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Part Two
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After filing off the plane and retrieving their baggage, Buffy and Giles proceeded across the airport to the car rental counter and picked up the keys. The Council really had taken care of everything, and the car was waiting at the curb and ready to go.
"It's freezing out here!" Buffy exclaimed, and Giles shook his head at her determination to dress for Sunnydale summer when it was a cool 58 degrees in England.
He slipped out of his jacket and handed it to her. "Here, wear this."
She took the coat from him and put it on, warmed immediately by the leftover traces of his body heat. He opened the car door for her and got her settled inside before going around to put their things in the trunk.
The ride to the hotel was uneventful; Giles seemed to know where he was going. Buffy's eyes widened in awe at the massive hotel that stretched into the sky above her.
"The Council seems to have spared no expense," he said by way of explanation of their fancy surroundings.
Giles gathered their bags and ushered her into the lobby, hand at the small of her back, guiding her towards the counter.
"Hello, may I help you?" the cheery receptionist chirped. Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Yes, reservations for Rupert Giles."
"Oh! Mr. Giles! Forgive me for not recognizing you! It's a pleasure to have you stay with us. I'm Mrs. White, and if you need anything at all please let me know and I will take care of it personally." She hit a bell and Buffy was immediately bewildered by a flurry of activity surrounded them: servants taking their bags and trying to make themselves useful to these new, important guests. Mrs. White peered behind Giles curiously, trying to catch a glimpse of the Slayer.
"And this must be the..." she whispered reverently, looking at Giles. He smiled, and turned to take Buffy's arm gently, bringing her into the view of the woman.
"Yes, this is Buffy Summers."
"Ms. Summers, it is a great honor to meet you. I'm a member of the..." she lowered her voice in such a serious way that Buffy wanted to laugh... "Council."
"Oh, nice to meet you too," Buffy said, and extended her hand. Mrs. White stared at it in reverence, took it gently for a moment as if it would crumble, and then released it.
"Well, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you're tired from your flight. You have adjoining suites on the 12th floor. Jed will show you to your room." The old man nodded and picked up their bags. "Enjoy your stay!"
"Thank you," Giles said politely, feeling like a body guard as he again placed a protective hand low on her back, trying to shield her from the gazes of curious onlookers. The irony of this wasn't lost on him; Buffy was the last person on earth that needed protection...at least in the physical sense.
When they were finally behind the door of their suite, bags piled on the floor, Buffy let out a breath.
"Whew, god, it's like we're celebrities or something!"
"Yes, well, knowledge of the world of the undead is much more accepted here. I'm pretty sure that Mrs. White was the only one who actually knew why there was such a fuss anyway, which is good. All those other people were just curious."
"So this is really just a big chance for you to show me off, huh?" she asked, smiling knowingly.
Giles blushed a little, but he couldn't lie to her. "Well, traditionally, when you get right down to it...that's exactly what is it. A Watcher's chance to take his moment of glory." She smiled.
"And the Slayer just gets to come along for the ride?" she questioned. Giving him a hard time was always fun.
"No...you know what I meant."
"So I'm your claim to fame huh? Such a big deal over little ol' me..."
Buffy laughed softly and walked around the room, inspecting it. "Nice," she commented. "So what time does this thing start tonight?" she asked, stretching out on the couch, laying at a 90 degree angle to where Giles was sitting in an overstuffed chair.
"The *banquet*," he emphasized, trying to correct her grammar, "Begins at 7:00." He checked his watch. "It's five now."
Buffy sat up. "Well, I guess I better start getting ready. I can't look like this," she glanced down at her windpants and t-shirt, and pulled a band out of her hair, "For my own party."
Giles nodded and watched her until the door to her room clicked shut softly.
* * *
It was 6:58, and Giles tapped lightly on her door.
"Buffy? Buffy we really should get going...we don't want to be late..."
He was quieted when the door opened and she stepped out. His breath caught in his throat, and he had to remind himself to take in more air.
She looked absolutely stunning. Clad in the deep red satin gown...it was fitted and it hugged her curves in just the right places. She took another step, and half of a tanned thigh slid out through a slit in the side of the dress as she walked. Her hair was piled on top of her head elegantly, and a few wisps fell to frame her face. His mind kept telling him that she was 16, but, standing here looking at her, he just couldn't accept it. He took a step back to regain his breath and to look her up and down. She stood there, waiting expectantly for a comment of some kind.
"Beautiful," he said, when a coherent thought could be formed. When his eyes finally made their way back to her face, several moments later, her eyebrow was raised and a little smiled curved her lips. She turned around once.
"You like?"
"Yes, you look lovely," he breathed.
Buffy took in Giles's appearance. He wore a tuxedo...now that was something she thought she'd never see.
"You look nice too," she said in approval, and brushed the shoulders of his jacket with her hands. He shuddered at her close proximity, but thankfully, she didn't seem to notice.
"I don't do you justice," he said quietly, and he meant it.
"Don't be silly," she smiled. "You look *smashing*," she said with a laugh and a British accent. "Now we better get going!"
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