ficpost: "Ever Since the World Began" Buffy/Giles
Title: "Ever Since the World Began"
Fandom: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Rating: PG
Notes: For escargoat in the Buffy/Giles Themeless Ficathon. Her requests are at the end.
Disclaimer: Joss != me.
Words: 1,800 or so
Summary: "This is the way women and men have behaved since the beginning"
Ever Since The World Began
Men and women, Watchers and Slayers, teachers and students: always, ever since the world began, men and women had fought or succumbed to instincts primal and natural, deemed unnatural by years of unsuccessful conditioning and culture. Slayers had always been resistant to culture, and Watchers had to fight not to get dragged down to their level, the level where sex and death were one. When a Slayer killed, the phrase they'd memorized began, she touched the darkest element, and that power, if harnessed, was a weapon more powerful than any arsenal the Council could put together.
"Giles!" He lifted his eyes from the long paragraph he'd been reading. "Come on. Are you coming with me, or not? Because I'm getting a little antsy here. Unless you want me patrolling by myself?"
"No, no, I'm coming." Giles stood up slowly. "I thought you were going with Riley today?"
Buffy wrinkled her nose and grinned. "Not today. Hey, are you going to eat that?" Giles noted the piece of buttered toast she was pointing out and shook his head. "Awesome." She grabbed it and crammed half of it into her mouth. "I'm having the pre-Slayage munchies. We'd better get out of here before I try raiding your fridge."
Giles watched Buffy fight from the wall of the cemetery, acutely aware of her form and conscious of her skill, but mostly fascinated by the power that was buried deep and seemed to come to the fore only when she was in a graveyard, and even then, only when she forgot that he was watching. His back was starting to stiffen, or he would have sat by her for another hour, but even though he had to abandon his watch, Buffy smiled graciously at him. "I've got studying to do, something all arty, but I'll be over after then."
"Over where?" Giles frowned.
"Your place. We can have a sleepover. I'll call Willow. She needs to get out more. You know she's been Miss Mopey ever since --"
"Oz left," they recited together, and Giles permitted himself a smile.
"And do you see fit to invite people over to all your friends' houses?"
"Oh, you're not a friend, Giles." And she pivoted, crouched, and was gone, racing after an escaping vampire. Giles left the graveyard feeling as if something momentous had happened, something more significant than the neat pile of vampire dust Buffy had created, but once home, he couldn't recollect even what words had passed between them.
When Willow arrived, she was alone, and when Giles inquired after Buffy, he was told, "She'll be here soon. She's got something Riley-related to do."
"Ah." Giles tried to repress the irrational jealousy that seemed to always accompany hearing Riley's name.
"I, uh, I think she's breaking up with him," Willow said, tossing her backpack on Giles's couch as if the flat were hers. "Everyone's getting their heart broken this year, huh? First me, and now Riley, and I bet Xander will be next. Hey, Giles, have you ever had a broken heart?"
Giles nodded tightly. "It has been known to happen."
Willow sighed and headed for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Try to be gentle with Buffy, will you? After Parker, you know, she's a little -- just be gentle, okay?"
Giles wondered again why he could never understand the subtext of anything the children said. It was entirely possible that their speech really was meaningless to anyone not themselves.
"Giles!" Buffy had arrived while he'd been thinking, and she threw herself at him with the same vigor she used on vampires, though with none of the anger. Before he could process her energy, she was gone, pouncing on Willow and giggling excitedly over something called Manic Panic.
"Is that some new demon we should be worrying about?"
"Giles," Buffy could roll her eyes like no one else. "It's hair dye! Electric Green and Passion Pink. What do you think? Would I look better as a redhead?"
"Excellent camouflage," he said dryly, "dying your hair to match the demons' skin."
"Aww, don't be a spoilsport," Willow said, hitting his arm gently. She reached up and whispered, "Remember, be nice."
The hair dying adventure was aborted abruptly when Buffy realized there wasn't room for three in Giles's bathroom, but it soon yielded to cookie baking (also unsuccessful, as Giles had never been noted for keeping a well-stocked pantry) and much gleeful bouncing from the girls that was doubtless assisted by the liberal application of his liquor cabinet. He knew he oughtn't let them drink, but sometimes it was the lesser of two evils, and he almost preferred Buffy just on the edge of drunkenness, before she was thoroughly morose, but while she was soft and vulnerable enough to avoid being snide.
"What were you thinking about earlier, anyhow?" she asked, offering him a drink, which he nobly refused.
"The way of the world," he told her.
"Like what? Demons and baddies and Slayers?"
"Slayers and Watchers," he said. "There's a great deal of theory about us, you know. Most of my predecessors thought Slayers entirely too much for them, and tried to restrain them using various methods, some of them more honorable than others."
"Like what?" Buffy perched on the edge of the couch and looked especially appealing.
"Oh, some mystical methods --" He noted with disapproval that Willow perked up at that "-- some purely social ways."
"Did Slayers ever sleep with their Watchers?" Giles tried to interpret Buffy's expression, but the slightly glazed tipsy innocent mask remained firmly in place.
"Quite often, before the twentieth century. It was never technically allowed, but the Council overlooked a great deal in those days. They'd rather a Slayer was kept in check -- by whatever means -- than that she rebel."
"Like Faith?"
"Faith was hardly the first Slayer to go bad," Giles admitted. "Why do you ask?"
"What would you do to keep me in check?"
Giles smiled tolerantly. "I wouldn't dream of trying. Haven't I made it clear that I've just about outgrown my usefulness?" It was easier to say than it was to think.
"Giles, come on. I don't believe that." She touched his arm. "Do you think sleeping with me would make me a better Slayer? Willow says that's what's in all your old books."
"Books are, occasionally, wrong," Giles murmured.
"I think that's my cue to leave. 'Night Giles -- remember. And Buffy, good luck!"
Willow's leaving increased the tension in the room considerably.
"Giles, I'm going to ask you something, okay? Because I'm really good at putting my foot in my mouth and I've been wanting to ask for months and... okay." He heard her gulp, but couldn't look at her. "Do you want to sleep with me?"
"No." The lie was glib and came too fast.
"Oh." She moved away from him; he could feel the couch shift beneath him. "Okay, then. I'll just let myself out, okay? Slayage tomorrow night like always? Maybe you can toss in a couple of books, maybe a training session with the crossbow? Anything but --"
"Buffy, wait."
"I've been waiting."
"Why did you ask?"
"Because, okay, maybe I -- I --"
He got to his feet slowly and closed his mouth over her stutter. She was startled at first -- he could feel her shock -- but then reached up on tiptoe to kiss him properly.
"That -- whoa. Can we end all our conversations that way?"
"Perhaps. Would you like to?"
"I think I would." Her smile was brilliant and regardless of what pains it hid, Giles would never stop wanting it. "Look, you didn't do that because it says in all your books that it would tame me, right?"
"I could never tame you, Buffy. That's always been evident."
"And you didn't do it just because I'm pretty and young and lithe and -- okay, I'm Wonder-bra-clad and probably always will be, and I'm short and like too much pink to be really your type and you probably think I'm way too young and all, but, Giles, why did you kiss me?"
Giles laughed softly. "Because you're my Slayer, and bec--"
"That's what I was afraid of. Giles, I don't want to be your Slayer. I mean, I do, because I love -- well, sometimes I love -- being the Slayer and I couldn't have a better Watcher and am so, so glad it's you and not Wesley," she rolled her eyes, "but I don't want to be a Slayer to you, you know?"
"Who would you like to be?" Giles knit his brows, afraid that she was just out of reach, just as always.
"Buffy Summers," she said, and perhaps it was the wine, and perhaps it was the hour, but she looked more vulnerable than he'd ever been permitted to see her before. Even her skin looked transparent. Looking at her, Giles could not recall the history of the world, the first man and the first woman, the first mating, could not remember anything that wasn't her. "Well?"
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you want."
She grinned at him, and the vulnerability was gone. He wondered when he would be graced with it again, whether the contradictions that were Buffy would ever coalesce into a woman he understood. "Well, let's go test out the bed! It's not a good bed unless it's good for bouncing, you know."
"Wait. Before we -- before we go upstairs, tell me one thing."
"Sure. Wait, is this about the Pill? Because Mom totally hooked me up before I went off to college."
"It's not. You said -- earlier, you said that I wasn't your friend."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Well, you aren't really a friend, not like Willow or Xander. You're -- you're you."
"Your Watcher?"
"Yes, and -- you're the one solid thing in my life, you know. And I need you."
"Ah." He reached instinctively for his glasses, but before he had a chance to think, she was tugging at his sleeve.
"Race you upstairs!"
"That's hardly fair. With your supernatural speed, and my middle age, I'll lose every race."
She turned around to grin at him again. "You've got me, don't you? Wouldn't you call that winning?"
Giles had to concede that Buffy was right.
+++
escargoat wanted hair coloring, the phrase "It isn't a good bed if you can't bounce on it" (bonus points if it isn't Anya), and a wonder bra. No bitch!Buffy, no child that Giles didn't know about/never mentioned, No kinky sex. Just no graphic torture of our favorite duo or painful sex.
Fandom: Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Rating: PG
Notes: For escargoat in the Buffy/Giles Themeless Ficathon. Her requests are at the end.
Disclaimer: Joss != me.
Words: 1,800 or so
Summary: "This is the way women and men have behaved since the beginning"
Ever Since The World Began
Men and women, Watchers and Slayers, teachers and students: always, ever since the world began, men and women had fought or succumbed to instincts primal and natural, deemed unnatural by years of unsuccessful conditioning and culture. Slayers had always been resistant to culture, and Watchers had to fight not to get dragged down to their level, the level where sex and death were one. When a Slayer killed, the phrase they'd memorized began, she touched the darkest element, and that power, if harnessed, was a weapon more powerful than any arsenal the Council could put together.
"Giles!" He lifted his eyes from the long paragraph he'd been reading. "Come on. Are you coming with me, or not? Because I'm getting a little antsy here. Unless you want me patrolling by myself?"
"No, no, I'm coming." Giles stood up slowly. "I thought you were going with Riley today?"
Buffy wrinkled her nose and grinned. "Not today. Hey, are you going to eat that?" Giles noted the piece of buttered toast she was pointing out and shook his head. "Awesome." She grabbed it and crammed half of it into her mouth. "I'm having the pre-Slayage munchies. We'd better get out of here before I try raiding your fridge."
Giles watched Buffy fight from the wall of the cemetery, acutely aware of her form and conscious of her skill, but mostly fascinated by the power that was buried deep and seemed to come to the fore only when she was in a graveyard, and even then, only when she forgot that he was watching. His back was starting to stiffen, or he would have sat by her for another hour, but even though he had to abandon his watch, Buffy smiled graciously at him. "I've got studying to do, something all arty, but I'll be over after then."
"Over where?" Giles frowned.
"Your place. We can have a sleepover. I'll call Willow. She needs to get out more. You know she's been Miss Mopey ever since --"
"Oz left," they recited together, and Giles permitted himself a smile.
"And do you see fit to invite people over to all your friends' houses?"
"Oh, you're not a friend, Giles." And she pivoted, crouched, and was gone, racing after an escaping vampire. Giles left the graveyard feeling as if something momentous had happened, something more significant than the neat pile of vampire dust Buffy had created, but once home, he couldn't recollect even what words had passed between them.
When Willow arrived, she was alone, and when Giles inquired after Buffy, he was told, "She'll be here soon. She's got something Riley-related to do."
"Ah." Giles tried to repress the irrational jealousy that seemed to always accompany hearing Riley's name.
"I, uh, I think she's breaking up with him," Willow said, tossing her backpack on Giles's couch as if the flat were hers. "Everyone's getting their heart broken this year, huh? First me, and now Riley, and I bet Xander will be next. Hey, Giles, have you ever had a broken heart?"
Giles nodded tightly. "It has been known to happen."
Willow sighed and headed for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "Try to be gentle with Buffy, will you? After Parker, you know, she's a little -- just be gentle, okay?"
Giles wondered again why he could never understand the subtext of anything the children said. It was entirely possible that their speech really was meaningless to anyone not themselves.
"Giles!" Buffy had arrived while he'd been thinking, and she threw herself at him with the same vigor she used on vampires, though with none of the anger. Before he could process her energy, she was gone, pouncing on Willow and giggling excitedly over something called Manic Panic.
"Is that some new demon we should be worrying about?"
"Giles," Buffy could roll her eyes like no one else. "It's hair dye! Electric Green and Passion Pink. What do you think? Would I look better as a redhead?"
"Excellent camouflage," he said dryly, "dying your hair to match the demons' skin."
"Aww, don't be a spoilsport," Willow said, hitting his arm gently. She reached up and whispered, "Remember, be nice."
The hair dying adventure was aborted abruptly when Buffy realized there wasn't room for three in Giles's bathroom, but it soon yielded to cookie baking (also unsuccessful, as Giles had never been noted for keeping a well-stocked pantry) and much gleeful bouncing from the girls that was doubtless assisted by the liberal application of his liquor cabinet. He knew he oughtn't let them drink, but sometimes it was the lesser of two evils, and he almost preferred Buffy just on the edge of drunkenness, before she was thoroughly morose, but while she was soft and vulnerable enough to avoid being snide.
"What were you thinking about earlier, anyhow?" she asked, offering him a drink, which he nobly refused.
"The way of the world," he told her.
"Like what? Demons and baddies and Slayers?"
"Slayers and Watchers," he said. "There's a great deal of theory about us, you know. Most of my predecessors thought Slayers entirely too much for them, and tried to restrain them using various methods, some of them more honorable than others."
"Like what?" Buffy perched on the edge of the couch and looked especially appealing.
"Oh, some mystical methods --" He noted with disapproval that Willow perked up at that "-- some purely social ways."
"Did Slayers ever sleep with their Watchers?" Giles tried to interpret Buffy's expression, but the slightly glazed tipsy innocent mask remained firmly in place.
"Quite often, before the twentieth century. It was never technically allowed, but the Council overlooked a great deal in those days. They'd rather a Slayer was kept in check -- by whatever means -- than that she rebel."
"Like Faith?"
"Faith was hardly the first Slayer to go bad," Giles admitted. "Why do you ask?"
"What would you do to keep me in check?"
Giles smiled tolerantly. "I wouldn't dream of trying. Haven't I made it clear that I've just about outgrown my usefulness?" It was easier to say than it was to think.
"Giles, come on. I don't believe that." She touched his arm. "Do you think sleeping with me would make me a better Slayer? Willow says that's what's in all your old books."
"Books are, occasionally, wrong," Giles murmured.
"I think that's my cue to leave. 'Night Giles -- remember. And Buffy, good luck!"
Willow's leaving increased the tension in the room considerably.
"Giles, I'm going to ask you something, okay? Because I'm really good at putting my foot in my mouth and I've been wanting to ask for months and... okay." He heard her gulp, but couldn't look at her. "Do you want to sleep with me?"
"No." The lie was glib and came too fast.
"Oh." She moved away from him; he could feel the couch shift beneath him. "Okay, then. I'll just let myself out, okay? Slayage tomorrow night like always? Maybe you can toss in a couple of books, maybe a training session with the crossbow? Anything but --"
"Buffy, wait."
"I've been waiting."
"Why did you ask?"
"Because, okay, maybe I -- I --"
He got to his feet slowly and closed his mouth over her stutter. She was startled at first -- he could feel her shock -- but then reached up on tiptoe to kiss him properly.
"That -- whoa. Can we end all our conversations that way?"
"Perhaps. Would you like to?"
"I think I would." Her smile was brilliant and regardless of what pains it hid, Giles would never stop wanting it. "Look, you didn't do that because it says in all your books that it would tame me, right?"
"I could never tame you, Buffy. That's always been evident."
"And you didn't do it just because I'm pretty and young and lithe and -- okay, I'm Wonder-bra-clad and probably always will be, and I'm short and like too much pink to be really your type and you probably think I'm way too young and all, but, Giles, why did you kiss me?"
Giles laughed softly. "Because you're my Slayer, and bec--"
"That's what I was afraid of. Giles, I don't want to be your Slayer. I mean, I do, because I love -- well, sometimes I love -- being the Slayer and I couldn't have a better Watcher and am so, so glad it's you and not Wesley," she rolled her eyes, "but I don't want to be a Slayer to you, you know?"
"Who would you like to be?" Giles knit his brows, afraid that she was just out of reach, just as always.
"Buffy Summers," she said, and perhaps it was the wine, and perhaps it was the hour, but she looked more vulnerable than he'd ever been permitted to see her before. Even her skin looked transparent. Looking at her, Giles could not recall the history of the world, the first man and the first woman, the first mating, could not remember anything that wasn't her. "Well?"
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever you want."
She grinned at him, and the vulnerability was gone. He wondered when he would be graced with it again, whether the contradictions that were Buffy would ever coalesce into a woman he understood. "Well, let's go test out the bed! It's not a good bed unless it's good for bouncing, you know."
"Wait. Before we -- before we go upstairs, tell me one thing."
"Sure. Wait, is this about the Pill? Because Mom totally hooked me up before I went off to college."
"It's not. You said -- earlier, you said that I wasn't your friend."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Well, you aren't really a friend, not like Willow or Xander. You're -- you're you."
"Your Watcher?"
"Yes, and -- you're the one solid thing in my life, you know. And I need you."
"Ah." He reached instinctively for his glasses, but before he had a chance to think, she was tugging at his sleeve.
"Race you upstairs!"
"That's hardly fair. With your supernatural speed, and my middle age, I'll lose every race."
She turned around to grin at him again. "You've got me, don't you? Wouldn't you call that winning?"
Giles had to concede that Buffy was right.
+++
escargoat wanted hair coloring, the phrase "It isn't a good bed if you can't bounce on it" (bonus points if it isn't Anya), and a wonder bra. No bitch!Buffy, no child that Giles didn't know about/never mentioned, No kinky sex. Just no graphic torture of our favorite duo or painful sex.