FIC: BLAME IT ON BISKRA, OR WHAT BUFFY DID OVER HER SUMMER VACATION

[seldomifever.livejournal.com]

Title: Blame It on Biskra, or What Buffy Did Over Her Summer Vacation
Author: seldomifever
Rating: FRM
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Setting: Season 4, up to Fear, Itself
Disclaimer: Not!Joss
Word count: 5378
Thanks: to antennapedia for the prompts that led to this story and for helping me stick to a deadline. And to my sister for the quick once over, because I ran out of time to ask anyone for a serious beta read. All mistakes are my own.




Fifth-wheel Buffy trudged back to her dorm after a quick sweep of the cemeteries, painfully aware that she was now uni-wheel Buffy.

Quiet night. Well, mostly. There was that demon earlier, but the rest of the beasties seem to have taken the night off like they were supposed to. Stupid Halloween. Buffy could use a good fight right now. She frowned and kicked at a stone in her path. Her punt sent the pebble smashing into the taillight of a Mustang parked along the street, and she cringed and hurried away from the blare of the car alarm she’d set off.

This was all Anya’s fault. Why did Xander have to invite her along anyway? There they were, happily enjoying their post-demon slayage party, feeling only slightly nauseated from over-stuffing themselves, when Anya just had to start in about Giles rescuing them from that haunted house.

Giles had been busy in the kitchen refreshing their drinks, and had asked if anyone would like anything other than candy to eat.

"Ooh, I’ll take some of those weird cookies, if you have any."

"Don’t, Xander. You’ve already had a lot of chocolate, and I’m afraid if you have too much to eat, you won’t be able to have sex with me tonight."

Xander blushed and looked apologetically at his friends, "Um, Anya, I think..."

"Oh, there’s no need to do that. I just need you fully functional when we’re done visiting with your friends. I don’t want your full stomach to interfere with my plans. I’ve been ready to have sex ever since Giles pulled that chainsaw out of the bag and started cutting through the wall of that fraternity house."

A glass shattered in the kitchen. "Bloody hell!"

Everyone fell silent, quickly glancing at one another, unwilling to maintain eye contact. Buffy nearly choked on her Snickers. Giles had looked pretty amazing tonight, but she’d already seen him in full sexy chainsaw-wielding action a couple of months ago. He’d looked pretty hot then, too. Buffy felt a blush creep up her neck. It was so embarrassing, she refused to let her mind linger on anything that had taken place in those woods that night, and the fact that it was Giles who had made her feel…Ooh, bad, Buffy. Think of something else. But Anya was making that impossible.

"I haven’t seen anything so virile since I came to Sunnydale. One minute, I was asking Giles if he knew how to make a door, and the next, he was brandishing that machine. My knees felt weak and I got a funny tingle down..."

"O-kay..." Xander tried to interrupt, but Anya remained oblivious.

"Giles is handsome. You’d have to be blind not to see that. But I have always found Englishmen to be rather feminine. You have to admit they can seem kind of dainty..."

"Anya!"

"What? Don’t tell me you all weren’t thinking the same thing when you saw him with that chainsaw tonight."

Buffy glanced at the others and found them looking unusually flushed. She frowned. What was going on here?

"You must have noticed how he looked when he burst through the door, thrusting his way..."

"That’s it!" Xander leapt off the coach, pulling Anya up by her arm. "Enough of the disturbing sexy Giles talk!"

"Ow, Xander!" Anya tried to twist out of his grip, but Xander pulled her close and whispered something into her ear. She jerked back, eyeing him suspiciously.

"You will? And you are certain your father has one in the garage?"

Xander nodded and with a quick "See ya!" to the group, tugged Anya out the door.

Buffy let out a nervous laugh. She thought she’d been the only one affected by seeing Giles in action, but had assumed it had more to do with the last time she’d seen him like that than what she’d witnessed tonight. She felt a little jolt at the memory, and tried to still the shudder that ran down her spine.

"Well, that was all kinds of awkward," Buffy said, hoping no one would notice how nervous and guilty and surprisingly turned on she suddenly felt.

"I don’t know, guys. I thought Giles looked pretty impressive bursting through the door like that," Oz said from his spot on the floor by Willow’s feet. He reached up and laced his fingers with his girlfriend’s. Buffy watched them grin at each other. She couldn’t hide her grimace. Ew, what did that mean? Oz and Willow were having naughty thoughts about Giles, too?

"Yeah, I mean, who knew Giles even had a chainsaw?" Willow asked, scrunching up her nose. She leaned her head back over the end of the couch and called towards the kitchen, "Hey, why do you, Giles?"

Giles stepped out from his hiding spot behind the counter with his dustpan and broom in hand. "Sorry?"

"You know, have a chainsaw? It’s not like you need one living in an apartment." Willow played with Oz’s hand and shrugged at Buffy.

Giles’ face flushed from his hairline all the way down past the smattering of chest hair Buffy could see poking out from beneath his v-neck sweater. He glanced at Buffy, and she quickly looked away. She wasn’t just thinking about Giles’ chest. Un-uh.

“Um, I, I bought one over the summer, actually. Buffy and I needed it to, to dispose of an Iblis demon out in Breaker’s Wood.” Giles stole another peek at Buffy and caught her doing the same. He cleared his throat and studied the pieces of glass he’d swept up in the dustpan. Buffy suddenly found the pattern on the front door fascinating.

"Iblis? I don’t remember that one." Willow giggled, distracted when Oz’s hand hit a ticklish spot behind her knee.

Giles looked to Buffy for help.

"Oh, ah, that’s because Giles and I had it all under wraps. No need to involve you guys."

Oz studied Buffy for a second. "Iblis, huh? Sounds kinda familiar. Isn’t that the one that emits pheromones or something?"

Buffy’s blush stung like that hot towel wrap she and her mother had gotten at the Nob Hill Spa when they’d taken that trip to San Francisco after graduation. Only not as wet.

"Or something," she said. "Hey, look at the time. Is it midnight already?"

Buffy stretched, and caught Giles’ gaze lingering over her form. His eyes flicked up to hers, and for a moment, he froze. Giles shook off his daze, mumbled something that sounded like “sorry”, and scurried down the hall towards his bathroom.

Willow made a face. "That was weird."

Buffy attempted to look baffled as well.

"Oh, hey, I gotta get up early tomorrow. Gig in San Diego mañana. We better take off." Oz hopped up from the floor and brushed himself off.

"Yeah. I’m gonna stay at Oz’s tonight, Buff. Are you gonna be okay by yourself? I know you were feeling kinda bad about being all alone tonight. You upset? ‘Cause I can come home if you want."

Buffy smiled and squeezed Willow’s outstretched hand. "Thanks, Will, but you go be with your honey. I’m fine. I’ll just do a quick patrol and call it a night."

"Oh, good!" Willow sighed in relief, and then looked guiltily up at Buffy. Buffy’s hand tightened around Willow’s in reassurance and Willow smiled as she gave Buffy’s hand a quick squeeze back.

Buffy understood. Really. All her friends were gonna get busy tonight, and she wasn’t. She had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn’t freaked after the…the thing that had happened with Giles, she might be enjoying some smoochies of her own tonight.

Buffy looked down the hall. Giles still hadn’t come out of hiding. He didn’t even respond when Willow and Oz called out their goodbyes and thanks to him before leaving.

Buffy walked around slowly, picking up scattered candy wrappers and dropping them in the trash by Giles’ desk. She pushed the coffee table back to its original position, hoping to kill enough time for Giles to come back out before she ran out of excuses to stay. He didn’t. Buffy grabbed her Dorothy basket and considered waiting. They couldn’t avoid talking about what had happened between them forever, could they? They’d gone this long, though. And Buffy knew if she hadn’t gotten all a-twitter over seeing Giles like that again tonight, and then seen how everyone else had responded to him, she probably wouldn’t want to now. Buffy still had no idea what had gotten into them that night in August, but she knew one thing for sure: Oz was wrong about the Iblis; it did not emit pheromones.

With a heavy sigh, Buffy glanced down the hall longingly, and let herself out without a word.

**

August was hot. Like Africa hot. Or possibly South America hot, but definitely not the kind of weather you’d expect from a coastal town north of LA. Despite the record-breaking temperatures, the joy of finally having something to hunt after the slowest summer in the entire history of vampiric slayage left Buffy unable to resist the urge to jog all the way to Giles’ condo. The fact that the new demon was to blame for this unbearable heat made the prospect that she would soon get to slay even sweeter.

This summer had been difficult for Buffy. The final battle with the mayor had left the Sunnydale demon population dead, dusted, or otherwise defeated, and the monsters that had been strong enough to slink away, appeared unwilling to return to face one very cranky Slayer, who was just dying to burn off some of this pent up energy in a good fight.

Buffy pictured one particular vampire, disappearing into the haze of smoldering wreckage that had once been Sunnydale High, and she choked back a sob. She’d been coping surprisingly well with the loss of Angel this summer, though much of the credit for that had to go to Giles. He’d been keeping her busy. She spent every day at his house training and helping him sort through the boxes and boxes of books they’d rescued from the school’s library. Giles-time seemed to be just what the doctor ordered.

Giles seemed so much more relaxed now he wasn’t her official watcher or high school librarian. Buffy always knew he was brilliant, because he could speak at least five different languages fluently, and could read a whole pile more, um, un-fluently. But what really surprised her was that Giles actually had a sense of humor, and, sometimes, she had to admit that she found him almost charming. She could see how, objectively speaking, of course, someone might even find him attractive. For an older man. Buffy’s favorite thing about Giles still had to be that he was completely and utterly devoted to her, which, she had to admit, did not suck. In some sort of uber universe, Buffy might have been remotely interested in him.

But not in this one.

Buffy pushed aside her Gilesy thoughts, and picked up the pace, turning her morning jog into a flat out run to Giles’ house. This had the unfortunate side effect of turning her into a puddle of goo by the time she swung open the heavy wooden door and made her way straight for his refrigerator. She grabbed a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and gulped down half the contents in one shot.

"Ah, Buffy, good, you’re here," Giles said, tossing her a hand towel he must have brought from the bathroom linen closet. Buffy used it to wipe the sweat off her face, as Giles walked past the kitchen and over to the book he’d left open on his desk. He began reading her a passage on their latest demon foe, explaining its history and the best way to kill it. Buffy took the opportunity to sneak a deep whiff of the towel, while Giles’ back was still turned. Hmm. She loved the scent of his laundry detergent. Or was it fabric softener? Either way, it smelled just like him, and Buffy liked it.

She sipped her water and studied Giles through the kitchen pass-through. Huh. His tush looked pretty cute in those new jeans she’d made him buy when she’d dragged him to the mall with her last week. Buffy shivered despite the heat. She had not just checked out Giles’ ass. What was wrong with her today?

She walked over to look at herself in his mirror and groaned.

Giles stopped reading aloud. "Buffy, do try and pay attention. This is very important."

"Ugh. Have you seen what this heat is doing to my hair!" Buffy gathered the offending frizz from her neck and stood directly in front of Giles’ air conditioning vent. The breeze did little to cool her off as rivulets of sweat continued to trickle down her back. She turned her head slightly and caught Giles’ gaze lingering a little too long on her neck with that look he sometimes gave her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She smiled to herself.

Giles cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I’m afraid things are going to get a great deal worse in the next three days if the Iblis is allowed to complete the Biskra ritual. If my calculations are correct, the longer this demon remains at large, the greater the chances we’ll be facing a far more serious problem..."

"I know, I know. The simian wind..."

"Simoom."

"Whatever...will lay waste, yada yada yada."

"Buffy, this is serious. The last time the Iblis came to Sunnydale and completed the Zdba'ah of Biskra ritual.."

"All the birds fell from the sky, cows and bunnies died. I got it, Giles. We kill this thing, throw it into the fire, and then, voila! No more heat wave demon for another hundred years or so. Really, though, a fire—in this heat? Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this job?" She might have been going for pure whine, but it came out more like glee.

"Frequently. Time is of the essence, Buffy. It will not be enough simply to kill the Iblis; immediate dismemberment is essential. Modern metals are anathema to the demon. That is why I bought a chainsaw. It will hasten its disposal, considerably."

Buffy couldn’t resist. "Yeah, about that. Do you even know how to use a chainsaw? ‘Cause I’m thinking no." Giles was too cute when he was like this—all eager and earnest.

"Pardon?" And confused.

"You aren’t exactly someone I’d consider handy, you know? I think Giles; I think books, not tools. I’ve never even seen you..."

"I can assure you there are a great many things you’ve never seen me do. I am quite capable..." And indignant.

"Unless you count the time you tried to fix the Citroen when it died on our way back from Salinas."

"That was different. The fan belt..." And flustered.

"Oh, Giles, chill. I know you’re capable guy. And I’m sure you have many hidden talents. Deeply hidden…but talents, nonetheless."

"Yes, well." And bewildered.

**

Buffy raced through the forest, hurdling fallen oaks and chaparral, with the Iblis right on her heels; its terrible screech shooting through her senses like nails on a chalkboard. Somehow Giles had failed to mention that extra-special bonusy treat. The offshore breeze whipped suffocating winds through the hills above Sunnydale, where the heat felt so much worse than it had in the valley. Buffy could hardly breathe as she struggled to outrun the demon. She drew nearer to the clearing, finally able to see the orange glow just ahead. A little farther, and she would have the Iblis just where she wanted it.

Giles’s chainsaw kicked on in one pull, and Buffy dove out of the way as he appeared from behind the Madrone tree, slicing straight through the demon’s neck with one pass of the blade. Buffy looked up just as its head came rolling towards her and jumped out of the way with a strangled “eeylech” involuntarily squeaking out of her. She quickly recovered and threw the head into the flames of the fire she’d helped Giles build before setting off to bait the Iblis into the chase.

The wind spun around Buffy and Giles as they worked together like a well-oiled machine; Giles carving up the demon’s body, reciting the anti-Iblis spell he’d practiced on the car ride up and Buffy tossing the demony bits into the flame.

Buffy was grateful to have the easy part, because ever since Giles began working with that chainsaw, she could not peel her eyes off him. She’d seen that expression on his face before--all focused and determiney--but had it always looked so sexy? And the way the heat left his hair sticking to his forehead and twisting in little curls along the back of his neck? Yum. The need to touch him and to run her fingers through his hair startled her, because sweat? Ew. Totally not hot. But if that was true, why did Buffy have such an overwhelming desire to lick that little drop of it that inched its way along his jaw line. Buffy reached her hand up to touch it, and then abruptly stopped herself when she realized what she was about to do. She forced herself to look away and watched as the flames consumed the last of the Iblis. She guessed the spell worked, because the fire suddenly changed from yellow and orange to purple and blue, and then green before shooting straight up into the sky, and vanishing without a trace.

"Ooh, pretty!" Buffy said, louder than she’d intended, as Giles unexpectedly cut the power on his chainsaw. The wind and heat had disappeared along with the Iblis, and aside from the soft crackling embers of the nearly spent fire, the woods had grown very quiet.

"Beautiful," Giles remarked, his eyes never leaving her face. Buffy wiped the demon ichor from her hands onto her pants, and threw herself at Giles before she could change her mind.

**

Sunlight spilled through the windows, waking Buffy hours before she’d planned. She waited for the pounding headache and nausea she knew she’d have after indulging in too much candy at Giles’ and then too much vodka at the party she’d attended afterward, but it never came. In fact, Buffy felt pretty amazing, actually. Nothing could dampen her good mood. Not even that dream she’d just had of that night in the woods.

Buffy smiled and stretched her arms above her head, and took a deep breath. She swore she could smell the faintest scent of eau de watcher clinging to the Dorothy costume she’d apparently never changed out of last night. She threw back her blankets and looked down. Ew. And she’d left her hair in braids. Blech. She must have let that lobster down the hall ply her with more kamikazes than she remembered. He’d convinced her to join them after she returned from her mini patrol, and she thought, Why not? She might as well enjoy her only night off. She deserved a little fun.

The lobster, whose name she couldn’t remember, even though they’d lived down the hall from each other for close to two months, had led her to his room, where it seemed half the floor had come for the limey vodka treats. Someone handed her a little shot glass, and the rest of the evening was pretty much a blur. Buffy could remember laughing and drinking, and then tearing off the lobster’s claws when he began using his pincers on her. Alcohol and super strength were un-mixy things, she supposed.

At least the party had gotten her mind off Giles. Mmm Giles. She really needed to stop having these, these feelings towards him. It was majorly disturbing. And it wasn’t normal. Why couldn’t she just fall for someone her own age already? Professor Walsh would have a field day with her. She did nothave Daddy issues. Well, yes, okay, she did, but her lousy father was not the reason she seemed to be attracted to older men. Some older men. Two, to be exact. If she could just get past what had happened last summer, she knew she could stop fixating on Giles. Maybe if she allowed herself to think about it during the day, she could stop obsessing over it in her sleep. Buffy sighed. Okay. She looked at her clock. She’d give herself five minutes to run through what had happened, and then she would force herself to put it to rest, so she could finally get on with her life.

For the first time since August, Buffy allowed her thoughts to turn to the events of that night, letting herself delight in the memory of that unbearably delicious mouth of his tasting hers for the first time. Apparently, when not wrapped up in all of those dead languages or busy deciphering ancient texts, his mouth had the ability to make her quiver right down to her toes. Buffy brushed her fingertips over her lips. Even now the memory of how his tongue felt dipping in and out of her mouth seemed to make her tremble.

Buffy’s hands ghosted across her breasts, lingering momentarily over her hardened nipples, before mimicking what his had done that night, tweaking them her through her clothes before dragging her shirt over her head and tearing her bra down to her waist. Ooh, and that tongue that had brought such pleasure to her mouth, delivered even more as he latched onto her, nibbling and teasing in the exact way she’d always wanted, but had lacked the knowledge and experience to realize.

Her hand traced an invisible line from her heart down to her navel, just as his mouth had. It felt as though he was worshiping her entire body, treating every inch of her skin with as much attention as others had given her more obvious erogenous zones. His mouth dipped lower still, and she heard him gasp as he slowly dragged her panties down passed her knees with great care. And then it was Buffy’s turn to gasp, as she ran her fingers through his hair and held him close.

God, how the heat of him pressed up against her, with her legs wrapped around his waist and her back up against that tree, made her ache in a way no other lover ever had.

Buffy groaned at the memory, and then groaned again when she realized what she was doing. Gah! Enough! No more yummy Giles thoughts.

She sprang out of bed, determined to clear her mind and erase any lingering scent of Giles, whether real or imaginary, from her brain. She grabbed her robe and her little pink shower caddy, and headed off to the bathroom.

An hour later, a well-coiffed, freshly-showered Buffy jogged down the streets of Sunnydale. She needed to burn off some energy, she’d decided. Run a few miles, workout at the university gym, possibly even go for a swim in the Olympic-sized pool Frankenstein had told her was great at the party last night. See? She remembered something from the night before.

Buffy turned the corner of the parking lot outside Thompson Hall, when she heard someone shout her name.

"Buffy!" Willow called again, louder this time.

Buffy stopped cold, her heart danced wildly beneath her chest.

There he was.

Well, there they were: Willow and Giles standing beside the propped-up hood of Giles’ Citroen. A toolbox balanced precariously on the edge of the engine. Willow held a round engine part, looking pleased to be of some help. Giles shifted uncomfortably, dropping his eyes from Buffy to the ground. He held a screwdriver in one hand and a dirty rag in the other, and had the sexiest smear of grease across his brow Buffy had ever seen. Her heart stopped dancing and took up spinning back flips instead.

"Good morning, Buffy," Giles managed before shyly looking away.

"Whatcha doin’?" Buffy decided to play it cool. She’d seen Giles plenty of times since August. She didn’t need to get all excited now, just because he’d looked so unbearably tasty last night.

And this morning.

What was it with her and tools anyway?

"Giles is having car troubles," Willow piped in. "He’s trying to get it started before the evil tow trucks start a-comin’. But I guess you knew about his car already, ‘cause he couldn’t get it started last night after he drove you home."

"Wha-? Giles didn’t drive me home, Will. What lies are you spreading watcher-mine?" Buffy teased and nudged Giles with her elbow.

He looked kind of confused and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a little irritated.

"Lies?"

"Too harsh? We could call them fibs, if it makes you feel better."

At his surprised look, she continued: "Giles, I left while you were still hiding out in the bathroom, right after the guys took off. I made a quick sweep of the cemeteries, which I gotta say, were dead...I mean, more than usual, which kind of annoyed me, ‘cause I could have used a little action last night..."

That didn’t come out right.

"Not action as in action, but that tiny fear demon didn’t put up too much of a fight, you know? I needed to burn off some pent-up energy. Slaying energy. For slaying," she finished weakly. "Okay, I think I’ll just stop speaking now."

Giles smiled, and ducked his head in that modest little way he did that made her stomach join her heart in its gymnastics routine. He bent over the engine. Buffy pried her eyes off of his backside and back onto Willow.

"Giles said you came back to his house. After some party?"

Buffy knitted her brow. Returned to Giles’ after the drink fest? She did not. But hazy images of riding in his car last night suddenly filled her mind. Ooh. Yikes. Buffy cringed.

'Party? Oh, there was just something, um, down the hall. Impromptu post-party party. Lobster guy invited me when I got back." Buffy knew she sounded distracted. She tried to run back over the evening’s events. Yummy candy-flavored lime drinks. Grabby lobster. Clawless lobster. A present yelling at the lobster? Buffy shook her head. She couldn’t fathom and decided not to try.

"Lobster guy? You mean Bob?"

His name was Bob? She couldn’t remember Bob? What was wrong with her anyway?

She could remember leaving the party, and the next thing she could recall was…oh. Oh, no…a rumpled Giles answering his door, dressed only in pajama bottoms with the cutest bed hair sticking straight on end. Buffy eyes closed tight. No. No more. She really couldn’t bear to remember what happened next.

"Oh, Buffy, take this."

Willow thrust the car part into Buffy’s hands. "I almost forgot. I wanted to go to the Wicca Club’s Samhain celebration. We’re going to put food on all of the tombstones in Sunnydale as an offering for the wandering dead."

Buffy wanted to push the thing back at Willow and wished she’d made up some excuse to get out of there herself, but she found herself saying, 'Just don’t become food for the wandering dead, ‘kay? Get home before dark."

"Sure, Buff. Definitely home before dark. Good luck with your car, Giles."

"Thank you, Willow. Do be careful," Giles called from beneath the hood.

"Right. I’m careful girl. See ya!"

Buffy stared down at the do-hickey in her hands, twirling a wing nut around in it aimlessly. Visions of Giles’ gentle, but firm, insistence that he drive her home last night before something happened that they might both regret swirled in her head. Buffy fought the urge to run. She could do this. She was the Slayer. But the silence felt smothering and the urge to babble overwhelmed her. She decided to focus on what Giles was working on.

"What am I holding?"

"The cover for the air filter. I’m trying to get enough air into the carburetor. The fly got stuck and I’ve flooded the engine again."

"Flooded the engine? You said that last night."

Giles turned his head and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you didn’t remember anything that happened last night."

Buffy felt the blood rush to her face. "I don’t. Not too clearly at any rate," she answered truthfully. "Did I...did I embarrass myself beyond belief?"

Giles left the screwdriver in the center of the air filter and looked her in the eyes, while slowly wiping his hands off with the rag.

"I’d say that depends. How would you define ‘beyond belief’?"

Buffy scrunched up her face. "I guess it was bad, huh?"

Giles continued to watch her, his expression giving nothing away.

"Buffy, as much as I would like to continue this scintillating conversation, I would like to finish this first, if I may."

Buffy pouted. "You’re angry with me?"

"Hardly." Giles gave a little half-smile. "Would you mind starting the car for me, please? The keys are in the ignition." He pulled the air filter cover from her hand, brushing his fingers slightly over hers. A little tremor shot through her at his touch. Buffy swallowed hard and nodded.

She stumbled over to the driver’s side of the Citroen and plopped down in the seat. She breathed in the smell of oil and must and somewhere in the mix, that Gilesy scent that had captured her heart over the summer, and Buffy suddenly remembered something else from the night before. She sat frozen, stunned at the realization she’d come to last night as Giles drove her back to the dorms: She wasn’t just in lust with her watcher; she was in love.

"All right, Buffy," Giles called from under the hood.

All right? Buffy didn’t think so. She bit at her lip and wrung her hands. She wasn’t sure she could do this.

"Buffy, start the car, love."

Love? Love? Oh, the car. Right. Buffy fumbled for the keys and twisted hard. Too hard. Her hand smashed against the dashboard as the key snapped off in the ignition. Oops. At least it started.

"Um, Giles..." Buffy called out softly, but he couldn’t hear her over the banging and choking of the engine. She watched him slam the hood shut and wipe his tools down with the rag. It felt so different to look at him now. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Every movement captivated her. Giles glanced up as he picked up his toolbox and their eyes met.

Buffy closed her eyes. Could he see? Did he know? Was it written all over her now? She should tell him. She needed to tell him. She needed to do it quickly, before she lost her nerve like she had last night.

"Giles!" She yelled above the din.

"Yes, Buffy," Giles answered, inches from her ear. Her eyes popped open in surprise and she turned to face him as he crouched at the open door beside her.

"I..." love you.

"I..." can’t lose you.

"I...broke your key." Buffy handed Giles what was left of his car keys.

Giles clasped his hand around hers and held the keys up for inspection.

"What? How did this happen?"

His hand stayed on hers. Buffy looked into his eyes searching for the annoyance she knew he must feel, but found none. She reached up and wiped off grease from his forehead with her thumb. She slid her hand along his cheek. Her eyes dropped to his mouth.

"Buffy?"

"I’m sorry, Giles."

"For the key?"

"For this," Buffy said as she leaned in to give Giles a kiss.

Giles let her kiss him for a moment, and then pulled away.

"Buffy, please, if you aren’t serious..."

"I am serious, Giles. I…I love you. I’m sorry. I never meant to, but I…I can’t stop thinking about you." She tried to drag him down for another kiss, but he pulled away again.

"Giles?" Buffy studied his face. Was he rejecting her? He looked flustered and hurried. To get away from her?

"I’m sorry, Buffy. I may be in love with you, but there’s no way I’m letting you drive my car. You need to shove over."

Buffy climbed across the console and into the passenger seat, happier and more at peace than she’d felt in ages.