Necessities
By Darcy Galvan
Title: Necessities
Author: Darcy Galvan
E-Mail: mscribe@angelfire.com
Rating: G (well, actually, there's like, ONE bad word, but that's
it.)
Spoilers: Yoko Factor spoilers specifically, and then general
season four
Distribution: Solo, Sha, whoever wants it (I would be so pleased)
Summary: What if it was Buffy who'd walked in on Giles in The
Yoko Factor rather than Spike.
Disclaimer: Joss, WB, Mutant, they own BTVS.
"Freebird" belongs to Lynyrd
Skynyrd.
Author's notes: Hee hee! Look! My second happy
fic (and I bet y'all thought I couldn't do it! *G*) !!!! Well, it
goes into the slightly less than happy, BUT ONLY FOR A SEC, and
it's necessarry when dealing with the lyrics, dontcha know.
I would like to give this fic to Sharon, *G* seeing as how she
provided me with Giles' question posed to Buffy in this.
You'll see. THANK YOU SHA!!!
"If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me?
Well I must be traveling on now
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see"
Buffy paused at Giles' door. Through the wood she heard a
clear, warm tenor voice and the strum of an acoustic
guitar. The voice wove up and down, letting the words out
in a slide of emotion.
< It's kinda sexy. > Willow's words ran through the
Slayer's mind as she stood on her Watcher's door step. The
tune was achingly simple, and it caught her as she
listened. < Wow. Wow indeed. > When her
friends had spoken of Giles' singing, she hadn't quite believed
them. Giles. *Her* Giles, a singer? There had
been that old photo of him, young and arrogant, guitar in tow,
but she'd never really connected Giles to it.
Like one of those novelty photos one took at the fair. A
person would stick their head through a hole in a board with a
picture on the other side. And from the front, with their
true forms hidden behind an image, they were a weight lifter,
King Kong. A man was a woman, Little Billy was a hula
dancer. Looking at it, though, the real person was never
thought of literally as being that character.
Giles had stuck his head through the picture of a rock star, but
now, somehow, standing there, she knew it *was* him.
< Giles sings. > Buffy clasped the door handle,
moving it ever so carefully. She hesitated a bit. If
she were performing a talent so personal, would she want someone
else barging in? Her need overthrew thoughts of common
courtesy or privacy and she inched the door open.
The edge of the wood caught something, though, scraping and
thumping it across the floor.
Giles let out a little shriek and jerked, dropping the
guitar. Buffy giggled involuntarily < Sings *AND*
squeals > but clasped her lips around the sound, cutting it
off. She didn't think she'd gain any points by laughing
after she'd interrupted and startled him.
"You know, for someone who's got 'Watcher' on his résumé,
you might want to cast an eye at the front door every now and
again," Buffy teased gently.
Giles pursed his lips and adjusted the guitar, leaning it against
the couch, wondering weather to scold Buffy or retort.
"Well, at least my alarm system was effective," he said
crisply, pointing at the guitar case that had caught the door and
given Buffy away. The words were a bit sharp at the edges
and a shadow of a frown marred Buffy's smooth brow. Giles
let the corners of his mouth drift up so that she could see he
wasn't upset and she relaxed.
"Giles, I never knew you could sing. Well, I mean, I
*did* technically. Willow told me you could."
She grinned. "She said it was kinda sexy."
The familiar eyebrow rose and his cheeks rounded in an amused
smile. He had always had the most adorable smile.
"But I didn't really, you know, *believe* it."
"Shall I assume that you're a believer now?" he said,
crossing his arms and tilting his head, lips and brows quirked,
face open and questioning, eyes dancing with mirth.
"Am I ever. You were good." His cheeks
colored a little and he tilted his head down. "And I
thought drawing was your big artsy thing." He slipped around
behind her to close the door and she turned, tracking his
embarrassed movements. < Maybe he's gonna make a run for
it. > Giles merely headed for the couch and perched his
comfortably long frame casually on the arm. Buffy sat at
the far end, curling up, leaning into that arm.
"Giles, why didn't you ever tell anyone that you could do
that? Well, I mean, show anyone? Why didn't you ever
show me?"
"Buffy, do you keep a journal?"
"Well, yeah."
"Why?"
Buffy looked at him incredulously. He tilted his head,
requiring a response. "So I can write about things
that I wouldn't tell anyone else. A way to let feelings
out."
"Why don't you show anyone?"
"Because it's personal. It's mine. Okay. I
see where you're going, Giles. I shouldn't have barged in, I
shouldn't be asking questions, I should just forget this whole
thing." She made to get up and Giles put his hand
out. She plopped back down.
"You didn't let me finish. This," he motioned at
the guitar, "really is quite a personal thing."
Giles chuckled. "Of course, I took it up so I could
show off at parties, but that's quite another matter. I've
not been inclined in recent years to share it with anyone because
it's something that I have that is purely mine. Everyone
needs something that only they know of, that they can enjoy, or
use as a way to let out emotion they would otherwise keep locked
up." Buffy grinned and rolled her eyes.
"You know, Giles, even with the tweed and the stuttering and
that uncomfortable look you'd get every time anyone would
actually like, address you as a normal guy when I was in high
school, I always did know that, underneath, somewhere, you were
big ole macho Watcher guy." She smiled wickedly.
"That image is starting to slip. You're going all
emotional on me. Just tell me that you don't have a Lisa
Frank diary stashed under your crossbow bolts and demonology
books and maybe we can let this go."
"Ha very ha," he said dryly. But his mouth
smiled. "At any rate, I suppose I don't mind anyone
knowing about this, not really. I just, never felt that I
had to initiate it. If someone heard, as was witnessed just now,
well, fine."
He rubbed his chin. "Although, perhaps I might try to
prevent any future discoveries. I hear that the locksmith
has very good prices. Perhaps a new lock, a few dead bolts, maybe
a crossbar...."
Buffy gently slapped the couch. Giles' face relaxed into a
neutral expression.
"Who was that by?"
"Lynyrd Skynyrd." Buffy's nose wrinkled in an
amused 'yuk' face. "Would you play for me?" she
asked casually.
Giles looked at her, gaze thoughtful, as if weighing his options.
"Ah, well, I uh, ah-I suppose...so," he said, stumbling
a bit over the words. Buffy watched in half amusement, half
concern. He hadn't stuttered since she was in high school, not
really. He moved a bit unsurely to retrieve the
instrument. It seemed that he took a bit longer than
necessary in settling himself before he touched his fingers to
the strings and began plucking out a gay little tune.
"No." Buffy's words stopped him short.
"I'm sorry?"
Buffy caught and held his eyes and spoke slowly.
"No. Play the one that you were doing when I came
in. Please," she added after a slight pause.
He looked as if he wished to protest. But he merely raised
his brows in a facial shrug and gingerly placed his fingers on
the strings again. There was a momentary pause as he took a
breath and began to play.
"If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me
Well I must be traveling on now
'Cause there's too many places I've got to see"
The voice that lent so much warmth and color to words in books,
even prophesies and dry Watcher diaries, did that and so much
more to these words, this tune. Buffy let her body relax
and fall back against the couch as she observed, nearing awe.
The words themselves and their meaning suddenly began clicking
over in her mind.
"And if I stay here with you girl
Things just couldn't be the same
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now
And this bird you'll never change"
For a few moments, she sat as he strummed and sang, just
thinking. Letting her ideas gather.
It was him.
Oh, God, it was him. < Does he really feel that way?
> she wondered, stomach clenching. She didn't know why
she thought this. He could have been singing the song for
any number of reasons. Maybe it was the only one he knew,
perhaps he just liked the tune. Could it have been the
first song he'd learned? Her mind feebly grasped at other
options, but somehow, her first thoughts were true. She was
sure of it.
It was Giles singing, as if the words had been expressly written
for his situation.
< And I'm her, > her mind stated, inner voice small.
"Is that true?" Giles' performance halted at the
quiet, unsure voice.
"Pardon?"
"Is that really how you feel, Giles?" Giles eyes
widened for a split second and he opened his mouth. Buffy
spoke gently. "Please, Giles, tell me the truth.
Do you really feel that way?
"Sometimes...well, most times, yes, it is." He
kept his eyes on her, face stoic. She'd asked for the truth
and she'd received it like a sharp, stinging slap to her face and
to her heart.
"You want to leave?" She wouldn't meet his eyes
anymore and her gaze rested somewhere around the left corner of
his mouth.
"Sometimes I wonder that I shouldn't," he said calmly,
lowering the guitar to the ground once more. "I don't
particularly cling to the idea, but I'm not sure how necessary my
presence is around here."
"You're necessary," Buffy said, eyes rising quickly to
meet his, to reassure him, though she wasn't sure if he could
believe her.
He smiled lightly, resigned. "You need a place to
meet, not necessarily myself. Aside from the fact that my
residence is a bit closer than his, you could meet at Xander's,
or at Riley's house or even at your dorm."
Buffy began to shake her head, but images of this past year had
flashed through her head and she stilled, lower lip caught
between her teeth, brow furrowed.
"You think I wouldn't miss you if you left?" she asked,
barely whispering.
He merely smiled sadly and opened his hands, bobbing his
shoulders in a tired little shrug. "I don't
know," he said. His gaze drifted off when Buffy didn't
respond. Acute sadness rested low and heavy in his
chest. He breathed slowly, allowing the pain -- forcing it
-- to dull slightly as the quiet continued, as he realized that
he had to accept it. He couldn't let it matter or it would
be too much.
Two small, warm hands suddenly gripped his forearms. His
gaze rushed back down to meet Buffy's face.
Her voice was commanding and pleading at the same time as she
said, "Don't think that Giles. Please, don't ever,
*ever* think that."
His expression was somewhat akin to confusion as she tightened
her grip and gave a small, firm shake. "I *need* you
Giles. I know that what has happened this year hasn't been
good. I realize that I've been pretty much
Buffy-centric." She let him go slowly, his full
attention on her, and flipped her hair out of her face, voice
rueful when she said, "I want to tell you that it's just
this whole first year of college, finding myself, overdoing the
whole new experience independence thing. I guess I can't
make excuses, though, huh?"
"Well, I wouldn't say--"
"Shut up, Giles," Buffy said with a small smile.
"I hate it when I know you're mad at me and *you* know
you're mad at me and you *still* insist on defending me.
Lemme knock myself down a couple notches and make myself feel
like a real bitch and you can be nice later, okay?"
"Fine, bitch, continue," he said, lips quirking with
humor. Buffy grinned, feigning stern speech.
"Hey, I didn't say I needed any help, I just wanted you to
shut up." Giles nodded. "Okay." Buffy
shook herself and her face was serious again.
"I don't want to make any excuses. I shouldn't have
just neglected everybody the way I did. You, Willow,
Xander. I mean, sure, I talked to you guys and all, but, it
wasn't the same. I guess that stuff can't stay the way it
was forever, I mean, things change." She locked eyes
with him, emphasizing her words. "But I want us to
always be together. I want you to always feel like you're
needed, 'cause you are. I may be too dumb to ever think
about actually saying it, but, I do. I love you,
Giles."
He kept her gaze, his voice somber, he spoke. "Do you
feel like enough of a bitch now?"
Buffy laughed. "Yeah, I think I do." Buffy
knelt on the couch and leaned up, wrapping her arms around his
neck suddenly. Giles beamed. It was rare that they
actually hugged and he cherished each encounter immensely.
Her cheek was pressed to his and she felt his warm breath on her
ear. Her fingers drifted in distracted circles against the
nape of his neck as something inside of her suddenly clicked into
place, albeit somewhat vaguely. She frowned lightly.
"Giles?"
"Hmm?"
"That line in the song, what is it, 'If I stay, things just
couldn't be the same,' something like that?"
"Yes?"
"I don't think I want them to stay the same." Her
words were almost questioning as she tested them in her mouth.
She pulled back just enough so that she could look into his
eyes. They were tinged with confusion. Her hand rose
to trace the side of his face. Down his profile to rest
against his throat where his blood beat warmly under the skin,
it's steady pulse speeding up ever so slightly.
Giles remained absolutely still as Buffy leaned forward until
their faces were scant millimeters apart. "Do
you?" she murmured against his mouth, her breath and soft
lips brushing against his own, making them tingle. Her pale
lids dropped and she tipped her head forward, bringing their
mouths together in full, sweet contact.
Somewhere, vaguely, Giles knew that he should be more shocked and
that he should not allow this to continue.
His own hands came up to lightly cup either side of her jaw as
Buffy's moved to rest on his biceps. Her lips were parted
slightly and he gently slipped his tongue between them.
When they broke contact, Buffy looked up at him.
"I just kissed Giles," she said with a silly
grin. "Wait until Willow hears about this."
He looked at her and her goofy grin, his heart swelling.
"Buffy, is-are y--Buffy, be sure this is what you
want. I won't go backwards. I've wanted to hold you
for too long to just turn around later and let you go."
"Giles, this is you. There's nothing I could ever be
more sure of." His face spread in a smile, tiny lines
fanning out from the corners as his eyes crinkled in joy.
Buffy loved that face. Every line of it. She smiled
shyly now that her actions were less spontaneous and kissed him
again, relishing in the feeling of his lips pressed to hers;
their breath, their flesh, mingling.
"Will you play that song for me now? I want to hear
the rest, it was beautiful." He nodded and picked up
the instrument, once more beginning to sing. She hoped that
he would sing to her for the rest of her life.
"If I leave here tomorrow....." The words, now sweet
and familiar flowed through her. She hoped that he'd never
feel the truth in them again.
When the song was over, Giles looked at her and stopped.
She was frowning lightly, eyes distant.
"Buffy? Is something the matter?"
"Giles? I'm not too sure I want to tell people that we
owe our relationship to a group called Lynyrd Skynyrd."
THE END