Summary: Buffy and Giles have to face some things about their relationship.
Spoilers: Through Something Blue.
Disclaimer: Joss made the characters. I like to mess with them on occasion.
Rating: PG13
Feedback: It's a perfect yum.
Thanks to Tracy, beta Goddess and friend Extraordinare.
Author's Note: Now, I usually wouldn't write this sort of thing-- yes, it *is* B/G,
romantically-- but a friend of mine (who wishes to remain nameless.g>) asked for
a fic about them. So I wrote one. If you don't like this sort of fic, I suggest you
don't read it. :)

The Longest Night

by: Amy
~~~~~~~~~~

It was in a momentary lapse of reason that he told her the truth. The sort
of spell that everyone has sometimes, a judgment call that goes awry, in
being too anxious to wait for someone else to make the first move. It
started with a dance at the prom, during her senior year. That was when he
first felt the stirring in his chest, the feeling that he never expected to
have.

Of course, it shamed him to the depths of his soul, to find out that he felt
that way about her. He had watched her grow from a pretty child to a
stunning woman, though, so what was he supposed to have expected?

But, though he had noticed her timeless beauty before that night, it was when
she was swaying gently in his arms, smiling up at him with a twinkle in her
pretty eyes, that his feelings came into a clear and startling perspective.

Somewhere, sometime, he had fallen desperately in love with her.

So when she looked up at him with those big blue eyes and he saw her mouth
curve up into a sweet smile, he felt as helpless as an abandoned kitten. And
to think that he had been scolding Wesley for something which turned out to
be *better* than what he was doing.

Buffy waved her hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his trance. He
looked at her uneasily, and saw as a blush rose in her cheeks.

"Sorry," he apologized immediately. "My mind wandered off for a moment."

"A lot of guys wander off," she murmured, almost under her breath. He
noticed the hurt in her eyes, and he lifted his hand, grazing it over her
cheek lightly.

"I didn't wander away from you," he whispered. "On the contrary, as a matter
of fact."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them, for it wasn't his
place to try to steal her heart from the vampire who she loved. It wasn't
his place to do anything other than keep her from harm, to keep her safe, and
alive as long as possible. It wasn't even his place to love her, though that
was something he couldn't help.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at him for a moment, tears
shimmering in her eyes, making the blue there seem like a crystal lake.
Giles saw himself reflected, tiny, in her gaze.

"Can we?" she asked him softly.

His heart skipped a beat, and he wondered for a moment what he should say.
Follow his duty or his heart? Were the two choices always going to be
conflicting?

So he sighed, and brushed a silky strand of hair behind her ear, and shook
his head. "I wish I could say we could," he admitted, sadness in his tone.
"But not now."

He waited for her reply.

But she didn't say anything to that. Not to that admission of his feelings,
to the truth that he was just beginning to realize for himself. He worried
later, at home, that it might become something between them, something
awkward and unworkable, something desperately strained, but in that second,
Buffy laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

And he closed his eyes too, holding her hand, clasped against his heart. He
inhaled deeply and smelled the soft scent of her perfume, and was content.
Her fingers dug gently into his tuxedo shirt. So he hoped, for that second,
that he had found a way to make her content too.
* * * * * * * *

What Angel had done to him had been a convenient excuse to stay away from the
tortured couple. Giles knew, certainly, the way one sometimes knows what
will or won't happen in their life, that things would never be like he hoped.
He hadn't realized then, why he was doing it, passing it off as too painful
to be around the vampire who had killed Jenny.

And it was too painful. Because of Jenny, yes, at first.

And then because Angel had something that Giles desperately wanted, even
after the vampire decided to leave. Angel had the light in her eyes, the
smile that she reserved solely for him, her laugh that filled the room.

But then he was gone, and Buffy was left alone with Giles for the entire
summer.

Buffy trained hard that summer, and when she wasn't training, she was
spending time at his house, watching television with him, sipping tea,
talking about things that she would most likely regret admitting later. Her
feelings about Angel, college, her mother, her duty, life. Giles would
listen attentively, hoping that one day, that look would come over her face
again, the look he had caught once, that night at the prom. But it didn't.

Giles supposed that he should be grateful for that, grateful for the fact
that things were as easy between them as they should be, glad that his
unthinking comment hadn't made their relationship hard to bear. But he still
wanted to see her look at him that way again, as if he were the only thing
she could see, as if he was the only thing that was important.

When it finally happened again, it was in the most unexpected time, for the
most unexpected reason.

His old mate from college, Olivia, had been driving through California on her
way to a business meeting, and she had stopped by to say hello. Saying hello
became a drink, and then a long talk about old times and old friends, and
then a perfectly innocent offer for her to spend the night instead of drive
on while she was falling asleep. So she stayed.

And though Giles certainly knew that Olivia was an attractive woman,
beautiful by all standards, it simply didn't occur to him that she should be
interested in him, or he her. His heart was taken, and that was settled, and
though they had had a brief fling in their early twenties, all that remained
was a solid friendship.

So when Buffy came over the next morning, and found Olivia dressed in a shirt
that Giles had loaned her, he fancied it that she was jealous.

He smiled. "I'm not supposed to have a personal life?"

Buffy pouted adorably, her eyes confused and staring at him with that sparkle
he had longed to see. "No, because you're... very very old, and it's...
gross."

Oddly enough, that comment didn't bother him because he could see that she
was simply bewildered, and wondering how he could have ever gotten a sex
life. He had noticed the same look of confusion in his reflection after he
had first found out how Angel had lost his soul, though Giles didn't then
know why.

But, perhaps... Perhaps it was that she saw him as her father, a suspicion
which was later confirmed in his mind when she asked him to give her away at
the 'wedding' she and Spike had planned. And Spike, platinum demon that he
was, calling him "father" annoyed the hell out of Giles, to be sure.

Of course, he was touched by the sentiment. The fact that Buffy at least
cared about him that much, enough to ask him to be an important part of her
wedding day. That was special to him, as everything she did was special to
him. But sometimes, some specials weren't enough.

So when she fell asleep at his apartment a week later, after a fairly
dangerous fight with a particularly vicious demon, he had time to reflect on
all of this.

Giles thought about her youth and beauty, the fire in her spirit, the extra
sparkle in her eyes when she was angry. Her smile, which never ceased to
touch his soul when it was directly aimed at him, the smile that he could
feel when his eyes were closed and his back was to her. He thought about the
way her skin shined with perspiration as she battled him in training, the way
she always knelt over him after winning to make sure he was okay. The touch
of her hand. The warmth of her breath. How soft her lips looked.

And he decided to let her go.

Of course, that became inconceivably impossible when he leaned over to tuck
her worn figure under a blanket, and heard her whisper his name.

Giles stood up, startled.

"Huh?" he said aloud, with trademark Cordelia gracefulness, then clamped his
mouth shut.

Buffy stirred, her eyes fluttering open tiredly. "I said Giles."

He looked down at her in surprise. "You're awake?"

Buffy shook her head, a sleepy smile curving her mouth lazily. "Nope. But
then, I never am in this situation, am I?" She sighed. "You're always a
dream."

His eyebrows knitted, and he sat down on the edge of the couch. "I am?" He
brushed her cheek lightly with his knuckles, his voice lowering to a whisper.
"Do I feel like a dream?"

She smiled sweetly at him; shook her head again. "Nope," she repeated
softly. "Are you a dream right now, Giles? Am I imagining the look, and the
touch, and everything else that's making me feel so good?"

"Everything else?" he echoed.

Her smile turned a bit wicked, slightly naughty, and she looked down at
herself before looking back up and meeting his eyes. "The blanket," she
clarified.

Giles let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Oh."

"And you," she breathed. "Being here, next to me, like this. Is the sun up
yet?"

He glanced toward the clock. "Hardly. Not for another four hours."

Buffy's hand lifted, and she grazed his mouth with her fingertips. "Do you
remember the prom, Giles? When I asked you if this was possible? Do you
remember what you said?"

His eyes were dark, sad. "I said not now."

"You do remember," she smiled, studying his face. "Well, the now for then is
gone and now there's a now for... now. Can we?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly, his hands finding her hair and burying
themselves there. His eyes swept over the contours of her cheeks and neck,
her slim shoulders that were peeking out from the straps of her tank top,
which had slid down some time in the night. "What do you think?"

Buffy paused, looking at him intently. Her hair was fanned out behind her,
like a golden halo on the sofa cushion, and she licked her lips, enjoying the
feel of his fingertips on her scalp. "I wasn't the one who needed to be
ready," she reminded him finally.

He smiled. "But you were. You... and Angel. You're in love with him still."

The words weren't accusatory, just a simple statement of fact. Strange, he
thought mildly, they don't hurt me.

"You're still in love with Jenny," she countered quietly. "It's going to be
like that for always. You know? I love Angel; he's a part of me that I
can't hide, and that I don't want to hide. Jenny is a part of you. It's
like that when someone leaves you, you can't help but love them forever."

"Yes," he agreed, his voice hoarse, wondering where she was going.

"But," she continued, with a wisdom beyond her years, "That doesn't mean we
can't love other people, with everything that we are." Her mouth lifted in
an impish smile. "How am I doing so far?"

Giles chuckled, falling silent when her hands reached up and brushed through
her hair, capturing his palms with her fingers. He cleared his throat, which
was suddenly tight, and murmured, "Perfectly well, I think."

"So...?"

"So," he repeated after her, looking into her eyes. Like the seas off the
shores of tropical islands. He could drown in both. "Can we see this by the
light of day?"

"Meaning?" she asked.

"Meaning, you go to sleep," he explained with difficulty, "And I go to sleep,
and we do this separately, and see how things look when we wake up? I must
admit that I'm not at my most objective when it's the middle of the night,
and a woman whose beauty surpasses anything I've ever seen is staring up at
me with... Feelings... in her eyes."

"Lust," she grinned. He started. Her voice became soft, velvety. "And
other things. Nice, fuzzy things. Okay, I see your point."

"My point?" he asked hollowly, forgetting himself.

"I have a distinguished, handsome man, looking down at me like I've been put
on the Earth only to bring beauty to it, and I have a feeling that that
doesn't make me all too objective, either," she murmured with a smile.

Giles smiled back. He slowly disentangled his hands from her hair, careful
not to pull, and then stood. Buffy stretched, her eyes already drooping
closed again.

"Goodnight," he whispered, turning away.

"Giles?" she called after him.

He stopped, and turned back to her for a moment. "Yes, Love?"

"Promise we'll talk in the morning? And it won't be like this night never
happened?" she asked him, a little fearfully.

Affection melted over his face. "I promise. I could never pretend
otherwise," he confessed, and waited for her response.

It didn't come.

At his promise, she had promptly fallen asleep.
* * * * * * * *

He was making coffee in the morning when she woke up. She stumbled into the
kitchen, brushing her hair out of her eyes, and moaned quietly. "It's so
early!"

"It's almost eleven," Giles pointed out with a smile. He gestured to a chair
at the table. "Feel awake enough to talk?"

"Talk about what?" Buffy asked casually, sitting down.

Giles's hand faltered as he was pouring her a cup of coffee. He blanched.
Was it possible that Buffy had been asleep, or that it had all been a dream?
It had certainly... felt real. But then, sometimes his dreams did.

His throat burned as he set down the mug of steaming coffee in front of her.
He sat down across from her at the table, and rubbed his temples with his
hands.

Buffy burst into a sunny smile. "I'm kidding, Giles. Don't have a stroke on
account of me."

Giles relaxed, seeing the look on her face, and pulled a smirk up through the
feeling of shock that had numbed him for a moment. "Very funny, Buffy. And
if I'm not having strokes on account of you," he muttered jokingly, "Then I
might as well not have them at all. And they've become something of a habit."

"Very funny," she parroted, blushing. She took a sip of her coffee. "Sorry
about that. You just looked so calm... I feel like I'm shaking inside."

He smiled. "I didn't sleep at all," he admitted. "I feel the same way."

"You didn't sleep?"

"No. One of the longest nights of my life, Buffy. Somehow, all of my long
nights have been due to you," he said with a grin. "But this one, especially
so. I weighed the options very carefully. I debated over the pros and cons
of allowing this relationship to progress into something other than a
friendship, other than a partnership. You're so young, and I'm so... not.
You have your whole life ahead of you."

"Which is most likely only going to be a few years, at the most," she pointed
out.

He winced, stung. "No," he denied harshly. "No." Giles exhaled. "And I
thought about your relationship with Angel, and your budding... ah...
friendship with this Riley fellow. And either of them are more suited to
you than I am, you have to admit."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't have to admit any such thing!" she cried
angrily. "Giles, think about this for a second. You and me. Spend every
day together, doing something or another. Training, killing things. It's a
pretty bonding experience, no? And besides that... You know me. You know
everything about me, which is something that I like. No secrets. Granted, I
don't know everything about you, but that'll come in time. And, Angel? Even
older than you are."

He struggled to hide his smile at that comment, trying to remain objective.
"Still, Buffy, perhaps it would be wisest of us to..."

She stood, setting down her mug on the table so hard that some of the coffee
spilled out. "Wisest of us to admit our feelings, and get on with it," she
insisted firmly. She walked over to him, her eyes resolved, and placed
herself directly on his lap.

Giles looked up at her in shock, automatically moving to hold her in place as
she wiggled to get comfortable. She smiled when his hands threaded around
her waist. "That's better."

He stared into her eyes, which were unrelenting, even as they radiated
unbelievable kindness. He thought about the previous night, the night where
she was away from him, when she could have been in his arms, keeping him
company while he kept her warm. He smiled.

"Well," he said casually, tightening his hold on her, "If you've made up your
mind."

Buffy gave him a shining smile, and the little squeal she had perfected. Her
arms looped around his shoulders, and she leaned down to kiss him.

At first, the kiss was simple warm and pleasing, but after a moment it was
hot and far more pleasing than any other kiss Giles had experienced. Her
mouth sucked at his hotly, her tongue sweeping over his lips. Giles opened
his mouth obligingly, letting her tongue delve in, and then battling it with
his own. In a fight to the death, there was no question as to who would win.
In this fight between kisses, the winning spot was still up for grabs.

Finally he pulled away with a breathless gasp of delight. Buffy's smile was
seductive, her voice was a purr.

"And, Giles?"

"Yes, Love?"

"If you thought last night was long," she said slowly, her eyes drinking him
in, "Just wait for the ones to come."

The End

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