Possession
by: Saint Buffy
Rated NC-17
Pairing: B/G
Spoilers: Vague Season Five. No Riley.
Feedback: is the self-raising flour in the cake mix of fic creation
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Distribution: Dee, Gabi, Dword, Dusty, anyone else just ask
Summary: Giles is forced to look for alternative sleeping arrangements when his bed is possessed.
Part 1
Giles grabbed a chair and sat down, keeping an eye on the thing in front of him. It rippled at him threatening. After a while, it quietened down and he reached out hesitantly, picked up a crossbow bolt lying on the floor, and prodded it.
His bed picked itself up off the floor and crashed back down angrily. Giles dropped the bolt and retreated to the top of the stairs, wondering what to do.
He was a man of habit these days. After locking up at the Magic Box, the watcher went home and pottered about, reading, mending weapons, cooking himself dinner and relaxing. This night had been no different, except that Giles decided to go to bed earlier than usual, as Buffy was planning a late patrol and wouldn't be stopping round afterwards. So at around eleven, Giles found a bookmark for his dictionary of Babylonian demons, took a shower and went upstairs to bed.
The only trouble was as soon as he got into bed, he was flung straight out of it again with such force he landed five feet away. For a moment Giles had sat on the floor, confused, then he put it down to stray hellmouth energy and tried again. This time he was thrown the other way, against the railings overlooking the living room downstairs. He hadn't tried again.
Giles stepped forward again, cautiously, towards the bed. It shuddered, rumbling ominously. He took another step.
The covers snapped back reflexively, and the book he had placed on the pillow flew at his head. Giles ducked but still caught a passing blow above his ear as the book whizzed past to thump into his bedroom wall. He clutched at the side of his head, wishing he had chosen a paperback novel to read in bed, instead of the four hundred page hardback volume of retail law. Giles backed towards the stairs, grabbing his dressing gown and a blanket on his way down. If the bed wouldn't have him, he thought absurdly, then the sofa would have to do.
The flat downstairs was dark. Giles shivered as he groped his way towards the sofa, feeling ridiculous. It was warm outside, but the temperature within seemed to have dropped, the scrapings and rumblings of the bed above lending menace to the shadowy corners of Giles's living room. He settled down on the couch, pulling the blanket close around him, and closed his eyes.
The bed must be possessed. There was not a lot Giles could do about it until the morning, he thought, twisting about to try and find a comfortable position on the narrow couch. As he turned, something dug into his hip. Giles dug a hand under his blanket and came up with a long object half-buried in the sofa. A throwing knife. It wasn't one of his- Buffy must have left it behind at some point, leaving it carelessly on his sofa where it would later almost spear him. Giles ran a finger over the soft leather grip absently, then discarded on the coffee table, sneering at himself for getting sentimental over a throwing knife, just because it was one of Buffy's. he would give it back to her in the morning, she would thank him, and later the knife would meet its destiny hilt-deep in a demon's chest.
Lost in thought, Giles almost missed the quiet slicing of air as something was hurled through it at great speed. Movement coming down from the loft. He curled up instinctively, but it was too late, and pain exploded across his head above his left temple, turning his vision red, momentarily paralysing him as he fought to stay conscious. Something else was hurled through and smashed into the table in front of him, followed by a rain of other books. Giles scrambled up and dived behind the couch.
Something wet was trickling down his face. He touched it. Blood. He needed to get out, he realised. Obviously the bed upstairs was more of a threat than he had originally thought. Glancing around, Giles saw his weapons bag lying empty on top of his chest. He took a deep breath.
Clothes and shoes rained down on him as Giles scrambled for clothes and essentials around his living room. Commandeered by the force that had taken over his bed, the handles and fixtures in the loft above became loose and started to hurl themselves at him. Giles scrambled towards the door and out into the warm night.
There is a certain thing a slayer doesn't ever think, because she knows that fate is one for leaping up and biting people in the ass as soon as they think this thing. But if it wasn't for that instinct of self preservation, there was something the slayer would definitely have been thinking. Things were going well. There hadn't been an emergency for ages, and Buffy felt better than she had for ages, since before Riley left town.
She sang to herself as she walked, slayer senses on the alert, patrolling through the last of Sunnydale's cemeteries. "Summertime." she murmured, "And the slaying is easy. Vamps are dying, and the end isn't nigh." She had invented a new trick with a throwing axe in training, and was dying to try it out. "Your daddy's rich, and your ma is a slayer, so hush, little vampire." she couldn't think of a neat way to end her rhyme and hummed the last part indistinctly. Giving a final glance around the graveyard, Buffy decided to quit while she was ahead and head for home.
Giles was waiting for her on the porch as Buffy got back. She sighed to herself.
"I knew it was too good to be true," she muttered, and went to see what was wrong.
Her watcher had a bag at his feet. As Buffy approached, he turned, and she could see that he was holding a bloody handkerchief to his forehead. Buffy gaped in horror, her good mood instantly forgotten.
"What happened?" she demanded, letting them both into the house.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Giles said, taking the cloth away to show a cut on his head, still bleeding steadily. "I just need to clean it up."
"What was it?" she repeated, leading the way up to the bathroom, trying to keep quiet. The house was dark; her family was in bed.
"There's a problem at my flat," Giles said, sounding reluctant. Buffy looked under the sink, found the first aid box, stood up and handed it to him.
"A demon?" she asked. Giles took the box and opened it hesitantly.
"Not exactly." he began. "It's, uh, my bed. My bed is possessed."
Buffy stared at him. "Huh?"
"It threw me out, and when I got back in again it threw me against the railings," Giles elaborated. He began to clean the wound, looking in the mirror. "I went downstairs and tried to sleep on the sofa, but after a while it started to, well, to throw things at me. So I packed a bag and came here."
"Bed possession? How do we stop that?" Buffy wondered, watching him dab awkwardly at his head. "Give me that." She took the gauze from him and started cleaning the wound herself, uncovering bruises beneath the blood, wincing in sympathy as she worked.
"It's really not that bad," Giles said, sitting uncomfortably on the side of the bath. Buffy ignored him and brushed his hair out of the way, gently feeling the lump forming on her watcher's head. His eyes watched hers steadily. He felt warm, but Buffy didn't think he had a temperature, testing his forehead just in case. He leant into her hand slightly, and Buffy felt a small, surprised surge of warmth pass through her. She shook it off and concentrated.
"You didn't lose consciousness?" she pressed eventually, her hand moving back to cup protectively over the wound. Giles shook his head.
"I'm fine," he insisted.
"Funny how I never believe you when you say that," Buffy snapped, then relented. "You want me to cover it?"
"Please," Giles replied, and Buffy turned back to the first aid kit.
"I don't know how we could stop it," Giles said, in answer to her first question. "I suppose we'll have to work on it tomorrow, if it doesn't wear itself out tonight."
Buffy reached in the box for some bandages. "So do you want to sleep here tonight?" she asked. A sudden image of herself and Giles curled up in her bed together rose unbidden in her mind, and she blushed. "On the sofa," she added quickly.
"Thank you," Giles replied, voice tight. They were both silent for a long moment as Buffy finished taping down the bandage.
"There," she said eventually, and stepped back, away from his warm presence. "Should be okay." She shivered and hugged herself.
"Thanks," Giles said again, beginning to pack up the first aid kit.
"I'll find you some blankets," Buffy muttered, and left the room.
She couldn't find him the spare sheets, anywhere, and ended up muddling together a heap of blankets and a pillow from her own bed. Her mom would sort it out in the morning, if Giles had to stay more than the one night.
She handed the blankets over to him, and they stood awkwardly by the stairs.
"Do you have something to sleep in?" Buffy asked, wondering what she could offer. Giles nodded.
"Yes, I, er, grabbed some things before I left," he said, keeping his voice low. They stared at each other for another beat.
"Good night," Giles said eventually.
"Night," Buffy replied, thinking about him sleeping downstairs, on her couch, in her house. "See you tomorrow. We'll get the gang together."
"All right," Giles agreed, and turned towards the stairs. Buffy hesitated for a moment longer then escaped into her bedroom. It was weird to have Giles sleeping in her house, suddenly to be worried about his bedding and night clothes and intimate things like that. Worrying about something other than whether he would survive the next big threat, Buffy thought. She decided it felt nice. He never had anyone worrying about the small things, like that, she thought, with a pang of what felt like guilt.
She changed out of her clothes quickly, wondering about what had happened to Giles's bed. Possession wasn't something she had really come across, as a slayer. She guessed that exorcism would be involved, or something. Slipping on her pyjamas, Buffy opened her door and headed back to the bathroom.
Giles was just coming out of it as she approached. He took a step back, holding the clothes he had been wearing up against his chest.
"Oh," Buffy murmured, aware of her mother and Dawn asleep around them. Dressed only in boxers and a t-shirt, there was more of her watcher on display than Buffy had ever seen before. Her eyes skipped involuntarily over his body, taking in the tattoo on his arm, his firm chest and long, lean legs.
"Well, good night," Giles said, equally awkward. He gave her a shy smile and disappeared back down the stairs, clutching his clothes.
Buffy hurried into the bathroom, wondering what was happening to her. She had been. she really, really had had been checking him out. Checking Giles out. Worse, she had been liking, definitely liking, what she saw. Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Buffy noticed her nipples standing out against her night shirt. Had they been like that when Giles was there? Her eyes widened as she realised that she kinda, in a weird way, hoped they had.
Washing quickly, Buffy dived back towards her bedroom and into bed. As she lay back, waiting for sleep to come, her watcher's presence in the house seemed to throb up the stairs from the sofa below. Buffy shook herself and turned over, wondering what was happening between them, and drifted off to sleep.
Part 2
Buffy was up early the next morning, suspecting that Giles would be awake too. When she got downstairs she felt a stab of disappointment as she noticed he was already dressed, sitting at the kitchen counter.
"Morning," she said sleepily, still in her pyjamas. Giles looked up from the book he was reading and smiled.
"Hello," he said.
"How was the sofa?" Buffy asked, starting breakfast. Giles got up to help her.
"Fine, thank you," he replied, crossing behind her. Buffy felt herself shiver at his nearness, and distracted herself with breakfast things.
"Good morning," a voice said behind them. It was Joyce. "Rupert, you're round here early," she added, sounding surprised. Giles shot Buffy a look, telling her that she could handle her mother however she wanted. Buffy went with the truth.
"Actually, Giles stayed here last night," Buffy said, eyes on the toaster as she loaded it up. "His bed's been possessed by something."
"Oh," Joyce said, unfazed. "Is there some coffee?"
Buffy marvelled at how far her mother had come, accepting things that sounded completely insane without so much as a blink. She and Giles got the meal together quickly, sharing jobs, each seeming to anticipate the others' movements. Joyce sat at the counter, watching them.
"You two act like an old married couple," Buffy's mother said after a while. Buffy glanced at Giles, thinking her mother had read her mind. She tried to act naturally.
"Why?" she managed.
"Just the way you work together, you know, dividing things without having to talk about it." Joyce said with a chuckle, ". Anyone would think you'd been living together for years."
Buffy met Giles's eyes and caught an odd expression in them that made her chest tighten. She shook herself and finished the breakfast.
"It's a slayer-watcher thing, I guess," she said, giving Giles another look. He turned away.
"I imagine it must be," he said, voice light.
They never touched, Buffy realised. All this time spent together and she hardly ever laid a finger on him outside of the training room. Sitting at the counter beside him, their legs brushed together lightly and Giles automatically shifted away. Buffy was disappointed. Maybe if they touched more, she would know what she was feeling about him.
Dawn appeared, blinking sleepily, slopping into the kitchen in Buffy's slippers.
"Hey guys," Dawn said before she noticed Giles. "What are you doing here?"
"Possessed?" Anya asked in amazement. "I've never heard of that before." The gang sat around in the Magic Box, discussing the problem of Giles's bed as he researched. Tired from a night of worrying about his home and his slayer and bending himself into a sofa-friendly shape, Giles was hardly in the mood for the teasing he knew he would receive. The pillow he had been sleeping on had smelt slightly of Buffy, a smell that had involuntarily aroused him, adding an even more unbearable angle to a night of relative hardship. Now lack of sleep and frustration was making him feel tense and irritable.
"Maybe it was pissed about not seeing any action since 1973," Xander joked. Giles glared at him.
"That's hardly accurate," he said mildly. Buffy cleared her throat.
"Whatever it is, we need to find a way to get it out," she said. Willow reached for a book, a thoughtful look on her face.
"It could be a ghost, or a manifestation of something like at the Initiative frat house," she said.
"Or it could be something completely new," Giles finished wearily.
"We went round this morning, and it threw a drawer at Giles," Buffy reported. Giles nodded.
"It's getting stronger. That would point to the presence of a mystical being, rather than pure, thoughtless mystical energy," he finished. The gang nodded, all reaching for some of the books on the table. "We need to find a way to, uh, evict it."
It was late in the afternoon before they made any progress. The crick in Giles's neck was joined by an unspecific pain in his back, and then by a redness and dryness in his tired eyes.
"Ooh," Willow said suddenly, in a period of relative stillness. The gang lifted their heads.
"What?" Buffy asked. Willow waved a hand, reading on quickly. She nodded in satisfaction and looked up.
"It's one of two things," she said confidently. "Either Giles has an infestation of house demons, or it's a trapped spirit that has been displaced."
"Of course," Giles murmured, remembering the demons as Willow spoke.
"House demon?" Xander asked, shutting his own book. Giles cleared his throat.
"Small demons that used to be common in the dark ages," he filled in. "They are born with no physical presence, so grab hold of whatever they can. They would be trying to get out of the house."
"How?" Buffy asked. Giles looked at her.
"By killing the inhabitants. Once they're dead, the demons possess their body to leave the house."
"How do we know it's not just a spirit, though?" Tara asked softly. "Demon expulsion is different to exorcism."
"We could see if the presence attacks anyone else," Willow suggested. "If it's just after Giles, we're dealing with house demons."
"Why's that?" Buffy asked. "Why are they just after Giles?" The note of anger in her voice made Giles look at her, hiding his glance. She was scowling, he thought, touched at her concern.
"House demons are like vampires," Willow explained. "Only they don't need invitations to get in, they need one to get out."
"And they get these `invitations' by killing the occupier," Giles finished dryly. Buffy scowled again.
"Why don't you just invite them out?" she asked. Giles shook his head.
"They would manifest as physical beings. That would not be pleasant," he said shortly.
"We still don't know that it's a house demon that we're dealing with," Xander put in. He stood up. "I'll go over to Giles' and see if I get hit."
"Are you sure?" Buffy asked. "I should go. If something happens, I heal quicker."
Xander shrugged. "Believe me, if something happens, I'll be out of the door so fast the things wouldn't have a chance of hitting me. See you guys in a while."
"I'm going too," Anya said, abandoning her post by the cash register and striding across the shop floor in a way that deterred anyone from arguing with her. She and Xander left the shop, and Giles got up to take over the till.
"Buffy, Willow, you two concentrate on how to banish a house demon. Tara, could you look into exorcism?"
"Okay," Tara said, and the three women bent over their books again.
Giles looked around the training room, wondering if he could set up a fold-up bed in one corner. It didn't seem as if his current domestic situation was going to be solved any time soon, and he really couldn't keep staying at the Summers' house forever. The couch was murdering his back and anyway, the proximity to Buffy was growing unbearable.
He thought he was used to having her so nearly his but yet untouchable. Seeing her with Riley had made things easier, in a way, made it more straightforward. He couldn't have her because the slayer was with someone else. Since the commando had left things had become less clear, less easy to live with. Staying at her house had been a wonderful, sensuous torture. Feeling her hands on his face, smelling her scent on his pillow- it had left him wanting more. Wanting more of the woman he could never have.
It had been good to throw himself into the problem of his bed. The sooner he sorted it out, the sooner things could get back to normal, and having any problem to focus on was a welcome distraction from his slayer.
The door behind him opened. Giles turned to see Buffy coming into the training room.
"Are they back yet?" he asked. She shook her head.
"No. I guess that's good, right? Unless they decided the bed needed more testing." Her face took on a look of horror. "I so didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"I think I shall not understand what you're talking about, for the good of my mental health," Giles replied with a smile. Buffy grinned back and wandered closer to him.
"How's the head?" she asked. Giles frowned for a moment before he remembered the injury he had received the previous night.
"Oh, it's forgotten," he said honestly. Buffy stopped in front of him, and he marvelled at how true that was- her presence had driven everything else from his mind.
"Giles," she began, then stopped. He looked down worriedly at her.
"What is it?" he asked. Buffy stood for a moment, seeming to make up her mind about something.
"Nothing," she said, but stepped forward and slid her arms around his waist, turning her head into his shoulder and holding him tightly.
His arms rose of their own accord and tightened around her back, even before he mind could quite register what was happening. He stared over her head, almost afraid to breathe, wondering why she had suddenly entrusted him with her slight weight, leaning entirely into his body. His arms wrapped closely around her, holding her near, and Giles wondered if he would be able to let her go.
"Are you all right?" he asked eventually, thankful that his voice came out as more than a squeak.
"Mmm," Buffy replied, her head still buried against his jacket. His eyes raked the walls, the ceiling of the training room, desperate. "I just wanted a hug."
"You've, er, never really. I mean, you haven't." She was giggling against him as Giles tried to get his sentence out.
"Stuttery Giles. I haven't heard him for a while," Buffy teased, looking up at him with a fond smile. Giles smiled back down at her, uncontrollably, and then realised the impossible closeness of her mouth to his and stepped back as his body began to react.
"Sorry," he said as she looked surprised. "We should check on progress," he added, and moved towards the door to the shop. Buffy hesitated behind him, and then followed.
Part 3
It had worked. The minute his arms had closed around her, Buffy felt something pass through her she had never experienced before. Peace. The next second his arms tightened and the total calm she had felt turned to fire. He smelled good, felt good against her, his arms heavy, body sheltering, enclosing. It was like being drunk. She had laughed up at him and felt something dark and exciting in the look he had given her back- or had she imagined it? Shame he let go just then. One moment more, and Buffy would have- what would she have done?
Xander and Anya were just returning as they stepped back into the front of the shop. Xander was clutching at his arm.
"Definitely not just Giles," he reported as they settled down. "The thing started throwing stuff at us as soon as we walked in. Giles, you shouldn't keep weapons in your bedroom."
"Are you all right?" he asked worriedly, hovering around the table. Buffy sat down next to Willow as Xander nodded.
"Yeah. I mean I caught a dagger in my arm, but luckily it was the blunt end," he elaborated.
"I didn't like that job," Anya told Giles. "I think you should consider a pay rise if I'm going to have to investigate your evil furniture."
"At least we know it isn't targeting Giles," Tara said, as Giles began to protest. "That means a general dispossession should work."
"No house demons after all," Willow said, sounding surprised.
"We should try the spell during the day, when the presence is weaker," Giles said, sounding reluctant. "At night, it would just be too powerful."
"Is it a hard spell?" Buffy asked. "I mean, could you do it soon or will it take some prep?" She hoped it would take some time- gathering ingredients, looking up spells, while Giles stayed firmly within her own house. Where she knew he was safe, she told herself, knowing she was lying. Where she could keep touching him, keep seeing him in his underwear. That was more truthful.
"It's fairly standard," Willow replied to her disappointment. "We could probably do it tomorrow."
"Hopefully that'll do the trick," Giles said, standing. The others began to get their things together, recognising that the meeting was over. "If not, it means a more powerful force is present."
The group split up for the night, promising to meet the next morning for a final day of furniture based evil fighting. Buffy and Giles drove back to her house in his car- another benefit to him living at her house, she thought.
"Giles?" Buffy asked as they drove.
"Hm?"
"If the spell doesn't work, you could always. you know, get rid of the bed," she said, having only just thought of that idea. Giles sighed.
"I'd rather not," he said. "I've had it for years. It's the only piece of furniture that has survived from my parents' house."
"I always wondered why you didn't throw it out after. after." She felt herself flounder and waved a hand.
"After Jenny?" Giles filled in softly. She nodded, keeping her eyes out of the window. "I thought about it, but in a way that would have meant that he had won, completely."
No need to ask who `he' was. Feelings came over her so quickly, Buffy felt that for a moment she was back in the past, living the nightmare of Angel's change over again.
"I'm sorry," she said after a while. Giles was quiet.
"I know."
After supper, Buffy headed out on patrol, planning to sweep the outer parts of town as she had concentrated on the centre of Sunnydale the night before. Halfway through the industrial district, she came across an over familiar sight- a man lying dead on the ground, his neck and chest slashed with claw marks. Buffy sighed and looked around, searching for a trace of the creature responsible. Soon she found a trail of claw marks in the dirt of an alley, and set off, following the demon's marks.
It was remarkably hard to catch, for a man-killing demon. The slayer searched for hours, coming across an ambulance dealing with another victim, thankfully still alive, and several frightened people before she eventually tracked the demon down to a park near her own house. It died fairly quickly, and Buffy decided that was more than enough for one night.
Giles was up and waiting for her when she got back. He jumped up as she came in.
"Buffy! Are you all right?" he asked, hurrying towards her. Buffy nodded and eased her jacket off her arm, where the demon had got in a lucky claw.
"I'm fine. This demon took a little finding, but I got it in the end," she reported. Giles's eyes widened as he saw the scratch on her arm.
"Let me see," he said, taking her arm almost roughly, guiding her with a hand on her hip so he could see the cut in the light. Buffy felt the hand on her arm trembling and her eyes widened. "You should have called me," he continued, eyes on her arm. "I could have picked you up in the car, or helped you track it, or-"
"Giles," she said, stopping him. "It's nothing," she said, speaking slowly to calm him down. "They'll be gone in the morning," she added, referring to the scratches. Giles looked down at her arm and then released her, stepping back.
"I'm sorry. It's just- you're back so late, I was worried," he said with a sheepish laugh.
"It was just a long patrol. Late nights are a slayer's whatever," she said, watching him, worried herself. Giles met her eyes, still looking red.
"I'm beginning to understand that," he said.
She wanted to hug him, to reassure him and herself. "I'm going to bed," she said instead, and gave him a light shove. "You should too. You look exhausted."
"I am quite tired," Giles admitted. Buffy glared at him, losing her temper slightly.
"Then you should have gone to bed, for God's sake," she snapped. He glared back at her.
"How could I, when-" he stopped himself. "I wanted to make sure you were all right."
"It was just a late patrol! God, Giles, you'll have to get used to it if-" Buffy realised what she was saying and choked on her words. "Get used to it. I have." She softened her tone. "You need to look after yourself, as well."
Giles met her eyes, seeming to wrestle with himself over something. "I'm sorry," he said eventually. "I didn't mean to scare you."
She looked away, feeling uncomfortable. It wasn't all about the way she felt when his arms were around her, she realised. There would be pain at some point, probably for both of them, and endless worry of the kind she had seen tonight. The question was not whether there would be more pain, but whether the pain would be worth it.
Buffy hesitated for a second longer, wanting to say something but she wasn't sure what.
"I shouldn't have yelled," she muttered in reply. "I just. I worry about you, too, you know."
Their eyes met for a long moment before Giles looked away, taking his glasses off and studying them in his hands.
Buffy turned towards the stairs, went up, and got ready for bed.
They stood in a line in front of the house, a strange sight. They were all wearing mountain climbing gear rented from a shop in town, all covered in arm and leg guards and pressed into helmets, staring at Giles's flat as if it was Kilimanjaro. Giles sighed.
"We'd better get on with it," he said. The others nodded reluctantly.
"You all know your jobs," Buffy said brusquely, moving closer to the door. "We get in, we lay the candles and get the hell out as fast as possible."
"No arguments about that part," Xander said nervously. They crept closer to the door. Inside, something fell and smashed noisily.
"My flat," Giles mourned.
"On three." Buffy grabbed hold of the door handle and everyone tensed. "One, two, three!"
They burst in and split apart. Buffy and Giles headed straight upstairs whilst the others ran to light candles at strategic points around the room below.
It was stronger. Heavy furniture picked itself up and rumbled, the presence almost lifting one stuffed bookcase off the ground before it thumped back down again as Giles and Buffy passed. They raced up to the loft. Giles set about lighting the candles as Buffy hovered, knocking the worst of the projectiles away from them both.
"Got it," Giles said eventually, and they turned to run back downstairs. Willow and Tara were already outside, and Xander and Anya followed a moment later, Anya nursing a long wound on her leg.
"Definitely a pay rise," she muttered.
"Candles all lit?" Giles asked. The others nodded. "Right."
Willow stepped forward and began the incantation. Giles watched the house as the witch spoke, feeling the menace inside bubble up in response to the mystical call. Tara joined in for the chant, speaking in precise unison with Willow. No wonder the spell partners were also lovers, Giles thought, feeling the correlation of the women's magic beneath their words.
Something was wrong. He felt it a moment before Willow faltered.
"Get down!" she yelled, suiting her own words by pulling her and Tara to the floor.
Buffy threw herself on top of Giles as a storm cloud of dark magic burst out of his apartment, shattering the windows and blowing the door off. Shards of glass whizzed over them and she felt something sticking into her, but already Giles was scrambling to get up.
"The other spell," he said urgently. "Quick!"
Tara threw a bag of ingredients over to Giles. This was a spell he had to perform himself, Buffy remembered. The watcher fumbled in the bag and withdrew a handful of herbs and small stones.
He began to speak in a language Buffy only vaguely recognised. This wasn't a exorcism rite, but a re-possessing spell, designed to assert the natural order of things. Giles barked a last phrase and hurled the mess he held through the open door.
The blast knocked them all off their feet again. Lying flat down, it took Buffy a moment to distinguish the ringing in her ears and the flashes in her sight from the calm outside. She lifted her head.
"We did it!" Willow said, getting to her feet. Everything was quiet.
"Go team," Buffy replied, standing up, feeling the odd anticlimax that followed a battle with no real kill. She gave a hand to help Giles up and turned towards the apartment. The gang gingerly stepped back inside, pulling off their climbing gear.
It was completely trashed. Not even the siege of the Chumash warriors could compete with the level of destruction they saw- books scattered everywhere, broken bottles, windows smashed, the couch ripped to shreds. Giles stood helplessly, poking around, lifting things and letting them drop. Buffy watched, wanting to reach out to him.
"It's like an earthquake's hit," Anya said, almost cheerfully. "Or worse."
"We'll all help you, you know, make it better," Willow said encouragingly.
"Definitely," Tara added. Giles smiled weakly at them.
"Thank you," he said. They looked round the mess in silence for a while, trying to assess the damage.
"I don't think it's too bad," Giles said eventually, sounding surprised. "Most of the books are still intact, and none of my favourite things are broken."
"It'll be fine once we tidy it up," Buffy decreed. "We'll get started on it tomorrow."
The other Scoobies began to file out of the condo, picking their way out. Buffy hesitated, watching Giles.
"Come on," she said. "Let's go home."
He turned to her with an odd expression on his face. Buffy blushed. "You know. My home."
"Of course," he said, and they headed towards the car in silence.
Buffy sat back beside him as they began to short journey back to Revello Drive. Giles's driving had improved in direct relation to the improvement in his transport, she thought absently, shifting slightly so she could look at him without being too obvious. He watched the road, a distant look on his face.
"I'm sorry we couldn't get the thing sooner," Buffy said eventually. Giles glanced round towards her.
"It couldn't be helped," he said calmly, but his eyes slid back to the road before she had a chance to read them.
They pulled up in front of Buffy's house, parking easily. Neither of them moved to get out of the car.
"Buffy." Giles said eventually. Her heart rate picked up at the tone of his voice.
"Yes?" He looked at her.
"Last night," he began, and her heart sank. She didn't want to talk about it. How could she explain that she had realised that there was a downside to falling for him?
Falling for Giles? Where had that come from?
"What?" she said.
"I realise I overreacted when you were late back," he said. Buffy nodded silently, wondering where the conversation was going. "I'm sorry. Apart from anything else, it's really none of my business, waiting up for you to get in at night." His voice was closed. Buffy frowned.
"Oh. Okay," she said, and got out of the car.
Giles followed her towards the house as Buffy opened the door. He stopped her as they were going in.
"Dawn? Mom?" Buffy yelled. There was no reply. "They must still be shopping," she assumed.
"Er, yes," Giles said uncertainly. Buffy walked ahead of him, into the kitchen, avoiding eye contact. None of his business. What if she wanted it to be his business, she thought, brushing off a part of her that said she was being hypocritical. She wanted him to worry about her, but she didn't want to feel guilty that she made him worry.
"Buffy?" he followed her through the house.
"Yes?" She met his eyes. He was looking at her, a hurt, confused expression on his face, and the coldness she had been feeling towards him a moment ago melted at the sight. She sighed.
"I want it to be your business," she said. He frowned. "When I get in. I want- I want you to be there when I get in," she said. Giles stepped forward, closing the gap between them.
"What are you saying?" he asked, his gaze capturing hers.
"I want to worry about- about your sheets and breakfast and small things like that," Buffy continued, more for her own sake than his. "As well as whether you're going to get through the next big threat." It was all coming out, for better or worse, she thought, her heart racing. Blood was thundering through her so hard she couldn't see straight. She kept her eyes focused on his face. "I want you."
He gaped. "I'm sorry?"
He looked so comically shocked, Buffy couldn't help a quick laugh, the tension in her body momentarily relieved. "Want me?"
She took another step forward, calm now. The decision had been made. She knew he felt the same way- it was knowledge, not arrogance, she confirmed- his head leaning against her hand as she felt his temperature, the trembling worried hand on her arm, the warmth of his hug, the flash of something she had seen in his eyes. Their mutual co-ordination. She smiled up at him. He was beautiful.
One more step. His head bowed towards hers, even though his face was disbelieving. Buffy slid an arm around his neck, shut her eyes, and pressed her lips to his.
His arms folded around her, as they had in the training room, only he pulled her closer, held her tighter. Their lips searched, discovering corners and contrasts, caressing, learning each other. He tilted her head gently and Buffy responded, pushing herself up onto her toes to get closer. The kiss deepened as they began to lose themselves in it, mouths opening, hands roaming.
Buffy's eyes opened, sweeping blindly over the kitchen. She saw the clock on the wall as they stumbled backwards and closed them again as they crashed softly into the kitchen counter.
Part 4
They woke up at the same time, both jolted awake by the same crash as Dawn knocked something over in the bathroom. For a moment Buffy lay completely still, eyes wide, heart racing, feeling Giles tense equally behind her.
He was still in the bed. Buffy cursed inwardly. They had intended for Giles to have relocated back to the sofa in the early hours, so as not to arouse the suspicions of the house. But that hadn't happened. Buffy reflected that hours of passionate love, first in the kitchen, of all places, then upstairs in her room, didn't lead to an early start the next day.
During the night they had somehow tangled together so much that she wondered how she hadn't woken. His arms were wrapped around her, one curled beneath her neck and stretched out along her pillow to where their hands were joined. His other arm was wrapped around her stomach, so snugly it curved right round under her, pulling her close. Buffy's fingers were entwined over his here too; her head was snuggled against his shoulder, turned into him, his chin resting against the curve of her neck. Even their legs were interlocked.
The sudden flaring between her thighs was echoed in the hardness pressed into Buffy's backside. Buffy resisted the temptation to press herself even closer against him, to tease the naked heat she felt against her skin. They lay still, neither wanting to admit to being awake and therefore deal with the reality of their waking.
Eventually Giles cleared his throat. Buffy turned around to see his face and they untangled slightly, both with the same careful look in their eyes. They stared at each other in silence as Joyce began to yell at Dawn over whatever breakage had occurred.
"Buffy," Giles murmured, not letting go of her despite the almost comic, desperate look on his face. The argument outside rose to another level as they drew together, cautiously. Buffy tried to read the expression in Giles's eyes but all she saw was his attempt to do the same. Another crash made them flinch slightly as Buffy turned around slowly in the bed, facing him fully, and their mouths met for a cautious kiss.
The last shreds of sleep were swept from her mind as Buffy's mouth met his. Her eyes closed, body moving blindly against his to find a way to be closer. Giles's hand ran down her spine, then back up, slowly, his warm mouth taking hers over and over in light touches. Buffy sucked in a breath, her hand groping up his side to lace her fingers into his hair as they deepened the kiss, mouths opening together, exploring and caressing. The heat between them increased until Giles pushed her down into the bed, following her, rolling on top and kissing her harder as the familial dispute raged on outside the door.
They broke apart, breathing heavily, and Buffy looked up into his face, stroking his hair as he stared down at her in wonder. Distantly she heard Dawn's voice rising, delivering a final shot before her bedroom door slammed and her footsteps stomped around the room. Giles seemed barely to notice the noise, touching Buffy's face tenderly, the tips of his fingers tracing over her features, and lowered his head to brush soft kisses over her.
He brushed her mouth again and they kissed, limbs tangling, filled with urgency and tenderness. The only sound in the room was the soft rush of the sheets around them, the sudden inhalations of breath as a hand strayed or lingered. Outside the room, the pipes rattled as Joyce went into the shower; a dog barked in the street below, and the tree in the garden rustled gently in the wind.
"They'll know you're in here, by now," Buffy murmured. Giles took her hand in his and began to kiss his way up the underside of Buffy's arm, biting gently into the soft skin.
"Yes," he replied, his tone equally muted, mouth curving round to kiss her shoulder. Buffy curled her arm around his head.
"So we're not caring about that then," she prompted. Giles's head rose to look at her.
"Do you?" he asked, voice still low.
"No," she said. "I mean, I wasn't expecting that we would sleep so late, or." she fluttered her hand between them. "And it's a little strange." He looked away, fingers suddenly fascinated with the corner of the sheet. She cupped his face to bring his eyes back to hers. "Giles. A little strange, but it's." she couldn't find the right words, and shrugged. "Us."
He smiled. In the background, the persistent banging on a door signified the start of the second round of mother-daughter conflict. His head bent back down, and they kissed again, harder.
The arousal they both already felt was intensified as his sleep-warm body came down against hers. Buffy felt her back arch involuntarily, her heels sliding up the bed around his legs. Giles's hand slid around to her back, stroking her skin as his other hand cupped her face. Buffy broke away from his mouth to kiss his face, his neck. She let her hands run over him, feeling the strength and warmth she had delighted in during the night.
"I love you," she said, not for the first time. He lifted her face back up and kissed her again.
"I'm yours," he replied. The familiar dispute outside grew fainter, the protagonists moving downstairs. Giles's hand strayed to her breast, and Buffy moaned softly, pushing herself up into his hand.
They kissed again, more intensely, moving more urgently. His mouth followed his hand, mouthing soft kisses round the skin of first one breast then the other. Buffy raked a hand over his back, one foot rubbing against his long leg as his mouth moved down her stomach, brushing over the soft skin above her sex.
"Giles," she murmured, as softly as she could manage. "Now." Her hands were grabbing at his shoulders, trying to bring him back up, her legs wide and hungry for him. He moved up quickly, pushing her hips down, and settled himself over her, showering kisses on her face. Buffy kissed every inch of skin that came before her, so absorbed in the smell and taste of him she cried out in soft surprise when the tip of his cock entered her.
He pushed himself in slowly, fitting more smoothly then he had the first time. Buffy held her breath, wondering if she would ever get used to the feeling of him inside her, his wide, hot shaft in welcome completion with her body. She let the breath out and they started thrusting, moving as slowly as she could bear, then faster as she began to lose control.
Giles kissed her neck and shoulders, braced above her on his elbows. "I love you so much," he said, thrusting his hips harder against her. Buffy could hardly speak, hardly think, concentrated totally on the feel of his body on hers, the passionate hush of his breath, the urgent hardness inside her. He thrust again, deeply, and Buffy came, clutching at his arms and backside, waves of joy soaking through her.
He waited tenderly while Buffy gasped for breath, her muscles sedated, wondering if she would ever be able to move again. A testing thrust answered her question, as she tilted her hips for him again, more focused this time on his pleasure than hers. His built pace quickly, small groans of pleasure escaping him with every stroke. Buffy watched his face almost wonderingly, amazed that she was the source of his happiness, that they could give each other so much. She was caught by surprise as he changed angle, pushing his cock over her clitoris and almost making her scream out loud. Buffy swallowed the shout as Giles grinned down at her, repeating the stroke, harder, then his eyes shut, his face hardened, his body coming down against hers and they were both grabbing at each other's skin desperately as they came together.
For a moment Giles lay on top of her, completely spent, his body heavy and relaxed, damp with sweat. Buffy wrapped her arms around him and lay back, feeling the blessed weight of her lover and thinking of nothing but the simple pleasure of being with him. Then Giles stirred.
"No," Buffy complained softly as he slid out of her. He gave her a quick consoling kiss.
"We should get up," Giles said apologetically, rolling to one side. Buffy sighed.
"I guess," she said reluctantly. They kissed again, mouths lingering, then Buffy broke away. "Shower," she murmured, sitting up. Giles lay back, watching her sleepily. Buffy smiled at him, slipping on her bathrobe, and went to the bathroom.
Everything was quiet downstairs. Buffy showered quickly, hoping she could avoid her mother until both she and Giles were showered and dressed appropriately. Or maybe until they were married. Or when the first baby came along. She heard a footstep in the hall below as she tried to slip back towards her room, and darted through the door as her mother's voice wafted up the stairs.
"Buffy?"
She shut the door quietly.
Giles was asleep on the bed, still half sitting up in bed, his head lolling on his neck. The covers were pulled up loosely around his waist, leaving his chest bare, the tattoo on his arm showing clearly. Buffy smiled, still standing by the door, taking in the sight of her watcher. Her love, sprawled and content in her bed. She half wanted to pull him into her arms, wake him up, kiss his face and his mouth and take his nipples, showing up against his pale skin, and taste them again. And she half wanted to carry on watching him sleep for as long as she could, learning every detail of him until it was lodged in her heart.
"Buffy?" her mother's voice was closer, still carrying lingering anger from her fight with Dawn. Buffy took another long took at Giles, and wondered why she was hiding. She was far from ashamed at having him in her bed, she thought, feeling a surge of quiet pride. He was hers, and she was his. That was all that counted.
Quietly, Buffy opened the door and slipped out, shutting it behind her.
"Hey Mom," she said.
"Morning, Buffy," Joyce said, hesitating in the hallway. She nodded towards Buffy's bedroom. "Is. is Rupert.?" Her hand waved at the bedroom door.
"Yeah," Buffy said, awkwardly. Her mom's eyebrows rose, and she swallowed.
"Oh," she said, obviously trying for casual, but missing the mark by miles. Mother and daughter exchanged an awkward smile. "And did you guys manage to sort out his bed?"
"Yeah, it's all his," Buffy said, keeping her voice quiet.
"And the rest of his apartment?" Joyce asked in a whisper, still giving the bedroom door the occasional look. Buffy nodded.
"Yeah. It's a mess, but it's his." Sounds of someone moving around in Buffy's room reached them both, and Joyce moved away as Buffy turned back towards the door, smiling to herself. "It's all his."
The End