Had That Not Been Love?: Had that Not Been Love?
by Fairfax
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to Joss Wheedon, Mutant Enemy et al. Am not making any money - just having fun.
Season: End of Season Four
This is a challenge fic, the specs of which can be found at the end.

‘Had That Not Been Love?’

Buffy perched on a gravestone in the now deserted cemetery. She picked some vamp dust off her jacket and tried to focus on what she needed to do next. Riley, she’d go to Riley’s even though he was probably asleep, tired out from the search and destroy, sweep and clear, point and run away or whatever the title and purpose of the training exercise he‘d been engaged in for the last three days was.

There was someone closer, much closer and given that in the past Buffy had walked into the loft at all hours and never once caught him doing so, she doubted that he would be asleep. Buffy shifted, burrowing deeper into her parka - so much for California heat, it was freezing. Maybe she could go to Giles’, just because she hadn’t in months and it was the middle of the night, he’d be cool, wouldn’t he?

Buffy made a decision, picked up the box next to her and set off. She had to start moving, she needed help, the bleeding wouldn‘t stop.

********************

There were books spread out before him, yet Giles had long since given up studying them. He now sat low in his chair, feet up on the desk, holding a glass in one hand and massaging his temple with the other. He glanced over at the clock - was she patrolling now? Was she safe? Most likely she was shagging the living daylights out of Soldier Boy and good luck to them. Infatuation, lust or true love, whatever the foundation of their relationship, Giles acknowledged from bitter experience that such moments rarely lasted long.

He knew that it was an equation born of late-night depression, that once one starts totting up the what-ifs in middle aged life you can get badly, if temporarily hurt. Without any distractions he found himself unable to divert his thoughts from increasingly melancholy tracks.

By any standard he’d enjoyed a golden start in life, a loving family, an expensive and prolonged education and financial security. He was more than happy to accept weak eyes and a stammer in exchange for the confidence derived from being over six-foot tall and seriously good-looking. Now when he looked in the mirror, a tired, jaded stranger stared back. Why was he so far away from nearly all those he held dear? Why did he have nothing to show for forty-six years of existence? Why was the doorbell ringing at this time of night?

‘Buffy. Why are you…how how good t-to…’ he gave up and gestured her inside.

Buffy turned to face him.

‘Giles, don’t freak out,’ she warned as she removed her jacket. ‘But I think I need a hand here.’

Her top was covered in blood. Giles’ eyes went wide as he hesitated just long enough for Buffy to regret the choice she’d made, then he ushered her into a chair.

‘I’ll get the first aid kit. You will be fine.’

He flashed her a quick smile, then went to the bathroom to get the medical supplies.

*******************

‘I’m not familiar with the geography of the United States, is Iowa by the coast?

The corners of Buffy’s mouth twitched up a little. Giles was using the old psychological trick of distraction to take her mind off the pain. So far the smartest man she had ever known had claimed not to be able to remember what position Riley held at Sunnydale U, the precise location of her mother’s gallery and most outrageously of all which dorm Buffy roomed in.

Despite its obviousness, it was working. Buffy could feel her discomfort reducing, slayer healing had taken the edge off so that Giles was patiently cleaning a gash that had all but stopped bleeding, rather than the ragged wound that the railings of a tomb had torn across her shoulder, when she’d mistimed a vault during tonight’s slayage. Her opponent then seized the chance to get in several well aimed blows before finally being introduced to Mr Pointy.

‘You can hold the Q & A, Giles. It’s okay, we could just talk.’

‘Right,’ said Giles, then added nothing further.

Buffy didn’t know how to break the silence. It had been a while since they’d been together without that time being dominated by discussions on how to tackle the Demon of the Day. She’d long ago swapped Giles for Riley when it came to training partners, what girl wouldn’t prefer workouts that ended in smoochies rather than lectures?

At last he spoke.

‘All done. You’ll be a bit sore in the morning, but no lasting damage.’

She had to hand it to him, he was very good at being reassuring, even though his expression when she’d taken off her jacket had betrayed his anxiety. Soothed by Giles’ physical presence and the gentle cadence of his voice, Buffy felt a million miles away from the brief moment of panic and isolation she’d felt in the cemetery that had propelled her to his door. Door - oh no. The box!

Giles watched, bemused, as Buffy jumped up and ran for the door without so much as a glance in his direction. He half expected her to slam it behind her and keep going, but she came back in almost immediately though a lot more slowly, carrying a battered cardboard box which she placed on the floor next to where he was still kneeling.

‘The vamp left this behind.’

The box rocked violently, as loud scratching emanated from it. Trusting that she wouldn’t so casually place anything dangerous next to him, Giles opened the lid and peered in.

‘And you’ve brought it with you why, exactly?’

Buffy picked the puppy up, snuggling it to her and pouting at Giles.

‘I couldn’t just leave it behind,’ she changed her voice to baby talk, addressing the puppy. ‘No I couldn’t leave you behind, could I? Cos you’re so cute.’

The puppy whined as Buffy went back into business mode.

‘What would a vamp want with a puppy?’

‘The same thing they want from any living creature, blood.’

He thought she was going to cry. Buffy’s reaction to his matter-of-fact words told Giles that she was feeling worse than he’d thought. Slayer healing was a physical wonder, but it didn’t help with the emotional effects of taking a beating - the curious, nausea inducing sensation that your body had been somehow invaded, the fatigue and inability to find the middle-ground rendering everything either too funny or too sad.

‘The puppy has to go, tomorrow. You realise that don’t you?’

‘Yeah. In a perfect world it would stay, get trained and we’d have a real Scooby in the Scoobies. In this world it’ll be happier being someone’s pet. Cute though.’

‘Infinitely.’

He watched her fussing over the dog, full of compassion recognising all too well the symptoms he’d so often experienced himself. Buffy looked over to him and he suddenly felt awkward at how close they were, now she was kneeling also. He stood up, retreating to the breakfast bar.

‘I-I’ll drive you back to the dorm, you should be resting.’

As one they looked across to the bottle of Laphroig on the desk. He’d only had a couple of shots, albeit generous measures, was that enough to put him over the ludicrously low limit they had for drink-driving in this safety mad nanny state? He frowned:

‘Better not risk it. I’ll call you a taxi.’

Buffy was now drowsily leaning against the couch.

‘No need,’ her voice sounding flat. ‘I’m good to go, just give me a second here.’

Her words were rendered even more unconvincing when she gave an enormous yawn.

‘Taxi,’ said Giles firmly. ‘Perhaps some coffee wouldn’t be a bad idea also.’

By the time he’d finished making it and went to offer the mug to Buffy, she and the puppy were fast asleep. Giles was still for second as he reached a decision, he placed the dog back in the box and went upstairs.

‘Buffy, wake up.’

She looked up at him groggily.

‘You need to sleep, properly. If, if you wish, you may stay here. I’ve changed the sheets, everything is quite tidy.’

‘You’re always quite tidy,’ she murmured affectionately.

‘So you just need to go upstairs.’

Buffy didn’t move, but continued to hold his gaze.

‘Come on, up you come.’

Giles bent down, picked Buffy up, and thanking the Powers That Be that his Slayer was so light, carried her upstairs and placed her on the bed. Buffy roused herself enough to kick off her sneakers, she was struck by the unhurried gentleness with which Giles drew the duvet over her. That was her last thought before the darkness rushed over her again.

********************

Once she’d worked out where she was, it felt completely natural to be there, when surely it should’ve been weird? The open-plan nature of the loft had its advantages, she could inch over the bed and see what was going on, something she did a few times over the course of a much disrupted night as her body ached and healed.

The first time she obviously hadn’t been asleep long because Giles was awake and seemed to be working. He was pacing back and forth, glaring at the books on the desk as if arguing with them, several times she’d walked into Sunnydale High library and caught him in the same distracted, almost aggressive mode.

In the library however, Giles had always looked every inch the stuffy librarian he initially appeared to be. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Giles dressed formally. Alright so he wasn’t working, but he seemed to have taken the slacker look quite far for someone who used to be so tailored. There was no joy in it, no self-expression, rather than a new image, this was more like hiding or giving up.

At least he’d discarded the baggy grey sweater he had been wearing, and was now clad in a faded t-shirt. It was grey too, but its tighter fit gave his body some definition. Buffy cast a critical eye over her agitated Watcher and liked what she saw. If he chose to Giles could look good, very good, it was no surprise. Buffy had always seen the attractive side. She settled back, thinking about what style would really suit Giles as her eyelids grew heavier and heavier…

The next time she was woken by a strange hooting sort of noise. The puppy was out of its box, tottering on the rug and howling lustily. Giles scooped the little animal up, holding it at arms length.

‘Please stop making such a racket,’ he begged it. ‘I’ve given you some milk, you’ve declined all the food I posses. Have I missed something?’

The puppy continued to vent its distress and kicked its paws feebly out into the air.

‘What are you?’

Curious, he tilted the puppy this way and that.

‘German Shepherd? Husky? One day someone is going to have to spend an awful lot of money on dog food, aren’t they?’

The noise level hadn’t reduced at all, clearly exasperated Giles transferred the dog to his right hand and held it close to his chest, so he could push up his glasses and rub his eyes.

Silence.

Giles looked down to the now contented puppy which butted its head against the thin fabric of his t-shirt a few times, then fell asleep.

‘Of course,’ he said softly. ‘You miss sleeping next to a beating heart, don’t you? I assure you, you’re not the only one.’

Without slayer hearing she would’ve missed it. Buffy felt guilty for intruding however unwittingly on such an unguarded moment. There had been real sadness in Giles’ tone. She drifted off, reflecting on how it wasn’t fair…

The third time she surfaced, Buffy could hear low voices, both of them British and laced with sarcasm:

‘It is four-thirty in the morning, you’ve just woken me up and now you want money. Really Spike, couldn’t you have worked out how this conversation would conclude and spared me the burden of having to attend it?’

‘Calm down, mate. A fellow can ask, can’t he?’ So you were asleep?’

‘Yes.’

‘In your clothes,’ Spike’s voice took on a mean mocking edge. ‘Too pissed to make it to bed, eh? That’s pitiful, you poor bastard. Those kids really did a number on you. One minute you’re all a cosy little Scooby family, the next they’ve moved on, leaving poor old…’ the vampire hit the word ’old’ with malicious glee…‘Rupes far behind.’

That so wasn’t what had happened! Buffy was tempted to go down there and knock Spike through the wall, but she was so very comfy, and Giles could handle himself.

‘Do keep your voice down.’

‘Why, ‘ose going to hear? Someone there?’

Giles faked an expression of nonchalance a fraction too late.

‘There is, isn’t there? Well bloody hell, this changes everything.’

‘How so?’

‘Simple, mate. If you don’t give me enough dosh to get myself some blood, beers and other lovely things. I’ll tell her.’

‘What?’

‘Well, you must’ve spun a hell of a line to pull. No one’s going to drop ‘em for a one time librarian, some time Watcher and full time depressive, now are they? Go on what crap did you st-st stutter out to seduce her?’

‘It wasn’t crap and what makes you think Giles did the seducing?’

Both men span around to face Buffy who was leaning over the edge of the balcony, smiling down at them.

‘No way! Not you two.’

Spike began to laugh as he turned back to Giles.

‘This is a wind-up. Got to be. There’s not a chance that you’ve smashed the back door off of your Slayer.’

Buffy didn’t understand the phrase though she could guess at its meaning, it was obviously offensive as Giles’ reaction proved. He grabbed Spike by the front of his shirt, pushing him up against the wall.

‘Don’t you dare refer to Buffy in that way,’ his words would’ve had less effect had he raised his voice, the level threatening tone Giles employed made him sound truly dangerous. ‘If I ever hear that again - you will be dust.’

He let go. Spike stood his ground for a second, obviously deciding whether to save face and make another comment or leave. He chose the latter - it wasn’t worth the risk.

‘Buffy, why on Earth did…’

‘Giles, breathe,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s okay. Spike’s gone and I’m so going to grab some more sleeping time.’

Knowing when to give up, Giles closed his mouth and stared up at his Slayer. Since starting college she had acquired a new confidence and maturity. Her lack of concern over the implication she’d just made to Spike and the reaction it solicited was another example of the independence that had seen her withdraw from him almost totally over the recent months. She was beautiful, vivacious and magnificent. Buffy vanished from sight, then appeared again.

‘Good night, or good morning - whatever.’

She gave him a dazzling smile and disappeared. In that moment Rupert Giles fell in love.

********************

Buffy stretched luxuriantly, wincing a little as she felt a pull in her now almost as good as new shoulder. A couple of hours had passed and she was wide awake, a glance over the edge told her that Giles was in exactly the opposite state, sprawled out on the couch. The puppy had escaped from it’s box and was wandering about, sniffing and nibbling things. Anxious to contain it before it could do any real damage, Buffy snuck down the stairs as stealthily as she knew how, grabbed the dog and returned with it to bed.

The puppy settled quickly, burying itself in the folds of the duvet, Buffy, less so. She didn’t want to just leave without saying anything and equally she didn’t want to wake Giles up when the guy so obviously needed to sleep. Bored, Buffy looked around for something to occupy her: there was a small pile of books on the table next to the bed. Buffy was surprised to see that they were all fiction and in no way demon or vampire related. None of the titles were familiar to her, so she grabbed one at random and began to read.

********************

Giles woke to a chilling sound that propelled him off the couch - Buffy was crying. He paused at the foot of the stairs.

‘Buffy, are you alright? May I come up?’

‘I’m fine…’ she gulped in some air and tried to control her voice…‘being a total spazz.’

Deeply concerned Giles quickly mounted the rest of the stairs, to find Buffy sat up in bed, clutching one of his books, tears pouring down her face.

‘Had that not been love?’

For a brief moment he thought that she had been hurt more gravely than he’d realised and was now delirious.

‘Had that not been love?’ Buffy repeated.

Giles made the connection, recognised the quote, relaxed and laughed softly as he took 'Mrs Dalloway' from her and sat on the edge of the bed.

‘Your first time, I take it?’ He asked quietly.

Buffy nodded shakily.

‘Discovering Virginia Woolf is one of the most intense literary experiences you can have. I read this,’ he gestured with the shabby paperback. ‘A-and was quite undone. Much like yourself.’

‘But it’s wrong,’ said Buffy passionately.

‘Wrong? This is one of the most perfectly constructed novels in the English language, how can it be at fault?’

‘Because Clarissa loves Sally and she loves Peter. They’re all too scared to do anything and end up hurting and apart.’

‘Which is where the beauty and resonance stems from,’ explained Giles patiently, though inside he couldn’t quite believe that Buffy was in his bed discussing an icon of twentieth century literature.

‘At least Sally and Clarissa have families. Peter ends up the lonely person whose not got…’

‘The solitary traveller who has had his fun,’ corrected Giles.

‘So sad,’ said Buffy once again as tears threatened to fall once more.

‘It is and quite wonderful for it.’

Buffy’s tears were checked by a sudden curiosity.

‘You really love this, don’t you?’

‘If I could only read a single book again, I believe 'Mrs Dalloway' is the one that I would choose.’

‘This copy?’

‘For preference.’

Buffy grabbed the book and flicked back through the pages to the inscription on the flyleaf, written in a loopy, feminine hand. She attempted to read it out before Giles, unable to tolerate her mangling of the language, quoted it to her.

‘Ego mos diligo vos, totus dies of meus vita.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘A great deal to me,’ replied Giles with an air of finality. ‘I’m glad that it is the drama unfolding in Westminster and at Bourton that is distressing you. Not your injuries.’

He was trying to make light of the situation, however Buffy wasn’t fooled. He’d been scared, he always was for her. It was a Watcher/Slayer thing and like so much between them was never discussed.

‘Injuries, bah! Slayer healing and stunning medical back-up gets the job done.’

Buffy showed Giles how the wound on her shoulder had already faded to little more than a thin red line. Of the other bruises and scrapes there was no sign.

‘Excellent. You are amazing.’

And she was. He really should say more to her, until last night he’d wanted to ask her where the hell she’d been recently, make her understand a little about the consequences of her actions, however once she’d walked in, it was enough that she was back.

If he believed that he stood the remotest chance of success, Giles would try to make that extraordinary lie she’d told Spike reality - only he’d damn well be the one doing the seducing, but he knew that Buffy would never be swayed from the all-American perfection of Riley. Quite right too, what could he realistically offer her anyway, no doubt he would make her as miserable as he sometimes made himself.

‘It’s a tough job, but someone has to set the standard for humanity,’ Buffy quipped.

Not that you do too badly, she thought. This was the longest time they’d been distanced from each other and Giles had made it so easy for her to come back into his life. It felt normal and waking up in his bed felt right, she and Riley were acting out roles, she and Giles accepted each other totally for what they were. Buffy wondered what would happen if she tried to make the careless lie she told Spike come true. Giles would reject her, he’d be very sweet about it, but the answer would be ‘no’. That was of the good, she had nothing to offer him anyway, no doubt she would make him as angry as she sometimes made herself.

Then she thought of 'Mrs Dalloway', how every page was shot through with regret, loss and longing. That didn’t just happen in stories, it could easily happen here too.

‘Giles, can I finish the book?’

‘Certainly, you’re welcome to borrow it when you leave.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘Borrow the book?’ Giles sounded confused.

‘Leave.’

Hazel eyes met green in an exquisite moment of perfect clarity. It was a Watcher/Slayer thing; there was no need for discussion.

The End


Challenge Specs:
Season: any will do
Three requirements for your fic:
1)A baby. (not necessarily theirs, not necessarily human (but think animals, people, not vampires!. As long as it's a baby)
2) Buffy reading a novel Giles likes.
3) A tasteful, non-cheesy amount of H/C.
Three restrictions for your fic (characters, genres, ratings):
No character death for B or G.
No slash or PWP.
Rating preference: No explicit sex please.

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