Say It
by: Saint Buffy
Rated NC-17
Spoilers: S5, sometime after Intervention but before Tough Love.
Pairing: B/G
Feedback: No, I hate the stuff. Really. Really I do.
Disclaimer: They ain't mine. Sue me not.
Summary: Buffy begins to wonder why Giles has never told her that he loves her.
Buffy watched the reflection in the dark kitchen window as she washed up. Anyone looking in could be forgiven for thinking they were spying on a scene of domestic- well, if not bliss, certainly harmony. She washed and handed the plate out as Giles reached for it, dried it and put it away. Buffy smiled grimly.
"What?" Giles asked immediately. She rinsed off a pan and turned to him, briefly wondering how he never seemed to miss the barest of flickers in her face, even when half the time his back was turned away as he moved around the kitchen.
"I was just thinking, how weird it is that we learnt to be all co- ordinated in battle, and here we are being co-ordinated in the kitchen," Buffy explained, then felt that her words had conveyed something other than she meant. Giles cleared his throat and took the pan.
"You never know when such skills will be useful," he said, wiping it diligently, eyes on his work. Buffy turned back to the sink. "I know I keep asking you this, but how are you feeling?" he asked after a moment. Buffy spared him a smile.
"Better, thank you," she said. "Confused, since my extra-spooky chat in the desert, but better."
"Good," Giles said as he dried the last dish.
Buffy yawned as they walked through to the living room. He picked up on it, as always.
"I should be going," he said. Buffy reached out to stop him.
"Stay," she implored. "I can't just let you cook again then throw you out of the house." Giles smiled down at her, but reached for his jacket anyway.
"You can. You look tired- I'll see you tomorrow." This was the beginning of the same short conversation they had gone through at the end of almost every night since her mother's death.
Buffy reluctantly opened the door. "Thanks for cooking," she said, smiling up at him.
"If you need to talk, or anything, just call," Giles repeated, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder briefly, and Buffy nodded.
"I will. Thank you," she said, and he smiled and left.
Dawn came down the stairs as Buffy turned back into the house.
"He's gone?" she asked with a scowl. Buffy nodded.
"Uh huh. Did you speak to Dad?"
"No, big surprise," Dawn said, and pushed past to go into the living room. They had spent the day, yet again, trying to contact Mr Summers and failing. Buffy bit back her own disappointment and went through to speak to Dawn.
"I'm sure he'll call back once he gets our message." She sat on the arm of the sofa.
"Messages, Buffy," Dawn snapped. "I think five hundred count as the plural."
Buffy looked down at her sister, who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Dawn folded her arms. "They all leave us. Dad, Mom, everyone."
"That's not true," Buffy said, sliding down onto the couch. It was strange to be at the other end of this conversation, but at least the replies were familiar. "Dad loves us. You know Mom did. And we've still got the gang." Buffy slipped her arm around her sister's shoulder and sighed as Dawn's head came to rest against her shoulder. "We've got Giles."
Dawn snorted. "Yeah right. He runs out as soon as he can every night."
Buffy glared down at the back of her sister's head. "He does not. He just wants to leave us in peace." Dawn sat up again with an answering glare.
"He can't get out of here quick enough!" she replied stubbornly. Buffy shook her head.
"Giles loves us," she said. Dawn folded her arms. "He does."
"How do you know? He's paid to be here. He only hangs out with us because you're the slayer."
"That's not-" Buffy was going to say, true, but her sister's words had somehow insinuated themselves with some unacknowledged thoughts the slayer had suppressed over the years. Dawn raised an eyebrow, sensing triumph.
"All right then," Dawn said. "When did he ever tell you that he loves you?"
Buffy looked back, still momentarily struck dumb. Her mouth shut into a hard line.
"Giles loves me. I know he does," she said stubbornly, but Dawn just shook her head.
"Whatever," the younger girl said, and got up. "I'm going to bed."
Buffy sat by herself for a long while after Dawn disappeared. Words came back to her, things Giles said over the years… She had been too angry and freaked out at the time to register those words. She remembered looks, touches, hugs, like when her mother… when he found Joyce, and leapt up to hold Buffy strangely, as if he was trying to put his body between Buffy and the reality of her mother's death. What else? He had given her words of pride, of congratulations, but Dawn was right. He had never said it.
Buffy scowled and stood up. She was the one who had Giles's pay reinstated, not him, and he had stayed even when fired. And why had he been fired? Because he loved her. Even Travers had seen it, Buffy thought triumphantly, heading up the stairs to get ready for bed. So what if he never said it.
"He never says it," Buffy complained to Willow, sitting at the table in the Magic Box. Willow looked back at her, confused.
"But, Buffy, I don't go around saying, `do you want tea or coffee and by the way, you know I love you' either. But I do, by the way."
Buffy patted her friend's hand. "I love you too, Will. And you have told, me, before… I know you have. He's never said it. Even Xander's said it."
"What?" Xander said, from the counter where he was talking to Anya.
"Never mind," Buffy and Willow replied automatically. Willow scratched at the table hesitantly.
"Buffy, you remember when Dracula was in town?" the witch asked. Buffy nodded. "And you were in his-" Buffy gave her a thump on the arm, "-er, you talked to Dracula, and then you realised that you wanted to know more about being a slayer and you-"
"I know what you're referring to, Will," Buffy cut in before her friend to babble on.
"Well, before you asked Giles to be your watcher again, he…" Willow sighed. "He told me not to tell you this. Many times, in fact."
"Tell me what?"
Willow hesitated one last time. "He was going to go back to England. But he didn't, because you asked him to be your watcher again."
Buffy stared blankly at the Magic Box shelves, remembering the look on Giles's face that day. "Oh," she said eventually.
"He loves you, Buffy," Willow said reassuringly. "Really."
Just then, the object of their discussion burst into the shop, sending the bell ringing mercilessly and crossing in a few angry strides to the shop counter.
"Any luck?" Xander asked as Giles approached. The watcher shook his head.
"I don't know why I bothered talking to that idiotic waste of a demonic existence," he spat bitterly. "Another minute with him and I would have ripped his tongues from his bloody heads, reformed or no."
Buffy, Willow and Xander shuddered at the imagery; Anya merely shrugged.
"I told you there was no point talking to a Froebayl demon," she said. "Can't be trusted. Once I got one to rip the flesh from the arms of an adulterous husband, but instead it disappeared with the gold before it had done the job."
"I bet that taught you to venge for yourself," Xander said cheerfully. Buffy smiled to herself, wondering how Xander managed to be so calm about his girlfriend's former employment.
"No new news about Glory?" she asked Giles as he went to make some tea. He shook his head.
"None, unfortunately," he said, and sighed. "I'm running out of sources. The Froebayl was something of a last-ditch effort."
Buffy watched as he made the tea, the tense lines in his shoulders loosening as his body went through the familiar movements. Like tai chi for English watcher people, she thought fondly. Only with caffeine. He took another cup out and turned to Buffy.
"Buffy, do you want tea or coffee, and by the way…" Buffy sucked in a breath as his words echoed Willow's, "I forgot to pick up some milk. Sorry."
Buffy let the breath out as Willow gave her a sympathetic look. "Black coffee would be great, Giles," Buffy said, and then decided to try something. "You always make it just right. How do you always know what I want?" she asked, trying for a half-fond, half- casual tone. Giles gave her an odd look and turned back to the kettle.
"Years of practise, I imagine," he said a little stiffly, and looked around the room. "Anyone else for tea?" No one did. "And how was progress here?" he continued, almost hopefully, to be answered with a chorus of shaking heads.
"But we weren't trying that hard," Anya added helpfully. Willow pulled a random volume towards herself hastily.
"We're trying now," she said, opening it up. Buffy stood.
"Want to do some training?" Buffy asked Giles. He looked back at her in surprise.
"Are you sure?" he said. Buffy shrugged.
"Yeah. I mean, I've got to stay in shape. The world hasn't stopped just because, you know…" she trailed off uncomfortably. "And you look like you could use a good-" she stopped herself, unable to think of anything Xander and Anya wouldn't be able to interpret sexually. "Let's go."
She picked up her mug and marched into the back room before he could say anything else.
Buffy started her stretches, trying to hide the small smile on her face. She had taken Psych 101. There was no way Giles would be able to avoid telling her how he felt about her- telling her that he loved her- once she had started with him. She ran through various strategies in her mind, testing their worth as she tested her muscles. Then she straightened as Giles finished laying out the mats.
"I thought you might like to spar first, to get back into it," he suggested gently. Buffy flashed him a bright smile and took the staff he offered.
"That sounds great," she said, and they got into positions.
"Whenever you're read-" he began, but Buffy started circling, trying to catch him off balance.
"So, Giles," she said, feinting to the left, "Did you have fun in England?"
He looked up, caught off guard by her words, and Buffy almost landed a blow from the right. He caught it with another blow.
"Why do you ask?"
Buffy changed direction, coming in with a series of short, chopping blows.
"No reason. Just asking," she replied sweetly. Giles gave her a look and stepped back as he defended her attacks.
"Not especially," he said in answer to the question. "I spoke with the Council, as you know, checked on my affairs over there, that sort of thing." He spoke calmly, cutting across her attack with a slice from the left. Buffy backed off slightly, then saw an opening and moved in.
"Did you miss us?" she asked next. Giles glanced away from her staff long enough for Buffy to sneak in and catch his side.
"Of course I did," he replied, conceding the point. They moved back into the `guard' position. Buffy waited until he started circling, biding her time. Finally she struck in with a blow by his belt.
"I would have thought you'd be pleased to be away from all of us for a while," she said, keeping her voice light. Giles blocked her blow and sent her a glare. "Or glad to be away from the hellmouth, at least," Buffy amended. She scored a light touch and Giles backed away.
"I would have been," Giles admitted, circling more warily. "But I hated to be away when everything's so…" He jabbed in and Buffy blocked. "I was worried."
"You went to help with the Glory thing," Buffy answered gently. "You did help."
Giles struck again, moving the fight back towards the centre of the mat. "I meant, while you were hurting over Riley, and worried about Dawn and everyone." The `Joyce' syllable in the word `everyone' was obvious. Buffy smiled up at him and retaliated, driving Giles back.
"You worry about me?" she asked, feeling that she was getting close to the admission she sought. Giles's look grew even more confused.
"Of course I do, Buffy," he said warmly, shaking his head in confusion. Here it was, Buffy thought, and went to land her final blow.
"Why?" she asked, pushing forward again.
"Because I care about you, and-"
Buffy was so caught up in the moment, anticipating his answer, that she missed his staff sweeping low to catch her foot as she moved forward, and fell headlong to the floor.
"Are you alright?" he asked, bending to help her up. Buffy took his hand and stood, her face flushing with embarrassment.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
The staves hung at their sides, forgotten as watcher and slayer looked at each other, trying to assess each other's stares.
"And what?" Buffy demanded, feeling that she was in embarrassment stepped in so far that to go back would be as tedious as going on.
"I'm sorry?" Giles replied, and Buffy realised that her fall had dislodged the thread of their conversation from his mind. She scowled.
"Never mind," she said. She put the staff down, turned, and stalked out of the back room.
*-*-*-*-*-*
Giles strode into the front part of the shop in time to hear Buffy mutter "he didn't say it" to Willow as she passed. Before he could react, the slayer had picked up her bag and stormed out of the shop.
He stared after her, open mouthed, then looked around at the others.
"What did I…" Giles began, then decided that he probably didn't want to know what he had done to offend his slayer. "I'm going to tidy up."
He turned and went back into the back room.
Ever since Joyce's death, Giles had been trying to fill in gaps. He'd been trying to carry the weight of Buffy's duty as a slayer, mainly by hunting out possible leads to Glory's location and researching ways to defeat her. He had been spending time at Buffy's house, helping with the cooking and cleaning and trying to lead Buffy gently into her new role as the figure of responsibility in her household, trying to abate the blow of her mother's death by lessening the day to day signs, the missing laundry and undone supper, that reminded Buffy that Joyce was gone.
But more than that, Giles had been trying to fill in the gaps in Buffy's behaviour, to piece together the way she was coping with her current trials. She seemed to be doing a little better since her talk in the desert, but still something seemed to be missing inside the slayer. He could tell that the spirit guide's final words, `death is your gift', had not solved the way the slayer felt about her ability to love. Her behaviour during training had been enough to prove that; Giles knew that Buffy had wanted something from him, but he couldn't for the life of him work out what.
If only she would ask him straight out, about whatever was bothering her, he thought. She should know by now that if it was within his power to grant, Giles could hardly keep anything from his slayer. He smiled at the thought, stacking the mats in a corner of the back room. If only she knew how much he loved her, he thought, at least she would know that anything she wanted from him, any answer or promise or whatever she had been angling for, anything was within her grasp.
Giles packed up the last of their training equipment and sighed to himself, pushing open the door to the front of the shop.
"Any progress?" he asked as he stepped through.
Buffy sighed as someone knocked on the door later that evening. It would be Giles, she knew, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to deal with him yet after her outburst at the shop. Especially as Dawn was staying at a friend's house, and wouldn't be there to direct conversation away from the slayer.
Buffy went to open the door.
"Hello," he said, as if nothing was wrong. He lifted a bag of groceries. "I've brought supper."
"Come in," Buffy said, grateful that he wasn't acting awkwardly.
"I'll go and get started, shall I?" Giles offered, moving towards the back of the house. Buffy hesitated, then slowly followed him into the kitchen.
"Sorry about earlier," she said awkwardly, hands behind her back. Giles looked up from unloading the grocery bag and gave her an awkward smile.
"Want to tell me, um, what it was about?" he asked gently. Buffy leant against the kitchen door.
"Can I help you with anything?" she asked instead of answering his question. He gave her a look but pulled some tomatoes out of the bag.
"You could chop these," he said, and Buffy moved further into the kitchen.
Supper was quiet. Giles was a good cook- unsurprisingly, Buffy reminded herself, as he had been looking after himself for years- but she didn't feel very hungry. She watched him as Giles talked about the customers at the Magic Box, eyeing him carefully for hints of love in the way he looked at her. Nothing stood out from Giles's usual understated demeanour, and as the meal wore on, Buffy grew increasingly dissatisfied. The watcher had a huge sense of responsibility, Buffy knew; he had given her lectures on the subject often enough in high school. What if that was all that kept him here? Duty towards the hellmouth, towards her?
He had asked a question. Buffy pulled herself out of her thoughts with some difficulty.
"Huh?" she answered. Giles put his fork down and pushed his plate to one side. "Sorry, I was listening," Buffy said hurriedly. "Anya thinks you should-"
"Tell me what's wrong." His voice was firm. Buffy pushed her plate away.
"It's nothing."
"Then tell me," he asked again, more gently. His eyes appealed to her. "Why did you run out earlier? Was it something I did?"
"No," Buffy replied, then sighed. "I just… I was talking to Dawn, last night, and she asked about- I mean, it got me thinking that-" She stopped and fiddled with her cutlery, trying to find the right words.
"What, Buffy?" he asked. She didn't respond, and Giles leant over to tilt up her chin, gently forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Giles," she began, looking into the depths of his green eyes. "Do you love me?"
His hand dropped from her chin.
"What?"
"I… Dawn- she was angry, and feeling abandoned, I guess, but she was saying that you were only here because you had to be, because you're my watcher."
"That's not-" he stopped himself, then continued. "You know that's not true."
"I know, but I just wanted to hear it from you," Buffy said, feeling acutely aware of the fact that he still hadn't said it.
"Why?" he asked.
"Tell me you love me," she pressed. Giles looked down at the table for a long time.
"I can't," he said eventually, his voice so low Buffy barely caught it. She stared at him for a second, then leapt up, her chair crashing to the floor, and stormed out for the second time that day.
As soon as she was in her room, Buffy started crying. She flopped down on her bed, sobs erupting out of her, yet even as she cried a part of her wondered why it hurt her so much that Giles didn't love her. She felt as if he had ripped a part of her out. Yesterday, just to have Giles's love for her questioned had been enough to unbalance; today, he had knocked her down completely. Buffy curled up on the bed, her chest heaving in painful blasts.
Quietening down, Buffy began to hear Giles moving around below. He was clearing up, she thought. A while later she heard his tread on the stairs and tensed.
He pushed the door open carefully.
"Buffy?"
"Go away," she said, feeling immature. Giles came in.
"Please," he said, sitting down on her bed. Buffy felt the bed dip and curled up even more, facing away from him. Giles laid a cautious hand on her shoulder. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but a lot of what you're feeling is-" he stopped as Buffy sat up.
"Don't. Don't tell me it's because of Mom. It has nothing to do with that."
He looked back at her, seeming surprised by the level of grief he saw in her face. "I wish I could say what you want to hear," he said simply, reaching out to wipe the tears off her face.
Buffy was surprised to find herself letting him touch her. The backs of his fingers grazed against her cheek, softly, almost tenderly, and Buffy shut her eyes as a shudder went through her.
"It hurts," she said, and Giles pursed his lips in sympathy. She glared at him. "Why can't you say it?" she asked inevitably.
Giles worked his mouth for a while, then sighed. "I'm reluctant to do this now," he said, smoothing her hair back gently. "You have enough to worry about."
"Too late now," Buffy replied crossly, trying to resist the temptation to lean into his touch. If he didn't love her, she wasn't going to let him see how much his touch seemed to be affecting her. "Why can't you tell me?" she insisted. Giles sighed again.
"Because I can't say it to you," he took a deep breath, "the way you want to hear."
Buffy stared at him. "What do you mean?"
He looked back at her hopelessly. "I'm in love with you." Suddenly he seemed to realise that his hand was still moving restlessly through her hair, and he dropped it to the bed.
Buffy followed it with her eyes, momentarily knocked sideways. "Oh," she said. Giles let out a breath. "You can't tell me you love me because you really, really love me."
"Yes," Giles agreed with a smile. Buffy watched his hand, curved between them. She still felt his gentle touch on her face and hair.
Her eyes moved up to meet his, watching her reaction intently. "What?" she said, meaning his look.
"Sorry," he replied. "I was half-expecting you to, well…"
"Wig?" she offered. Giles smiled and reached to touch her again, his love showing plainly on his face.
"Yes. Wig," he said, and Buffy stared at him, entranced by the love in his eyes, the affectionate smile he wore.
Before she quite knew what she was doing, she had reached out and pulled him close to kiss his lips.
Giles froze as she brushed her lips against his, going back to try again, slower, her eyes shut, feeling his soft lips against hers.
"Buffy…" Giles whispered against her mouth. His hand was still in her hair, not moving, but not retreating.
"Shhh," she replied, and kissed him again, harder, until finally he responded, pulling her closer, his hand slipping down her back to her waist and wrapping around. Buffy moved closer, opening her mouth, and he entered, more boldly than she was expecting, sending a shiver over her skin. She raised a hand and cupped his rough cheek, running her thumb over his skin as his tongue teased her, making love to her mouth.
Eventually they pulled back a little, foreheads together, breathing hard, hands running up and down each other's bodies.
"I think I love you too," Buffy said, excitement building inside her. She pressed her face against his, eyes shut, loving the feel of his body against hers.
"Buffy…" Giles whispered in reply, his voice careful while his lips continued to mouth softly against her face, his breath damp on her skin, hands holding her close.
"I love you," Buffy said again, more seriously, guiding his hand to her thudding heart to convince him. Giles touched her hesitantly, his hand resting beneath her breast, then slid his arm around her, pulling her close as they kissed again.
This was much simpler than Buffy had thought it would be. Finding love was something you couldn't just rush into, she had thought, but suddenly everything was clearer, suddenly the man in her arms was everything he was meant to be, and nothing stood in the way of their love, not fear, nor circumstances. She shut her eyes as Giles pushed his tongue into her mouth, and leant back, bringing them slowly down onto the bed. Giles pulled away and kissed her throat.
"We don't have to do anything," he said, contradicting himself slightly as his hands ran over her shirt.
"I know," Buffy replied, and brought his mouth back to hers, kissing him again, shivering as his hands moved over her breasts. Giles went back, repeating the touch, lingering to learn the form beneath him, and Buffy arched against him. His hands slipped lower, appearing under her top and working their was back up, taking it with him. They sat up, pulling clothes off impatiently, helping each other out of their pants. Buffy's eyes widened as she pulled his jeans off, dragging his boxers with them.
"Mine," she said, lowering herself between his legs to kiss the head of his cock. Giles gasped, leaning back on his hands, and Buffy took his hot head in her mouth, feeling him harden even more as she touched him. Her core burned as she worked her mouth down his length, imagining the feel of it sliding into her centre, widening her with its size. Giles began to thrust against her mouth helplessly as she pulled her mouth back, sucking on him. He caught her shoulder.
Buffy grinned as Giles pushed her back into the bed, bearing his weight on top of her, pressing her shoulder into the soft covers with one hand as he kissed his way down her front. Her legs spread involuntarily as he reached her core, scooting down to lick her, his tongue hard. He groaned against her wetness, tongue rubbing over her clitoris, and Buffy cried out, hips rising off the bed, one hand burying itself in her hair. His hands moved up and down her thighs, over her knees and back up to stroke her hips as he tasted her. Biting into her pubic mound softly, Giles began to work his way back up her body, biting and kissing her softly as he passed.
Buffy caught his head and pulled Giles down for a kiss, tasting herself on him as he thrust into her mouth. They tangled closer together, stroking each other with arms and legs, mouths combined, blind with passion. Buffy gasped as he tore his mouth away, pressing it into her neck as he pushed her legs further apart, settling himself between them.
Buffy tilted her hips, hands sliding frantically down his back to clutch his buttocks as he thrust into her. They both arched, muscles struggling against the instinct to move as hard as they could, and Buffy closed her eyes in ecstasy as he filled her, sliding inside, fitting to her skin as if he belonged.
The thought made Buffy buck her hips against him, and Giles pushed back, kissing her chest as he thrust into her. The pace they set was hard and fast, yet their kisses and touches were tender. Buffy rocked as he thrust, changing the angle to scrape his hard shaft against a different part of her with every blow, until he pushed upwards and caused her to cry out in surprise at the intensity of the feeling which followed. Giles thrust again, keeping to the same spot, overwhelming in his desire for her, his arms holding her close as the world rocked around them. Soon Buffy felt herself on the edge of an orgasm, and she clutched at his waist, pulling him closer as she lost control.
Giles groaned as Buffy squeezed herself around his cock, coming hard against him. He held still as she gasped for air, stroking her gently, kissing her face and neck. Soon Buffy was moving urgently against him again, wanting to feel him lose control as she had, pushing herself up to send him deeper. Giles kissed her mouth as he thrust into her again, pushing her hips back down into the bed, and she stroked his back, encouraging him to let go, loving the feel of his body striking deep within hers.
Suddenly Giles tore his mouth away from hers with a groan, pressing his face against the side of Buffy's as he took her harder, coming forcefully. The feeling made Buffy come again, rubbing herself against his body, both of them moving uncontrollably in their need to be with each other.
Giles collapsed with another moan, taking his weight on his arms, still buried inside her. Buffy ran her hands endlessly over his strong shoulders, fingers combing his hair.
"I love you," he said. Giles rolled onto his side, taking Buffy with him, still pressed inside her. Buffy kissed him.
"Say it again," she said, snuggling into his arms. Giles smiled.
"I love you," he said obediently. Buffy smiled back, running one finger over his jaw. Giles shut his eyes in response to the sensation.
"Wasn't so hard, was it?" she said. Giles opened his eyes again and kissed her, rolling them back to be on top of her again. Buffy's breath caught as the movement sent him deeper inside her.
"No, it wasn't," Giles agreed, and made love to her again.
THE END