summer_of_giles | B/G Drabbles Part 5 of 5

Last four. Thank you to everyone who has left feedback so far. Thank you for giving me the oppurtunity to share in the Giles love. Enjoy the rest of the Summer of Giles.

Candles

There were thirty of them. One for every year of her life. Dawn had insisted. She was now the longest lived Slayer on Council record.

Thirty years. And the last ten of them spent married to her soulmate, Giles. On her twentieth he’d tried to give her a birthday kiss, but had missed her cheek. They hadn’t looked back since.

On her 21^st he’d asked her, she said yes. Shortly after her 23^rd, they’d had a son. Two years later, a daughter. Two years ago, twins, boy and girl.

She blew out the candles, her wishes fulfilled.

“Happy Birthday, Buffy.”

Dance (dancing)

Who knew Giles could dance? I don’t mean like what the Scoobs and I did at the Bronze. I mean proper tux and dress wearing, hold you close, romantic kind of dancing.

Dawn needed to learn for a thing at school. Giles taught her and watching them made me fall in love with him just a little more. Then I asked him to show me how to dance like that. A dance led to a kiss.

Now we plan to dance like that at our wedding. Our first dance as man and wife. I should have learnt to dance sooner.

Computers

Willow despaired that I would never learn how to work the damned things. She inevitably took over doing all the hacking and searching, but I vowed not to let them get the better of me.

So I bout one of those ‘dummy’ books and taught myself. Now I know all about search engines and the internet and e-mails. Buffy and I started exchanging those shortly thereafter.

In fact I just got one, reminding me not to be late for dinner. Wonderful inventions these computers. Who knew they’d bring me the two loves of my life, Jenny and my wife, Buffy.

Hunger

As the dust settled from her latest kill, she could feel her hunger rise. It was like Faith had said, Slaying made you hungry, and not just for food. She hungered for him.

She found him at home, drinking tea and waiting. She pounced before he could protest, ripping clothes and attacking his mouth.

He responded in kind, pushing her against the wall, possessing her, claiming her, marking her as his. It was over quickly. They spoke, quietly and lovingly.

“Patrol went well, I assume?”

“It did, Mr. Giles.”

“Very well, Mrs. Giles.”

“We got any ice cream? I’m hungry.”