Perfect Union - Part 7

Giles didn't know what to say.  Which problem should he attack first?   Buffy thinking that he was angry with her, or the also erroneous idea that she had killed a man?  He paced a little, although in his condition it resembled something more like hobbling.  Pacing usually helped him think, but not today. 

"Do we need to discuss what happened?"  He asked, already feeling the blush creeping onto his face.  He sat on the edge of the bed facing away from her so that he wouldn't have to look at her. <I have to be the mature one>  he reminded himself, taking off his glasses and rubbing his brow.

"What do you mean?"  She asked, knowing full well what he meant.  But she wanted him to say it, hoping that from his words she could read some clue as to how *he* viewed the encounter.

"Well....what I mean, is, of course, our-our-ah ahem."  He broke off into a coughing fit that Buffy strongly suspected was less than authentic.  "What happened between us in-in b-bed."  He was overwhelmingly grateful for the fact that she couldn't see his face.

"Oh......do you want to talk about it?" She deferred, trying to peek at him.  Even though he was turned away from her, without his usual thousand layers of clothing his emotions were a lot easier to read.  It made him more reachable, and very very sexy.....<Focus, Buffy, important conversation here> 

Giles didn't reply.  Seeing that he was about to lose his courage, she went over and knelt before him.  She felt herself redden slightly under his probing stare.  Nobody's eyes could do that to her but his.

 "Did you like it?"  She asked, wanting to kill herself at the sound of her own voice.
Just as he was looking completely mortified, they were both saved by a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" They both called, Buffy jumping to her feet and Giles rising slowly.

Mr. Jones entered uneasily, feeling as though he had intruded once again. 

"Are you ready?"  He asked, seeing that they were not.

"Oh!  Buffy."  Giles said guiltily, "While you were sleeping, Mr. Jones arranged for us to return home.  He will drive us to the airport when we're ready.....which should've been....."  He looked at the clock.  "Now." 

"Home?"  Buffy moved quickly, stuffing things into her bag. She could definitely do home right now. "Let's go, Giles!"  She slipped her shoes on, and took in her watcher. 

"Oh."  She ran to the closet, pulling out a suit jacket.  "Ok, here you go."  She slipped it onto his arms, over his shoulders, ignoring his pained expression as she did so. 

"Sit on the bed" she called as she found a pair of pants which definitely did not belong with the jacket.  He did so, not anticipating that she would actually attempt to put the trousers on him, and in front of Mr. Jones at that.

"Buffy!  I can manage."  He took the pants from her, giving her an incredulous look.  But he understood her homesickness. He, too, wanted to get home.  Then maybe they could forget everything that had happened here.



It was raining.  Not just a light sprinkle, but wear your raincoat and don't bother with an umbrella, because it'll just get blown inside out kind of weather.  Buffy looked out her window, not able to see much but a sheet of water on the glass.  It had been a week since she and Giles had gotten home, and her mind kept going back to the conversation they had never finished.  She wanted to go to him, but wanted to wait until she had the right words. <in that case you'll never talk to him>

Then she was running through the streets, clutching her hood tightly and squinting to see through the torrents of rain.  She stopped, frozen at his door, suddenly remembering one of the reasons she hadn't wanted to come here.  Images of the last time she had been here flashed through her mind.
She had pleaded with him to just move, but he had insisted on staying, saying he could repair the damage. 

She kicked the door angrily, wondering if the effects of the council's actions would ever go away.  Every day, the uninvited memory of Quentin Trevers on the floor, dead would invade her thoughts, and she would have to push the ugly thoughts away, repeating everything Giles had told her over and over until the guilt subsided. 

The door opened, and she was greeted by the comforting sight of her watcher.  Even the sight of him, with his fading bruises brought back the agony of the ordeal.  

"Are you going to come in?"  He asked, stepping out of the way.  She went in, tentatively taking a look around.  He must've been working nonstop since he'd been back, because the home bore no telltale signs of anything evil. 

"I can't take all the credit" he commented, putting her raincoat in the closet. "Willow has been
here every day, working as though her life depended on it."

"Yeah, she was the first one to see......"  She didn't finish, not wanting to go there right now.  Right now there were more important things to take care of.

"So......how are you?"  She sat on the couch next to her watcher, mischievously enjoying his already uneasy demeanor.  She sighed very loudly. 

"Giles, this is stupid.  Let's just talk about it so we can be us again."  Buffy told him, taking his hand in her own.  "I'll just apologize and you can accept, and we can never, ever talk about it again."

He couldn't believe his ears.  It figured with this one.  'Do me a favor, Giles, please, just this one time,' she had said to him, and he had agreed.  Yes, he had wanted it, but those words had somehow unlocked the part of him that would agree to such a thing.   He slammed down his cup on the coffee table, spilling his tea everywhere.  Buffy jumped at the sound, and the action itself.

"No!  He answered.  "I want to talk about it a lot.  I want to talk about it all the time, to examine every detail about that night, and then, when we're done, I want to talk about it some more." His volume increased with every word spoken.

Buffy raised her eyebrows.  He was making *no* sense.  OK.  He was mad at her.  She deserved it.

 "OK."  She agreed, knowing he was not going to like what she had to say.  Oh, yes, he would be sorry when he heard what she really thought.  Her lips curved slightly, almost into a smile.

"You first." 

He was taken aback.  Damn.  That had been his line.  He didn't want to go first.  But he had started this.  He stood up.  How was he supposed to say these things with her right there?  Once he was standing, he felt more in control of the situation. 

"Buffy....I sense that what happened between us has put a strain on our otherwise very strong relationship.   I was hoping that you could explain what motivated you to, t-to, seek me, sexually."

The girl felt the blood drain from her face.  She hadn't expected such a straightforward question.  And now he wanted an answer.  To top off the horror of the situation, he was looking at her.  Buffy had never felt so completely exposed than at this moment.

"I just want you to remember that you asked," She warned him.  Seeing his nod, she continued.
" I saw you there, and I needed you to make me whole again.  It was like needing food, or air or something. It was............necessary."

He swallowed, feeling the lump in his throat.  It was just as he'd thought.  It had been a response to the situation.  But she continued.

"And, Giles, you're not going to like this part,"
 
He braced himself.

"But I didn't stop wanting it. If Mr. Jones hadn't walked in on us, I would've been down there giving you the same line again.  And right now........"  She stood on shaking knees and approached him with counterfeit confidence.  She put her arms around him, talking into the front of his shirt.

"Giles, I know I'm always taking from you, always asking for things.........but please, just this one thing.  I'll never ask anything of you again."  She repeated the words that had led them to this very place. 

"Why?"  He asked her, not understanding, but feeling his arms go around her, and begin stroking her hair.

"Because I love you, and I will say anything to convince you to be with me, even if you don't feel the same."  She shamefully admitted.

He pulled away from her slightly, and when she didn't look up at him, put his fingers under her chin, tilting her face upwards. 
"Don't you know that you don't need to ask in that way?"  He asked, his voice filled with emotion.   "Making love to you is not a favor to be granted.  It's something to be shared, by both of us.  And you don't need to ask.  You just need to do this."

He showed her by lowering his head and kissing her thoroughly, until they reached the point where they knew there was going to be a lot of sharing, and Giles turned out the light, following Buffy up the stairs.

END