destructo-girl.com

"Lost"

Author: Gail Christison
Email: chriscln@ozemail.com.au

Giles stepped out of the steaming shower and reached for the lush, dark blue towel hanging on the rack just as the door opened.

She nodded again, watching his lithe body as he snatched up the towel and wrapped it around his hips.

"I'll drop by the ATM when I can and get enough to pay you back. Dawn and the others kept everything just like we were both still here, except for my job at the school. Apparently I got fired for taking too many days off to spend with my boyfriend..."

At his incredulous look, she shrugged. "The guys thought it would be easier if I got fired: way, way less explaining and lying about why I wasn't around."

Giles looked up to ask her what she meant, and found that she'd already slipped away...

When he finally emerged from the bathroom he wasn't sure if he felt like an utter prat or not.

Dawn, rubbing her eyes and staggering toward her morning ablutions, stopped short and stared through slitted lids.

"Still stuffy. Yep. It's you." She shuffled past him without opening her eyes any further.

Giles chuckled to himself as the bathroom door closed behind him, and headed for some breakfast feeling better than he had in many days.

When he reached the landing he realized Buffy was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. She was wearing the green and white sundress and the white sandals again, and this time her hair and her face were beautifully done, so that she looked radiant in the morning light.

He came down very slowly, wondering what kind of bombshell might be dropped on him at the bottom. Had she already dressed to visit the bloody vampire? Could she not wait any longer?

At the bottom of the steps, Buffy was watching Giles' descent, or more accurately watching his body move in the black shirt, designer jeans and black boots she'd bought for him. And he was wearing the silver hoop...

She swallowed as he sped up for the last few steps, the relatively tight, beautifully fitting jeans accentuating every contour as his legs and hips moved.

"You did it," she managed, staring at the stretch knit black shirt, and the perfect way it sat on his hips, among other things.

Still distracted by his disgruntled thoughts, Giles didn't get it. "Did what...?"

Buffy stood on tiptoe and removed his glasses, folded them and put them in his breast pocket.

"You do," she confirmed, drew his nonplussed head down, and kissed him on the mouth.

"Oh, God, do you have to do that before breakfast?" A voice croaked at the top of the stairs.

Buffy lifted her head and grinned as Dawn passed them on her way to the kitchen, still not particularly awake.

Dawn kept going. "Not today. I'm going to Janice's after breakfast...thank God."

When their eyes met again, Giles' were incredulous, which made him blunt. "What happened to your 'date'?"

"Just like that...well, not exactly just like that. I mean I found out last night where I wanted to be today and with who...with whom," she corrected before he could do it.

He looked away. "Yes. Fine. No 'ah.' What on earth would make me think there was?"

For the first time the possibility that something was wrong penetrated Buffy's haze of happiness and contentment.

"You think something happened last night? That I couldn't wait to go and throw myself at Spike again the way I did last year? Even after..." She paused to stop her lip from trembling. "After everything that's happened, you thought...?"

His jaw tightened. "How can I know what to think?" He said tightly. "Tell me when I have ever been in a position to know who you are or understand what you want? *When...*? Before you died, you had nothing but contempt for everything that Spike stood for...and I come back and find you've not only been shagging him the entire time I was away, but to do so you've neglected your sister, your calling, satisfied yourself with a job far below your abilities and shunned your friends to the degree that you didn't even know how much of a mess they'd made of their lives, until it was far too late."

Buffy's colour waned and then flooded back, flushing her cheeks. When she spoke her voice trembled despite her obvious attempt to control it. "Why are you doing this?"

Giles lost patience. "Doing what?" He demanded roughly. "How long, Buffy? How long am I to dance on a string until you're ready to decide whether or not I'm to be a part of your life, or just some damn tool to be taken out like one of my books whenever you need support?" He snorted and started quoting: 'Research for me, Giles. Supervise Dawn for me, Giles. Mind the neutered vampire for me, Giles.' 'Nurse my sick boyfriend who tortured you here, for hours, for fun, and we won't even think about the fact that he killed..." He stopped, breathing hard.

"Are you done, now?" She asked in a very still voice, then turned and fled out the front door.

He stood staring after her for the longest time, then sat down slowly on the bottom stair and lowered his face into his hand.

When Willow returned to the Summers household, it was with the very real expectation of seeing some Buffy-Giles cuteness in action. However, when she let herself in, the house was silent.

Dawn had obviously gone to visit friends, but there was no sign of Buffy or Giles anywhere downstairs. She smiled to herself. Maybe...

But when she reached the door to her room it was open and only one occupant was present, sitting in her newest favourite possession...a large cane chair by the window.

Willow frowned. She could feel that he was completely out of balance, and it wasn't just from the dimensional displacement or his illness. Something was very wrong with his spirit.

He looked out the window again. "I'm an ass," he said simply. "And a fool for believing in dreams."

She sat down on the bed. "Enough with the cryptic, already. You're making my head hurt. I love you guys and I wanna help, if you'll just let me."

"I daresay it won't be much of an issue. By all accounts they found plenty of dirty little corners last year to..."

Willow frowned and cut him off quickly. "Buffy's in love with you. Why would you think she'd want Spike, now?"

"Well, yeah," Willow's shoulders scrunched. "There are those other times when she didn't know what she wanted. But this isn't one of those times. I saw you guys when we found you...and after we got back. Anyone can see that you belong together. I don't know what's going on, but you're wrong, Giles. Buffy has a lot of reasons to suck at relationships. Her parents for one, and being a little busy when she was a kid, to take the time to stop and figure out things other than how to stay alive...o-or save the world, not to mention picking the biggest bunch of loser boyfriends to...well, I don't have to go into details on that one."

She searched the beloved, but hurting, face. "Because she loves you. She always has."

Willow poked her tongue out at him. "And stuffiness won't help yours, you big stupid. Has it ever occurred to you that there's a reason why none of those relationships worked? Why she let Angel go...why Riley just wasn't enough...why Spike can't hold her, even with a soul?"

"Because there isn't any room in that ol' heart for anyone else. And there hasn't been for a long, long time. She just didn't know it until now. She did, however, know right from when you tried to get yourself killed trying to hit a home run with Angelus' head, that she couldn't deal without you in her life. Don't feel bad, Giles. None of us put it together before, either. We just went with the available evidence: Buffy and Vampires for the smoochies, and Buffy and the gang for hanging out, and Buffy and Giles for rightness in the universe."

"Everybody might be saying with their mouths that you did the right thing leaving again last year, but nothing was right after you left, Giles." She frowned suddenly. "Actually nothing has been right since we all...you know, with the-the spontaneous Broadway auditions...and then there was the fun amnesia from the memory spell I screwed up..."

Giles expression turned to distaste. "I've had the abridged version of everything that happened after I left, from Buffy. I'm not sure I want to sit through the unexpurgated one."

"So are you," she shot back. "It's Valentine's Day and you're sitting here, miserable, and I *know* Buffy is sitting somewhere...somewhere Spike *isn't*...being miserable, too. Why don't you go see Spike for yourself? Then you'd know she wasn't there. And then you might even want to try and put the best thing that's ever happened to both of you, back together again."

Ready to tell her it was all quite pointless, Giles rose and turned to face her.

Willow's breath caught. "Oh, God. Giles, you look...wow! You look...*hot*. Definitely hot," she babbled.

"Get what?" He demanded irritably, his unhappiness weighing him down like a leaded shroud.

He subsided a little, involuntarily savouring the memory of that vision at the bottom of the stairs.

"A green and white print sundress. I don't know what you call them. Shoulder straps...thin ones...and cut in at the waist, and white sandals. Her hair was lovely and she was..." He caught himself and closed up. "Never mind. What on earth does this have to do with anything?"

Willow put her hands on her hips. "Your romance-o-meter is all atrophied from lack of use, Mister 'I'm-so-smart-I-can't-even-see-what's-right-in-front-of-me'!" Try and think...use that huge brain of yours for once. Why would a woman buy a man sexy clothes the day before Valentine's, and wear her prettiest new things at...exactly when was it?"

"First thing this morning," he grumped. "Right after she told me to put...these... clothes...on..." He closed his eyes. *He really was old and senile. And very, very stupid...* Willow was speechless.

His green eyes flashed open. "Tell me quickly: where is Spike staying, and where else would Buffy go if she were upset?"

She decided to refrain from impressing upon him what a dumb head he really was...at least for the time being...

"He's got a new crypt at Everwood cemetery, in the back. There aren't that many. It shouldn't be hard to find. The old one kinda got knocked down. And it's been so long since we really hung out...or talked...that I don't know where she'd go, Giles. I'm sorry. I-I could do a location spell...?"

"I'm fine, Giles. And I did one a while back to find Dawn in a hurry, and I was fine then too...we kinda had a flashback to that time when Xander put the love whammy on all the women in Sunnydale, only this time it was a boy Dawnie liked...except the kid's jacket made all of us like him...i-instead of a spell. We had to find Dawn, to stop her from doing something really dumb." She refrained from enlarging upon the incident or upon any of their collective no-brainers that day.

His eyebrows rose, despite the intent expression on his face. "I take it the situation was suitably resolved?"

"Xander and Spike took care of it. They burned the jacket. What's important here is that I can do the spell. I just need to get some stuff."

"Fine," he said, picking up Buffy's untouched cell phone from the coffee table, and keying in the word 'vampire', thankful for Dawn's diatribe during one of their transatlantic phone conversations, about Buffy's 'extreme lack of originality and having no imagination, what-so-EVER!' "In the meantime I'll be gone for some time. Make sure someone is here for Dawn."

"If there are any problems, or you find anything—anything at all," he held up the small device, "call me. Now, where are the keys to the Jeep?"

Spike stirred from what had been a fitful sleep. "What the hell do you want? Disturbin' a man's beauty sleep...why aren't you off somewhere shagging your bit o' skirt? Hate to be the one to tell you, but you're bit past the beauty sleep stage..."

The vampire stared back at him for a long moment, then his eyes widened in surprise. *So it was true...*

"So you've made a hash of it already, have you? Slayer too much woman for you, Rupes?"

Spike found himself splayed up against the crypt wall, his feet two inches off the ground.

"How the bloody hell should I know? Spent half of last night dispensing advice to the lovelorn like a right Berk. Bloody soul's more trouble than it's worth. For example: now the chip's gone, I should be kicking your sorry arse all over this crypt. Instead I'm lettin' you hang me up like bleedin' washing on the line...how's your arm, by the way? Must be gettin' a bit tired by no—"

"Yeah, what of it? Slayer came to visit." Spike's eyes glinted with the thought of the kind of mischief he would have made before he'd cursed himself with a soul. The glint faded...and the delicious thoughts of making old Rupert crazy with jealousy with it. He could do without the thrashing he'd almost certainly get, and therefore have to give, on top of the current misery of knowing he'd lost perhaps the last great love of his life, forever.

Spike braced himself as Giles lifted him by the throat and slammed him into the wall.

"Take it easy, Watcher. No chip, remember? I didn't say anything happened, did I?"

Spike straightened his clothes and rolled his eyes. "You really have to ask? Has it been that long, Rupes? Can't you even remember what it was like?"

Spikes' eyes narrowed. "Oi, why aren't you hiding behind those 'orrible glasses any more? What's with the new look?"

Giles pulled the spectacles from his shirt pocket and put them on, just to shut Spike, who was still looking him up and down incredulously, up.

"I'd watch who you're calling 'old' Spike. I've seen William's history. At least I managed to actually leave home some time before middle age started to set in," he drawled. "And if you're telling me you haven't seen Buffy since last night, there's no point continuing this conversation."

At that point Spike registered something he'd missed before. "Buffy...she's really missing?"

Giles took his glasses off again and ran a large hand over his face. "For several hours, but it's not your concern, now."

Spike watched the older man shove the specs back in his pocket and stride, frustrated, out of the crypt.

"Bollocks," he sneered reflexively, but the bravado swiftly dissipated. Slayer was missing and her bleedin' hero didn't have a clue where she was. *Not so long ago he wouldn't have given a flying f—Ow!* He hopped back from kicking the wall with enough feeling to break human toes. "Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocks...!"

Then he kicked it again, ignoring the pain. He was gradually turning into the biggest bleeding heart, pansy-arsed...

He sighed. What he was...was turning back into William. Except the baggage he was bringing with him this time like-as-not was going to half-kill him. How the hell bloody Angel made it this far was beyond his ken. For good measure he butted his brow against the stone, then wheeled and strode out of the dank little room.

Buffy shifted stiffly from her resting place. After a boring film, which she cried all the way through in the very convenient darkness, anyway, then three mochas at the 'Pump, and a circuitous route through Sunnydale, taking in all of the places she and Giles used to patrol regularly together, she'd ended up, without realizing it, at a place that still lived in her psyche as one of refuge and comfort.

She didn't really want to wake up. Sitting in the shadows, near the funky old door, scrunched in the little corner where the pot stand from hell used to live, allowed her to make it all go away...sort of. After so long without being able to feel much of anything, the violent tumult of emotions, of lacerating pain, were all taking their toll on her.

A hand on her shoulder roused her immediately, adrenaline immediately coursing through her body.

Her eyes flew up, startled, focusing on the source of the too-familiar voice, not sure if she was dreaming or not.

She looked at him disbelievingly, her eyes growing very bright as hope and doubt surged in equal parts.

Giles took her hand and drew her to her feet. "...Understands, as do I now, that one cannot fight destiny," he told her tenderly.

"Yes...ours." He pulled her into his arms and bent his head to her upturned, bemused face, their lips meeting in a tentative caress, before pausing to look searchingly into each other's eyes for a moment. Then their mouths were locking passionately, in an almost desperate attempt to close the distance that had threatened so terrifyingly to destroy any possibility of happiness for either of them...

At that point, the door to Giles' old flat opened and tiny old lady stuck her head out.

Buffy and Giles separated, flustered, Giles thrusting his hands in his pockets. "N-no. Sorry, I...um...used to live here," he explained. "J-just a bit of nostalgia. We'll—"

Buffy giggled. "You think she actually makes it upstairs to that loft every night?"

Giles pulled his left hand out and trailed a finger down her flushed cheek. "A part of me would have liked the opportunity to carry you up there," he told her in a voice that made her shiver.

She searched his face, staring into the eyes she loved, trying to believe what was happening, to take everything in...that he was really there. Then, overwhelmed, she laid her face against his shirt and closed her eyes as his arms tightened around her.

So many times in the past the pain had gone on...and on. She shrank from the memory of the endless ache after Angelus turned...and again after Angel finally left her...the hollow emptiness after that helicopter flew out of her life...

And yet through all that time one thing remained unchanged: one warm, loving constant in her life...

She felt his lips touch the top of her head and nestled contentedly into the shirt.

Surprisingly, Giles shook his head. "Unless you really want to, I think perhaps you should tell me what it is you wanted to do, today. I haven't celebrated Valentine's Day for well over twenty years, which means I'm terribly out of practice, but I very much think I'd like to this year...with you."

She blinked. If she was disoriented when she opened her eyes and he was there, now she was completely dazed. She said the only thing she could think of.

"All taken care of," he told her. "She is currently at Janice's house and Willow has promised to wait for her."

Buffy smiled back tentatively. "In that case...surprise me. I'd like to see what a sexy Englishman considers a romantic day, because so far...not so good."

He chuckled, but a part of him was silently quailing. He couldn't even remember his last attempt at romantic chivalry. The only Valentine's Day effort he could remember clearly was his first, at the age of about nineteen.

The young lady in question had appreciated neither the ambiance, nor the cuisine of the café he'd taken her to: commensurate with his income at the time, it was pretty much just fish and chips, or egg and chips, or, if one was feeling really adventurous, there was always a battered sav, or the ubiquitous pork pie. He was getting indigestion just remembering it. She hadn't been highly enamoured of his carefully chosen gifts, either...neither the block of chocolate, nor the three red tulips he'd managed to knock the florist down to half-price for, given that they'd been in the bucket a couple of days too long. At the time he'd thought they weren't half bad...and they were the right colour, at least, for romance. Not that he got any that day...nor after it, either...at least not with Cheryl...

Giles gathered his wits and took her hand. "I shall have to have some time to cogitate," he told her mock-seriously. "Perhaps coffee at the Espresso Pump while I formulate a winning strategy?"

She beamed at him. "Oh yeah. Mochas," she sighed. "Definitely a good opening move."

"Or there's this one," he suggested, sweeping her, giggling, into his arms again and kissing her soundly.

By the time Buffy had finished her second mocha she was feeling almost human again. Giles had excused himself twice to make phone calls and was now dawdling over his cappuccino.

"You don't have to make it look so painful. Do you want me to order some chaaey for you?

Buffy smiled sweetly at him. "If you'd ever set a big British foot inside a Starbucks you'd know the answer to that already."

"For your information I happen to like cappuccino. I've just got a lot on my mind."

He grinned back. "Not a clue," he replied facetiously. "Well, are you ready to begin your adventure?"

"Adventure? I'm having an adventure now?" She asked happily as they slid out of the booth and Giles unselfconsciously reached for her hand.

Buffy was aware that the heads of several women of various ages turned as they left, but was surprised to note that all but the elderly ladies in the last booth and some fourteen year olds hanging around the jukebox, were looking green jealous rather than disapproving. She was also surprised to discover that she was enjoying it. She looked up at Giles as they stepped out into the sunshine.

His hair was sexily rumpled from running his hands through it. The tan from their previous adventure was making his eyes even more gorgeously green than usual and accentuating the prominent planes and angles of his strong features.

She'd always loved that face, even though she'd never thought about it much before. Until now it had simply been a part of the entity known as 'Giles', like tweed and dusty books, tea and specs. Not that it was always easy to notice, hidden as it was most of the time, behind his glasses. There were also too many other things to think about or do, to spend time daydreaming about how interesting her Watcher's bone structure was. She was surprised to realize that she had done it anyway...mostly when he would whip off the specs and lecture or yell at her about something. He always was kinda sexy when he was angry...even back when she didn't think of him that way at all...

Only when Giles eased the Jeep to a halt again, did Buffy realize that she'd spent the last ten minutes daydreaming about him: drifting from her musings about his looks, to the times when they were lost when she'd held him in her arms, or slept in his...trying to recall every detail, and wondering how they could go from such intimacy back to the doubt and hesitation of any new relationship. She suddenly realized just how much she was missing what they had before, and how much she wanted it back...

And then they were out of the car and Giles was holding out a hand again. This time Buffy leaned into him and slid her arm around his waist, instead. After a bemused beat, Giles smiled and curled an arm around her shoulders.

She looked out at the vista of ocean, sand and rocks. "Have you ever been to a beach before?"

"Well there is that," he agreed cheerfully as they made their way down the sand track to the foreshore. It was deserted, but for a lone fisherman sitting alongside a surf rod stuck in the sand.

Giles liked the sound...and he liked the feel of her pressed up against him, relaxed and happy...something neither of them had known very much about for a very long time...

They followed the line of the tide, walking just where the high water mark met the soft sand, so that they were mostly on firm ground.

They'd wandered about halfway down the beach when the tide rose far enough so that the next wave just kept coming, the cold water making Buffy, in sandals, shriek as it washed over them, and hop back out of it's path, hauling an unsuspecting Giles, snug in his leather boots, along with her. It all happened so quickly that they both overbalanced and went tumbling into the sand.

When they stopped laughing, Buffy shifted so that she was leaning on his chest looking down at him.

Giles' fingers caressed her cheek, pushing the ever-present strand of errant hair behind her ear.

"It's been too long since I've seen you like this. I want to make you laugh as often as possible from now on."

Buffy swallowed, emotion catching in her throat. "And I've never heard you so ...you've never let me see you before...not the real you."

The gentle smile spread from his eyes to his mouth, then faded slowly. "I came to this Hellmouth to send a sixteen year old girl out to get killed every night, without fail, knowing that she would likely have no life, no happiness of her own and that I would have to bury her well before she reached her majority, and then walk away...in all likelihood simply to be assigned another girl, and to start the cycle all over again. I'm afraid I lost the 'real me' years ago, Buffy."

Giles thought about that for a moment. "I suppose it's true. You have. In the other dimension I didn't have a role to perform, a part to play..."

"You were just you: take-charge, sexy you." She kissed his chin. "The you I happen to be madly in love with."

"In that case," he said mischievously, and rolled them over so quickly Buffy found herself in his arms, his playful green eyes dancing above her. "Now, where were we? Oh yes..."

The kiss was long and languorous, both of them lost in the pleasure and the joy of each other.

A second later they were both on their feet, caught between being annoyed and not being able to stop giggling.

Buffy watched the culprit wave withdraw down the gentle slope of the beach to the safety of the ocean's bosom. "My dress is wet." She rolled her eyes and squirmed. "My butt is wet...do we have a thing about getting wet, or what?"

Giles shook a soggy pants leg. "So it would seem," he chuckled. "Which, since we don't have a campfire, puts rather a dent in my plans. We shall just have to improvise."

Buffy decided she liked Giles' idea of improvisation when they stopped at the mall. The first stop inside was a lingerie boutique to buy new underwear for her, then an evening wear store where they could rent clothes for the night.

They looked at dresses for Buffy first, among racks and racks of beautiful gowns, Giles shaking his head more often than Buffy, until, finally, she pulled out a simple, pale grey-blue crepe sheath cut to fall from an elegantly embroidered, heart shaped bodice. When Buffy held it up, against herself, Giles looked into her eyes, now a soft blue-grey, above it, and knew it was the right one.

Buffy found silver high-heeled sandals to go with it then went with Giles to look at the suits.

Giles looked at the various colours of the selections she was perusing, including a number bedecked with cartoon characters, without enthusiasm.

"Perhaps not," he murmured, staring at a Mickey Mouse print set against bright scarlet on one of the mannequins. *At least not from this section...* "Buffy, why don't you go out into the mall and look for a purse to go with your shoes, while I find something?" He suggested. "You may take it out of the money you owe me. Your first gift for the day..."

When Buffy returned, twenty minutes later, Giles was dressed in an immaculately cut classic tuxedo Buffy knew would have cost the earth, with a form-fitting black waistcoat over an equally immaculately fitting white linen shirt, and a small, elegant, black bowtie.

"Oh, yeah," she agreed fervently. "How did you get it to fit so perfectly? Xander usually has to take his back at least three times..."

Giles tried not to smile. "Something to do with being the right shape, according to our friend over there," he told her, still trying to keep a straight face. He did not tell her about the fifty dollars extra it had cost him to convince the assistant to coerce the tailor into doing the minor alterations needed, immediately.

Buffy knew a flash of jealousy, but grinned back. "Yeah, well, I'm the only one who's allowed to touch the wow-ness, okay...?"

Once Buffy had dressed and redone her hair in the change-room mirror, they headed for the Jeep, Giles halting only feet from the exit and handing Buffy the keys and his bag of clothes. "I'll meet you at the car. I've left something back at the store."

Nonplussed, Buffy did as he asked, thrilled with her new purse and amused that he still had his absent-minded moments, even though he looked anything but the absent-minded professor type right then.

A surprisingly amount of time later, Giles returned. The trip across town didn't take long. He manoeuvred the car into a reverse park not far from the most exclusive restaurant in town.

"Giles, we're never going to get in there. It's booked, like, months in advance," she whispered when he handed her out of the passenger side of the vehicle.

He leaned down close to her ear. "Trust me," he whispered back, his breath grazing her sensitive lobe and making her shiver

As good as his word, Buffy found herself being seated at a secluded table for two a short time later and watching her gorgeous companion thank the waiter before sitting down, himself.

The sheepishness was complimented by a slight flush of colour. "I had hoped...but no. She was...unavailable, however there was a chap named Lorne there. He, being an entertainer, apparently has the connections..."

"Go, Lorne," she grinned, looking around the room at the elegantly attired patrons, the live musicians and the waiters in their little jackets. It was the kind of place she could only dream about...until now.

At Giles prompting a short time later, Buffy wandered dreamily through the menu.

By the time the waiter returned, they were ready to order. She listened just as dreamily to Giles relaying their selections and ordering wine. When the menus were taken away she sat back, looking at him.

He stared back at her quizzically. His expression, with one eyebrow slightly lifted, was adorable. "Is my tie askew?"

She smiled contentedly and shook her head. "I'm just making sure I don't miss a single moment of this...or of you."

A wave of love washed over him. She looked radiant...and beautiful in the dress...and that light in her eyes, astonishingly, was for him. For a moment sudden emotion caught in his throat, preventing him from responding.

Buffy, however, didn't seem to mind. She was watching the various expressions cross his features and looking more and more pleased.

"It's...it's all to your liking?" He asked, finally, frustrated by his sudden lack of articulation.

"Oh, yeah. Totally like," she replied with her usual frank honesty about such things, immediately making him feel better, particularly when her gaze once again raked his form, seemingly inspiring yet another dazzling grin. "Everything is perfect," she sighed.

"Almost perfect," he said softly, surprising her, and pulled a small package from the inside pocket of his jacket.

She couldn't stop them. They weren't sentimental. They weren't out of pain, or rage or frustration, but nothing could stop the tears that leaped into her eyes as she accepted the tiny gift-wrapped package and opened it with trembling hands.

"We were training for the fight against Glory. You broke the training dummy...again, and whilst sparring, you tore the pocket off my best shirt."

"...And I made you take me to the mall so I could buy you a new one," she remembered, then frowned, trying to recall the rest of the outing. "We argued about the shirt. I wanted to buy you something cool and you wanted a stuffy business shirt with no style whatsoever—"

"Amazing the trivia she can remember," he teased, taking her jibes about his taste in stride, "without retaining a single shred of useful information. And it was a tasteful, practical garment."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "If you say so. Anyway, after that we went looking for somewhere with good coffee, oh and tea...and biscuits."

"...Scones," she dutifully repeated. "So what...oh..." Her eyes lit up. "Now I remember." Her gaze flicked up to his, genuinely surprised. "You actually remembered that?" She smiled, distinctly remembering how disinterested he'd been in her exclamations of delight at the featured tray of earrings in the display window of the jewellery store...or more particularly one pair of earrings, in the centre of that tray...

She touched them with the tip of one finger. "They're beautiful. Thank you...but I don't have anything for you...I-I mean I had plans, but...well, you know..."

He covered her hand and the box with both of his. "It doesn't matter," he said gently. "All I ever wanted is right in front of me at this moment. You couldn't give me anything that would make me happier than I am right now."

"I can think of one thing," Buffy teased in a sultry voice, when she could speak again, and enjoyed seeing his bark of laughter. She loved his giggle, and how easily they giggled together, but that unselfconscious laugh was special to her. A tiny bit of Giles that was all hers...

At that point the entrees arrived. Buffy divided her time between savouring her own melon sorbet, and watching Giles work his way through a dozen Oysters Florentine. It was funny, but apart from jelly donuts and snacks, and the rare, occasional slice of pizza while they were researching, the only times she ever saw Giles eat were her near-apocalyptic attempt at Thanksgiving and that one Christmas where they were all together before her mother died...

By the end of his filet mignon and her 'quenelles du something' and most of the bottle of expensive chardonnay, Buffy was glowing and Giles was oozing contentment.

After a small introduction, the band finally started a number and various couples wandered onto the dance floor in ones and twos. The two of them watched the gyrations to the modern, upbeat number with amusement...and the next, and the next.

It made Buffy remember when they went to the Bronze after defeating the Master, and Giles' steadfast refusal to dance despite endless cajoling from Jenny Calendar... even Willow had got into the act...

Then the music slowed and many of the couples drifted away, new ones gradually taking their places.

Buffy smiled and slid hers into it. She found it the most wonderful, amazing feeling to be led out onto the dance floor and folded in the arms of the man she loved, then to glide, effortlessly, around it to the low, sweet strains of the music. Giles was an amazing dancer. They weren't just shuffling or drifting around in a mobile embrace...they were really dancing, Buffy glad of Slayer reflexes as she matched his steps artlessly, until she was able to rest her cheek against his breast and mirror unconsciously his rhythm and grace.

They stayed for the whole bracket...slow was obviously the tempo of choice there, the floor packed by the end of the third number. By then, they had also, finally, slowed to a 'mobile embrace' more by design than poor dancing skills.

Buffy wanted it to last forever, and she had a feeling Giles did too. After the fourth number, however, the band paused for a long moment, then launched into a seventies disco number that inspired a low, collective groan from many, while others popped up from their tables to make their way to floor.

They looked at each other, and at the gyrations already going on around them, Giles' face a picture of discomfort and disapproval.

He smiled at her gratefully, circled her shoulders with a protective arm and ushered her back to their table.

As they approached it, Buffy's breath caught. The centrepiece of the table had been replaced by a basket of roses--that was the only way it could be described. Dozens of the darkest red roses, just opening, interspersed with snow-white baby's breath and the finest of ferns in a white cane basket. The closer they got, the stronger the perfume.

When they came to a halt, Buffy reached out and touched a velvety bloom. "They're so beautiful. I've never seen any that looked so velvety before--and the scent. Is it real?"

Giles laughed out loud. "Of course it's real, but they're not easy to find. They're an old time rose. My mother grew them. 'Papa Meillands' were her favourite. I have to say I had a devil of the time finding someone in the area who could supply them at such short notice, especially this time of year."

Buffy buried her nose in one of the blooms. "So tricky...and mucho expensive, I'm guessing?" she mused.

He coughed quietly and turned that sweet shade of pink again. "Well, actually, no one had them..."

"Um, well, it didn't requiring taxing any of her greater magical abilities, now that she's connected, rather, with everything. She simply brought them here...from somewhere else, and Xander left them with the Maitre'd a couple of hours ago," he explained, ducking his head self-consciously.

"You're so cute when you've been breaking your own rules," Buffy teased, loving him even more. She caressed the blooms again. "I can't believe you did that...just for me." Her eyes filled, emotion gradually replacing her amusement. "I've never seen, or smelled, anything so beautiful..."

When the Jeep rolled to a halt outside the house, Buffy was dozing on Giles' shoulder.

He leaned down and kissed her temple, which roused her from her contented slumber.

Buffy shook the weariness out of her brain. "Are you kidding? Not enjoy what was maybe the most wonderful night of my life? Duh. I just don't want it to be over yet."

"No, I don't want to go inside," she parroted, sliding her arms around his neck. "What I want is..." She finished the sentence with a kiss: seeking, passionate and evocative.

When they finally parted, breathless as ever, Giles grinned lopsidedly, looking more boyish than he ever had.

After a long moment, he finally cleared his throat. His voice was hoarse. "A-Are you sure...?"

The green eyes darkened with passion. "In that case, I might have one more treat in store." He picked up her cell phone. "Call Willow and tell her you don't know what time we'll be in. Possibly not until tomorrow morning..."

Her eyes lit up and her breath caught, but she just nodded as he put the car in gear.

By the time Buffy had made the call, talked to Dawn about helping Willow with the chores and listened to her excited chatter, Giles had driven them back across Sunnydale to the main street of Riverview, an adjoining but considerably more affluent, suburb.

He pulled the Jeep off the road and drove under the awning of a majorly expensive looking hotel, drawing to a halt in front of the big glass doors. An attendant opened Buffy's door for her. By the time she'd stepped out, Giles had come around and joined them. He handed his keys to the man.

"Just tonight," he said easily, showing a driver's license and accepting a receipt. He offered a tip, receiving a contented grin and a nod in reply.

Buffy rubbernecked all the way inside and all the way across to the desk. The entire reception area was like a cathedral, with a giant water feature in the middle of it, made of glass, light and myriad streams of water falling from a great height into the peaceful pool at the bottom, where Japanese Koi drifted contentedly around.

Buffy craned her neck up while Giles talked to the concierge. So much glass, and gold coloured trim, abstract reliefs on the walls, and incredibly well behaved, perfect looking plants...not to mention the grand piano up half a level and right where all the glass coffee tables and big semi-circular arm chairs were.

For the first time, his tone was reluctant. "I met someone here for drinks, once," he admitted.

Giles accepted the key card and paperwork he was handed, put his wallet away and turned back to her.

"No, it's not," she agreed, struggling to do better, to be better, for him. "I just..."

Giles took pity on her, half-amused by the stormy, obviously jealous face, and annoyed and flattered that she felt so strongly about something so trivial.

"Her name was Cindy. Believe it or not, we met in a bookstore, fighting over the same book on a sale table.

"They don't sell real books about demons and vampires in bookstores," Buffy said, still working on the name 'Cindy', her mind filled with visions of bubble dancers or blonde, Barbie doll types...She looked up, and saw herself in the mirrored fountain.

"It was a poetry anthology, if you must know," he said dryly. "And to relieve the flights of fancy that name has no doubt conjured in that funny little brain of yours, she was a teacher, here in Riverview."

He tilted his head to one side, amusement again tugging at his lips. "Still jealous?"

The amusement faded. "Once more, at 'Philippe's' for dinner, in Sunnydale. There was a vampire, on the way back to the car. I...um...dealt with it."

"Rather," he agreed as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside the plush-carpeted car.

Giles pressed the button for their floor, then the 'door close' button, before anyone else could enter. He turned to her as they started to ascend, and took her in his arms.

By the time he was done kissing her, Buffy had revised that thought to the past tense.

Since they had no bags to carry when the doors opened, Giles swept a squealing Buffy off her feet and carried her down the hallway.

She sighed contentedly as he slowed, her head against his chest. "What are you doing?"

She kissed his jaw. "I can live with that." Then she looked around. After the splendour of the lobby, the hallway almost looked shabby by comparison.

Giles set her down and looked up and down the corridor as he fished his key-card out of his pocket.

"Probably because they spent all their money on the lobby. It seems to be normal practice."

Buffy's eyes widened. She'd never been in even a two or three star hotel before. This had to be at least four. The room was gorgeous.

She crossed over the beige coloured carpet, past the glass breakfast table and the royal blue sofa, to the window, and looked out at the lights of the city while Giles put down his wallet and bits and pieces on the bedside table.

Somehow, from so many floors up, something that seemed so prosaic in the daytime and so dark and empty when she was patrolling it, now looked like a fantasy wonderland, making her adventure all the more special and exciting. She turned back and looked at the pale wooden TV cabinet and cupboards, the expensive lamps that filled the room and the faux-marble tiles and gold trim of the bathroom visible through its open door.

"It's a long way from sleeping on a bed of leaves and catching your own breakfast," she said softly...then fell silent.

The silence lingered, then Giles stirred from his thoughts and came to stand behind her, circling her with his arms.

They stood silently like that for a surprisingly long time: just...together. Then Giles kissed her head and turned her around.

"We're still the same as we were," he said gently. "Only the backdrop has changed: I did try to tell you..."

She half smiled, trying to shake that feeling of loss. "I know. It's just...we weren't...it was just us."

He nodded. "Now we're back, and there's Dawn, and a whole world of responsibilities...and distractions all crowding in on you."

She nodded. "Not just the slaying...everything." She reached up and touched his face. "I thought I'd lost you. It just...it felt like the universe was saying: 'you don't deserve him', because it's true. I don't. Those things you said, when you were angry before: they're all true. And when I thought you didn't want me, it seemed like I was finally paying for every stupid one of them."

"And now...when you should be happy and enjoying yourself, you're suddenly not sure you should be rewarded for those transgressions?"

She looked up at him and despite the immediate and humorous thought that a mirror would make a lie of that quickly enough, she understood exactly what he meant.

"Don't sell yourself short, there," she teased. "This is me we're talking about, here, after all."

Buffy held her breath as he lowered the zipper on her dress, his knuckles brushing the smooth skin of her back. When it was all the way down, he gently pushed the dress off her shoulders and undid the hooks of her bra, sliding the straps off as well, so that it fell forward with the bodice of the dress.

He ran his hands very slowly down her arms to her waist, and then her hips, encouraging the dress to slip silently to the floor.

When he drew her back against him, Buffy groaned a little. His hands were exploring her curves, her hips; the soft flesh of her belly and the firmness of her thighs. She shivered as they passed by her blue lace g-string and back up to luxuriate in the softness of her now arching body.

Not until she made a small, demanding noise did his strong fingers slip up and caress, like feathers, the curves of both her breasts.

He continued, finding it difficult, himself, not to groan. He had not only been given permission to touch her as he'd never touched her before, her lovely body was pressing against his, the soft, delightful curves of her bottom making themselves felt in a myriad of ways, with the most spectacular of consequences.

Giles kissed her ear, and Buffy strained to his caresses. Her breasts were soft and full, and almost more than he could bear. He simply held them for a moment. Then, once again his hands were roaming, stroking and caressing her whole body, until they were both almost trembling with desire.

And then she was turning, stepping lightly out of the dress and reaching up to push his jacket from his shoulders. He could see how flushed she was, how much her body had responded to his touch. The coat fell to the floor and she pulled his tie, so that the knot came undone. He felt it slide off tantalizingly slowly before she started undoing the buttons of his vest.

When she got to the second button of the shirt, Buffy stopped to look up at him again, both of them lost in each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Then she slid her arms around his neck, Giles taking the hint and bending his head to kiss her again, pulling her to him and bending her head back a little with his ardour.

For Buffy there was exquisiteness in the power and the danger she sensed in him, the very real sense of him controlling it and channelling it into loving her, instead of... She immediately shut out the bad memories and lost herself in the sensuousness of his kiss, his scent, his skin, chest hair, the fingers caressing her back....

Then she was unbuttoning the shirt, pleased there was nothing under it but the still-tanned chest and the chest hair she'd come to love. When she reached his belt, she unbuckled it slowly and undid the hook and the button on his trousers, before sliding the zipper down and easing the shirttails out.

Then she stopped again, for just a beat. Somehow, that one moment was more intimate, more personal...more real than any relationship she'd ever known. Then she was sliding her hands under the shirt, running them up his torso, exploring, feeling, absorbing every contour of him, from his belly to his still-hard chest, pausing for a moment to run her fingers through the soft, tawny hair.

She felt Giles shudder as she continued, heard the changes in his breathing and the sound of his pleasure, and wanted to keep hearing it. She pushed the pants off his hips and the shirt off his shoulders, so she could see him. He was wearing the black ribbed briefs she'd given him, even though it was evident from the only other underwear she'd ever seen him in, that he preferred shorts.

For a long moment she drank him in: the proximity of him and the comfort of the intimacy she'd missed so much from when they were lost.

He was watching her, too, his green eyes dark and burning with desire, yet gentle as they watched her flushed face.

Her blue grey eyes rolled up to meet his. "And this is important because...?" she retorted equally as gently, and moved closer to trail a hand down his torso, flattening it against his belly, fingertips down, and letting it slide under the elastic of the briefs.

She heard his indrawn breath, felt the shudder go through him as it discovered the evidence of his desire, undisguised as it was by the contour-fitting underwear. He was almost painfully aroused, which in turn fired her own passion even further than the blaze already started deep inside her.

Buffy pushed the underwear down, but Giles caught her elbows before she could move any further.

"Not yet," he said in a desire blurred voice, and slid his hands down to cup her bottom and lift her, so that he could pull her hard against him, her legs curling around him so that her g-string pressed even harder against his erection.

Buffy shuddered at the sensuality of it and threw herself into the passion of his kiss, her fingers raking through his hair as he plundered her mouth and arched his hips in response to her deliberate movements against him.

The erotic lovemaking continued unabated, and grew in intensity until Giles had to lay her on the bed before his arms gave out.

It was almost painful for him to look at her lying there, breast heaving, moving the soft, tender peaks as her breathing raced; hair loose on the pillow, and her creamy, tanned cheeks flushed with passion: passion for him. It was almost impossible for him to conceive of a reason why he deserved to be so happy. It had been so long, and the road had been so bloody hard and painful...now he was almost afraid to reach out and touch the joy...lest it be a shadow and gone before he could truly believe it was his...

As though sensing something, Buffy sat up and slid over to the side of the bed. She touched his chest, trailed her fingers down to his stomach.

Her fingers had reached his groin, and were stroking his arousal in a way that was as natural and as familiar as though they'd been together forever.

Giles threw his own back, trying not to cry out as her lips touched him, their coolness exquisite against his heat. And he continued to struggle to not vocalise too loudly the pleasure she was giving him, the utter sensory ecstasy of what she was doing...* for him*

Buffy found herself lifted very gently and eased back onto the bed until she was lying curled in his arms.

He looked down at her, squashing his chin against his chest. "The 'oh, dear lord,' kind," he told her dryly.

And then Buffy found herself beneath him, his tawny head bent to allow him to taste her soft flesh, to caress her breasts with his breath, his lips, his mouth...and to listen to her small cries and groans as he found all her special places, especially when he moved down, following the lines and contours of the lithe body until he reached the tenderness of her groin and gentle hands removed her g-string.

And then it was Buffy's turn to find out that Giles knew more about women than all of her previous lovers combined. She had no compunction about crying out as he drove her senses to distraction, knowing unerringly how to please, how to pleasure. *God, how could he know every...how could he know what she wanted, even before she did...*? She gasped then moaned again and lifted her hips as he brought her perilously close to ecstasy.

Then she was touching him on the shoulder before it was too late. He looked up. When he saw the need in her eyes, he smiled and moved over her, pausing to brush her cheek and caress the stray strands of hair, as he seemed so fond of doing, off her face.

The brilliant green eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she wasn't ready, that the dream might yet be an illusion...and found only a level of adoration to rival his own amid the smokiness of her desire.

He reached out then, and took something from his wallet. Buffy heard the rattle of something tearing and felt a surge of desire when she realized what it was.

Then Giles was sliding his hands down to her hips and lifting them to himself. Buffy wrapped her legs around his and cried out, a gasping, pleasure-filled groan, as he took her, barely able to control her reaction to the eroticism of their joining...so incredibly aroused had he made her already. The waves of pleasure were so strong that for the first time ever, she bit her lip to give herself longer. Then, when she had some semblance of control, she rose to him, shifting to make their union deeper, stronger, and to increase her pleasure threshold even further as he moved more and more powerfully inside her.

Above her, Giles was also biting his lip. He was determined not to spoil this night...of all nights...for her...for either of them, but she was so wild and free in her passion and so incredibly aroused that her movements, the sounds of pleasure she was making and the sense of absolute possession, were driving him beyond any threshold he'd ever known.

It went through him to his toes, her cries and the convulsing of her orgasm around him exploding into a cascade of pleasure that made him forget everything, except roaring in unadulterated ecstasy as she arched to him and he spilled gloriously into her, until both of them came to an exhausted rest.

After a few moments with his head rested on her shoulder to gather his wits, Giles reluctantly drew himself out and secured his protection before getting up to take it to the trashcan in the bathroom. He was back in moments, slipping in beside her and smiling when she immediately wriggled over to bury herself in his arms.

"My mighty Slayer doesn't want to go to sleep on her own, replete and victorious?" he teased.

Buffy lifted her head long enough to kiss him on the nose. "Your mighty Slayer is mighty tired of being on her own...and couldn't bear to not be touching you right now. It...it is okay for me to stay?"

Giles turned sideways, so that they were facing each other. "Forever, if you want to," he confirmed tenderly. "I was only teasing you."

She half smiled and kissed him tenderly, responding when he kissed her back just as lovingly.

He drew her back into his arms. "Do you think Saint Valentine would approve?" he asked softly, resting his cheek against her hair.