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Part Four
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By this time everyone had mingled their way into the dining hall. Giles pulled out Buffy's chair for her, and dinner proceeded without incident. A toast was given in Buffy's name, and she smiled modestly and said a quiet 'thank you'. Giles sat proudly by her side, enjoying the honor she was being paid as if it were him receiving it. She was a part of him anyway, he supposed.
As dinner came towards a close, soft music played from across the room. Men and women got up and headed towards the dance floor. Bevins headed straight towards the Slayer and boldly asked her to dance.
Buffy glanced at Giles, a look that only he could have understood. He nodded and she rose, accepting the other man's hand. Giles took a long sip of his drink as he watched Bevins take Buffy into his arms. He was much larger than her and she dwarfed next to him. After a few minutes of that torture, he decided it was time to keep the silent promise he had given Buffy as she left the table. He got up and walked purposefully across the shiny wooden floor, tapping Bevins on the shoulder. Buffy couldn't stifle a smile at the serious look on Giles's face as he 'rescued' her.
"May I cut in?" he asked with utter politeness.
"Certainly," the President said curtly, and dropped his hands from the girl's waist. He made his way quickly off the floor.
Giles turned to Buffy to see her beaming at him. "Thanks," she whispered. She reached up to circle his neck gratefully, happy to be near his...familiarity...again. He held his breath, and slid his hands from her shoulders down the slick satin of her dress to rest low on her hips. She licked her lips, unconsciously sending shivers along his spine, and he pulled her closer so she rested against his chest. He settled his cheek on the softness of her hair and swayed her to the music.
Stares landed on them, and whispers reverberated throughout the room. Had this pair joined the ranks of the hundreds before them who had somehow lost the line between duty and love? They didn't know themselves.
The banquet ended, and by the time they had said their final goodbyes, Buffy was all but asleep on her feet. The travel, the time change, and the late hours combined to wear her out. Bevins strolled over, one of the few Council members still remaining in the large room.
"Well Giles, it's been a fine evening." He looked to Buffy. "And Ms. Summers, you are an incredible woman. I wish you the best of luck in all that you are destined to undertake. Goodnight."
"Thank you," they said in sync, and Giles guided Buffy out the doors, but only after wrapping her in his tuxedo jacket. She was cold again, all for the sake of fashion.
"I'm so sleepy," she yawned.
"I know. I'm tired out too. We'll sleep late in the morning, have a big breakfast..." he continued soothingly on the ride home.
"Mmmm." Buffy muttered drowsily.
She made it to the room without falling asleep, but collapsed onto the nearest soft surface that she saw, which was the couch.
"No no Buffy, come on, let's put you in your own bed..."
"Mmm mmm," she said.
"Yes, come on." He scooped her up easily and carried her to her room and set her on her bed. What was he to do about undressing her? She couldn't go to bed in what she had on, but she was already sleeping soundly, and he didn't want to wake her.
"Buffy," he said, shaking her gently. "Wake up just for a minute so you can get out of your dress. Just stand up and I'll help you." He pulled her into a standing position, and set her on her feet. He moved behind her and slid her zipper down, revealing dark red underwear that matched the color of the dress. 'Oh, forbidden...' He slipped the dress off quickly and it pooled at her feet, and he tugged a long sleep shirt over her head, trying not to look at her body. His fingers unwittingly brushed her breasts as the shirt came down to cover her, and he drew a swift breath and backed away.
She was gazing at him with that open, honest, heavy-lidded look one gets when they are too sleepy to worry about putting up walls.
"Did you just undress me, Giles?" she asked simply, her voice free of accusation. He chuckled, and some of the tension floated away.
"Yes. Yes I did."
"Oh," she stated, and smiled. She dropped onto the bed and slid under the covers, her hair fanned around her like a halo.
"Giles?" she said, her voice sweet.
"Yes?"
"Do you feel left out?" He was confused. Was this sleep-muddled babbling?
"Left out of what?"
"Left out because *you're* not married to *your* Slayer?" She yawned again and snuggled deeper under the covers, probably not quite aware of what she was saying. Giles kept telling himself that, but the question had thrown him for a loop. What did she mean by that?
"I'm right where I belong, Buffy," he assured her. "Don't worry about it, alright?"
"OK. Goodnight Giles, love ya," she said, and opened her arms for a hug. She looked so little now...so vulnerable...he remembered that earlier he had been unable to convince himself she was as young as 16. Now, he wasn't sure she was more than 8.
"Goodnight, Buffy," he said softly, and hugged her briefly. He kissed the top of her head and left the room, turning off the light and shutting the door behind him.
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