on the walls, and the watermarks on the ceiling. "Ethan, why are you staying in this shit-hole?"
Ethan smirked.
"Because this is where the drug dealers meet," he replied. "And I like to bang on the wall and shout 'He's wearing a wire!'."
Giles chuckled. Ethan sat on the unmade bed. "So, what do you think of my spell?"
"I'm not sure," Giles admitted, leaning against the wall. "Exactly what have you done to me?"
"I've made you twenty years younger," Ethan replied. "Well, on the outside, anyway. You're still the same person you were yesterday, except now you have the body you had when you were twenty-six." He smirked. "Those kids won't be writing you off as 'the old guy' any more."
"Why did you do it?" Giles asked.
Ethan sighed.
"Because I don't like seeing you miserable, Rupert," he answered. "Unless I'm the one making you miserable."
"Is it permanent?" Giles asked quietly.
"Don't you like the way you are now?" Ethan replied.
"Well…" Giles paused and frowned, looking at the carpet while he thought. He looked back at Ethan. "There are certain disadvantages to this spell…"
"Such as?"
"Such as all my documentation being for Rupert Giles, born in 1954," Giles replied wryly.
Ethan smirked.
"You might find there are more important things in life than the little bits of paper the government uses to keep track of you," he remarked. He stood up and pulled on a shirt. "Look, at least try it for a couple of weeks. Call it a trial period. I'll be in town all this month, if you're not happy, just come and see me, I'll reverse the spell."
Giles fixed him with a steady gaze. "I have your word on that?"
Ethan held up his hands. "I promise."
Giles wasn't convinced.
"How do I know there won't be any strange side-effects?" he asked suspiciously. "How do I know I won't wake up tomorrow as a giant mutated carnivorous badger? Or that I won't discover you've aged someone else twenty years to compensate for my new-found youth?"
"There aren't any side-effects!" Ethan insisted earnestly. "I swear on my mother's grave." He looked at Giles. "And Ripper, you know how much I love my mum."
Giles looked away, doubtful.
"Well…"
"Relax, Ripper," Ethan declared. He grinned. "Enjoy my gift. Get out there and have some fun."
A smile spread slowly across Giles' face.
"I might just do that."
***
Buffy headed down the steps to Giles' apartment, going over the apology she'd been rehearsing all day. Buffy apologies didn't always go very well. Somehow, if the person she was apologising to got angry, she could never just let them say their bit without getting defensive, and the whole thing usually degenerated into a shouting match. But then again, no matter what she did, Giles never seemed to get angry - well, not the kind of angry that came with yelling and screaming. When Giles was angry with her, he was usually hurt, too, and reprimanded her quietly in a voice that made her feel about two inches tall - something Buffy wasn't looking forward to. She mentally tacked on an extra hug to the end of her apology.
She pushed open the door to his apartment and went inside. Giles was nowhere to be seen. Then she heard running water, and realised he was in the shower. Buffy grinned when she heard him singing in there. At least he was in a good mood. Feeling much less apprehensive, she headed into the kitchen to get herself a glass of juice.
She didn't notice that the water had stopped, and she never heard the bathroom door opening. Buffy turned from the fridge just as a tall, almost-naked man entered the lounge.
"And she's buying a stairway to…"
Buffy's glass slipped through startled fingers and smashed on the floor. The man jumped and grabbed the pink towel around his waist tightly.
"Buffy?"
Buffy stared at the lean, dark-haired, muscular stranger in front of her. Her mouth almost watered at the sight of his well-toned biceps. Her eyes wandered down to his legs, then back up to his chest, and she found herself wondering what it would be like to lick his belly button. She shook her head suddenly, realising he'd called her.
"What -" She came out from behind the breakfast bar, all senses suddenly on full alert. "Who are you? How do you know my name?"
"Ah." The man shifted awkwardly. "I, I realise my appearance may be a little startling-"
Buffy goggled in disbelief as she recognised the voice. "Giles?" She approached him. "Giles, is that really…" She stared up into his eyes, and had her answer. "It *is* you."
He smiled gently at her. "Yes, it's me."
Buffy looked down at his body again. "But - but you're so… so…" She looked back up at him. "How?"
"It's a spell," Giles replied. Buffy didn't respond, and he saw that she was staring, mesmerised, at a drop of water trickling down his chest. He managed to suppress the huge smile threatening to split his face in two. He cleared his throat gently and Buffy looked up, face burning.
"Huh? What?"
"Um, why don't you sit down," Giles suggested, "and I'll go and put some clothes on."
Buffy blushed even more as she just managed to stop her whine of protest at an end to all the naked goodness in front of her. She sat on the couch and tried not to squirm. Giles headed for the stairs. Once he was halfway up, he let his happiness take over and grinned like an idiot.
Buffy sent anxious glances towards the loft. She wasn't sure what to make of this younger, yummier version of her former Watcher, and was switching rapidly back and forth between "Oh my God, I'm lusting *Giles*!" and "Want, take, have." All she did know was that she wanted to see him again. Preferably without the towel. After an eternity she heard him coming back down the stairs, whistling to himself.
//He's so happy.// When was the last time she'd seen Giles really happy? Buffy couldn't remember.
"Now then," Giles declared as he entered the room. Buffy looked up and swallowed, gazing at the grey T-shirt that fit him like a second skin. Giles sat in a chair opposite her. "What do you want to talk about?"
Buffy's voice suddenly deserted her, and the questions that had been swirling around in her brain moments earlier fled. Giles was gazing at her, his usual faint smile on his face. All Buffy could think about was how much she wanted to kiss him.
"Um…"
There was a flurry of activity at the front door. Giles' attention was distracted, and Buffy blew out a deep breath.
"Thank you," she mumbled quietly.
"Okay guys, you will never guess what!" Xander exclaimed as he came into the lounge, followed closely by Willow and Anya. "I just saw Ethan Rayne, and -" His gaze fell on Giles. "- who are you?"
Buffy looked up at the gang. Willow and Anya were staring at Giles, too. Willow's expression was a weird mixture of startled and appreciative. Anya's gaze was positively hungry. Buffy stole a glance at Giles. He'd noticed the way the girls were looking at him, and his smile was bigger.
"It's me, Xander," he explained. "It's Giles."
The other Scoobies stared open-mouthed.
Xander was the first to say something.
"Nuh-uh," he declared, shaking his head. "See, Giles is this old guy, who, despite being really smart, managed to lose two jobs in a couple of months and -"
Giles' expression darkened.
"Xander," he warned, glaring at him.
Xander's eyes widened and he took a few steps back.
"Oh my God, it's really you."
Willow grinned.
"Wow, Giles!" she exclaimed. "You look great! Like - like male underwear model great!"
"Thank you," Giles replied, smiling back. Willow perched on the couch next to Buffy.
"So how'd it happen?" the witch asked.
"It's a spell," Giles explained. "One of Ethan's."
"Why would Ethan cast a spell like that?" Buffy wanted to know. She rose and approached Giles anxiously. "I mean, there's gotta be some catch, right? Like, in two days' time you'll turn blue, or grow a tail or something…"
Giles shook his head.
"There aren't any side effects," he replied. He looked at the others. "I was talking to Ethan last night. He had information about the Initiative." He glanced up at Buffy as he spoke. Buffy remembered why she'd called round in the first place, and scrambled for her apology.
"Giles, about that…" She crouched next to the arm of his chair to look him in the eye. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you about Riley being a commando. It's just… he said not to, and then the guys saw him in his cammies toting a taser and meow, cat outta the bag, and I guess I just forgot you didn't know. Forgive me?"
Giles nodded and gave her a smile.
"If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just name it," Buffy went on. "Like, if you want a hot oil massage or…" She felt the others' eyes on her and covered her reddening face with her hands. "Oh, I *so* didn't mean to say that out loud!"
Anya leaned forward and addressed Giles in a stage whisper.
"I think *someone* would like to see you naked," she declared with an extremely obvious wink. She turned to Xander, beaming proudly. "See what I did there? I used subtlety, instead of saying that if we weren't here, Buffy probably would've jum-"
"Yeah, I saw," Xander interrupted hastily. He kissed her on the forehead. "That was good, Ahn."
Giles chuckled.
"In any case," he continued, "we got talking and… had rather too much to drink…" It was his turn to blush now. "I suppose I was going on about feeling old, because when I woke up this morning I was like this."
Buffy smacked him on the arm.
"You went drinking with Ethan Rayne?!" she exclaimed. "Anything could've happened!"
Giles shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well, it didn't, he replied. "And in any case, he still had information on the Initiative."
"What kind of information?" Buffy asked.
"He says the Initiative is blundering into places it doesn't belong," Giles answered. He looked around at the others. "The demons are terrified. Apparently something called three-fourteen terrifies them the most." He looked back at Buffy. "That's all he could tell me."
There was silence as the others digested this information.
"But, but that can't be right," Willow said timidly. "Riley's one of the good guys!"
"Yeah, are you sure you're not saying this just because you don't like Riley's boss?" Xander asked.
"No!" Giles declared emphatically. He thought for a moment, before amending, "Though I do hate her, quite a lot." He looked at Buffy again. "Ethan's not exactly a reliable source, but I don't think he's wrong about this. Please, just be careful." He looked around the room. "All of you."
"I never liked that Initiative anyway," Anya remarked. "Who do they think they are, locking up demons? Demons have rights too, you know!"
Xander caught Buffy's scowl.
"I'm sure they do, Ahn," he said quickly. "Why don't we go home and you can tell me about it?"
"No, I -" Anya stopped suddenly and stared at Xander. "Oh!" She leaned forward and gave Xander a wink. "Sure, Xander," she went on in a voice that was too loud. "Let's go home and leave Giles and Buffy alone together. Come on, Willow!"
"That's not what I meant -" Xander hurried to explain, casting apologetic looks at both Buffy and Giles, as Anya pulled him out the door.
Willow got up.
"I gotta go anyway," she remarked. "I've got a paper to write for Friday." She grinned shyly at Giles as he got up to see her out. "Bye."
Buffy hung back in the lounge, staring at Giles' rear view as he went with the others to the front door. She almost whined. Had his butt always been so nice and … squeezable?
The door clicked shut and Giles returned to the lounge. He smiled when he saw Buffy still standing there.
"Well, it seems it's just the two of us," he said softly.
Suddenly Buffy didn't trust herself to be alone with him.
"Uh, actually… I, I gotta go patrol," she stammered. He seemed to slump a little. Was that disappointment in his eyes? "Sorry," Buffy added quickly.
"No, no, that's quite all right," Giles said hurriedly. "You, you've got to do what you've, got to do…"
Gratefully, Buffy slipped past him. Her fingers brushed against his thigh, sending tingles through her arm and down into her belly. She sensed him behind her as she headed for the door. He leaned forward and opened it for her.
"You will let me know that you're all right after patrol, won't you?" Giles murmured.
"Sure," Buffy replied. She paused on the doorstep. "Say, Giles - we haven't trained together in a while." He raised an eyebrow quizzically at her. Buffy blushed. "In a long while," she amended. "How about we meet up tomorrow for some hand-to-hand?"
A look of surprise settled over Giles' face, displaced quickly by joy.
"I'd be delighted," he said. "Where?"
"The gym on campus," Buffy answered. "Meet me in the student parking lot. Say, four o'clock?"
"I'll see you then," Giles replied. Buffy grinned, then turned and bounded up the steps.
Giles watched her go, then closed the door after her. He'd never imagined it was possible to be this happy. Buffy wanted him back in her life. And the way she'd looked at him tonight - seeing him as a man and not "just Giles" for the first time in all the years they'd known each other - set his skin on fire. He wondered how on earth he was going to repay Ethan for this.
Something niggled at the back of his mind… a vague sense that something wasn't right. He pushed it away. Four o'clock tomorrow. He glanced up at the clock. Nineteen hours and twenty-three minutes away. What should he wear?
//Calm down, old man, it's not a date,// he chided himself. //You'll wear a tracksuit, and you'll train with her, and there will be no inappropriate touching or behaviour.//
He grinned suddenly.
//Unless she does it first.//
***