summer_of_giles | B/G fic - Where You'd Least Expect It

Here's my story I promised to write for today's entry. It's 100% unbeta'd. Sorry about that. I'll try and fix it up a bit when I get the chance. Hope y'all like it!

So, okay, you might ask me, what happened? Just when, exactly , did you fall for your Watcher? At what point in time did you decide, Buffy Summers, that it would be a good idea to develop a crush on your former father-figure type, quarter-century older, has no idea you might ever feel this way, friend? Well, you can just shove it. Because it's not like it was a conscious decision. It's not like I was all "Hey, I know what I'll do today…I'll totally turn my world upside down so that I can spend the rest of my life miserably and unrequitedly in love with Giles." Although, honestly, it's not like it came on real slow, either. Well, at least not that I knew of. Much.

Thing is, we work together. At least for now - I may get fired soon for being so distracted and weird all the time. When everything was over and done with last year, it seemed like the only logical choice to come back here and help Giles set up shop. It's not that I ever had a real strong urge to visit London or anything - okay, I will admit to being curious about England, since it's where he comes from and all - but with Dawn and all the craziness and no more Sunnydale…I just didn't really have a lot of good options that made sense. And even though me and Giles weren't, like, bestest buds back then, I still figured he was the safest one to follow around, at the time. Truthfully? I was scared shitless. I had no idea where I should go or what I should do or who I should be. How do you go from being "the one girl in all the world" to one girl in a world full of 'em?

So Dawn and I came here…well, not here, exactly. We went with Giles to his house in Bath first. It was a little weird. We really didn't even leave his house but maybe once or twice the whole month we were there. I think we were both a little exhausted from the battle royale with the First, and I was a little exhausted from the lifetime of maximum stress. So we just let him take care of us, as usual. Not exactly as usual, though. We were living with him, which was different. And it wasn't so much like he was our father…it was more like he was the husband who would come home at the end of the day, bringing dinner with him and asking about everyone's day. I don't think I really thought of him as my husband, specifically, but it was just…different. And living with him was a totally new experience. Nothing like when he crashed on our couch for a while last year. It was really weird and intimate. Like, I knew his whole schedule, how he liked his tea, how long his showers were. I accidentally bumped into him once when he was coming out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, etc. And if I'm being completely honest - and I promised I would be - that may have actually started this whole thing. 'Cause hot damn if my Watcher doesn't look seriously good with no shirt on.

We really settled in at Giles's place. Got a little too comfortable actually. We'd hang out all the time, watch movies together on his couch, just the three of us. Sometimes Dawn would cuddle up against me, and I'd lean on Giles's shoulder. Once, actually…well, I had my legs across his lap, and he was totally, like, rubbing his thumb up and down my calf. I mean, it was totally absent-minded, I don't think he even noticed he was doing it. That is, until it sent a chill through my body. I think he might have noticed the shiver.

So I start having these goofy new feelings for stuffy British guy, and I was experiencing much in the way of freakage. Moving out seemed like a good solution. Besides, it was always the plan to move out eventually. But I was definitely bummed out when the time came, and I know Dawn was too.

I didn't exactly fix my little problem though, unfortunately. Like I said, I still work with the guy every day. He's heading up the new Council, with me as his right-hand woman. I actually didn't think he'd be needing me around that much, but it turns out that being the longest living slayer, etc., really makes me kinda vital. Or at least that's what he says. And to tell you the truth (which is the whole point, right?), working with him has been the worst part. Our dynamic is totally, well, different. I can't really explain it, but the way he treats me just really throws me for a loop. Like…an equal, or something. Not like a kid, or a petulant slayer, or even a daughter he adores. He acts like we're friends, and colleagues, and can I just admit that it's got me wigging? That he appreciates my contributions, I can handle. But it's not just that. He acts like I'm all grown up now, or something. Which I guess I am. Cool.

Besides all the collegial attention, we're also, like, best of friends now. We eat lunch together practically every day. We hang out on the weekends. He helps me pick out stuff for me and Dawn's new apartment, and I help him pick out ties. And you know what? He actually takes my advice most of the time. Me and my big fat mouth.

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

So Giles and I are having lunch in the breakroom at Council Headquarters (how surreal is that, right?), and I'm just kinda looking at him and thinking, what's the big deal? It's obvious to me now that I like him in a like him like him kinda way, and those feelings aren't going away, so why not do something about it? Test the waters, you know?

I ask him if it's been a while since he's dated anyone, and he nearly chokes on his salad. He says it has been a while, and why do I ask? I explain that maybe even though things were kinda fucked up back in Sunnydale (I put it more delicately than that, I swear), that maybe now we should take a chance and put ourselves back out there. For now, I left out the part about putting ourselves out there…together. He tentatively agrees that we should, and at the most inopportune freaking moment, Charlie walks up. (He's just one of the new watchers, and now my worst enemy). Charlie butts in and mentions that he's got this friend, and she's beautiful and smart and interesting and BLAH BLAH BLAH, and thank god Giles says he hates blind dates. But stupid Charlie doesn't give in and promises that "Natasha" and Giles would really hit it off, and pushes and pushes until Giles finally agrees. I assume the date will go badly, and reassure myself that just because Charlie thinks she's "gorgeous" and "charming" doesn't mean Giles will.

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

Little did I know, the very next week my little world starts to unravel. His date goes better than expected. Much better. Apparently Natasha is "intriguing" and "pleasant." Giles-speak for "funny" and "hot." And he will not shut up about her. I know we're friends now and everything, but there's a limit to share-time Buffy. It's like, he doesn't even mean to bring her up, but somehow she just keeps coming up. Three dates later, I just can’t take it anymore. I tell him to keep it to himself.

And then, of course, his feelings get all hurt, and I feel bad, and I explain to him that I want him to talk to me, but to just leave all the stuff with Natasha out. He gets all pissy and accuses me of not wanting to hear about his personal life because he's "old and gross" and says he thought we'd gotten past that (which we most definitely have), that we are better friends than that, now. He even brings up Spike. Low blow, right? Says that things were better when we were open with each other (my, how the emotional marathon man has grown), and that things like what happened back in Sunnydale were all because we were too afraid of communicating with each other.

I respond with a "whatever."

Then he says that he just wants to talk to me because I'm his friend, and that I mean a lot to him. I hate it when he does that. How can I be mad at him when he does that? Especially since he's got no clue why I'm so worked up about this in the first place. I tell him I'll try. He's clearly still confused, but we go on with the day, only slightly less awkward now.

And then comes my genius plan to make this work. I avoid him if at all possible, and wait for the day when Giles will inevitably wake up and see that this Natasha woman is no good for him, and that I'm perfect for him, right under his nose the whole time. Awesome plan, right?

We talk less and less, but he and Natasha go out more and more. She even came to meet him at the office for lunch the other day. Doesn't she know that I'm his lunch buddy? It's just unbearable. And since I don't have the guts to actually say anything to Giles about it, I decide to leave. I tell Giles I'm bored with London and want to be reassigned somewhere else, and he gets this totally hurt look on his face, and I react badly. I kinda sorta accidentally on purpose start a fight with him and say that maybe I should just take some time off altogether and he says maybe you should and I just leave.

He actually tries to smooth things over, a couple of times. He comes by the apartment with my paychecks and tries to talk me into coming back to work. I tell him to just slip it under the door and go away. Honestly? I feel really bad because I know I'm hurting him but what am I supposed to do? Open the door and let him see me crying because that's what his voice does to me nowadays? I don't think so.

Dawn keeps in touch pretty well with him, and her updates pretty much let me know that Natasha is here to stay, at least for now. Could I have handled all of this a little better? Sure. But you try making a move on your Watcher who's like, plenty of years older than you and more mature than you, who's now in a happy relationship with some gorgeous anthropologist and throw in a pretty massive fear of rejection just for fun.

Maybe I'll stop thinking about him. Like, if enough weeks pass maybe my feelings will just go away. But they don't, not really. I meet Jason one night at a West End bar, and he's sweet and polite and not at all unattractive, and rich to boot, so I decide to give dating a try. Maybe Jason can help me forget.

And when Jason invites me to go to Venice with him for a couple of weeks while he attends to some business in those parts, I can't think of a good reason not to. I send Dawn to stay with Xander for a while, since she's out of school for summer vacation. And I say goodbye to rainy London for the time being, hoping Venice will do the trick.

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

What am I doing with Jason again? Yeah, he's cute, yeah, he's got money. Sure, he's successful and sweet. What was I saying? Oh yeah. It's not fair to him, and it's not fair to me. I'm not over Giles. I can't stop thinking about him. I thought that by running away, not having to see him every day, not being around him anymore - I thought that would make the feelings I had just fade or something. But I'm not sure it hasn't gotten worse. I mean, it was bad not getting to have him for myself. But now? I miss him like hell. At least when we worked together I got to spend time with him, see him every day. Now it's been 3 months since we've spoken at all.

Anyway, enough weepy thoughts. Jason's gone on business in Verona, and I'm stuck here all alone. I guess "stuck" isn't the word to use when you're left alone in Venice with a luxury suite and a platinum card, but what the hell am I supposed to do with my free time? Wait in line for the Sistine Chapel again? I think not.

The concierge told me about an American bar in the Dorsoduro district. If they've got good french fries, it'll be worth the water taxi.

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

American? I guess the concierge thinks English and American are the same thing. Way to get my mind off things, Mr. Concierge, sending me to an English pub. Besides, I'm guessing the food here leaves something to be desired. I coulda sworn I hid some chocolate in my clutch here somewhere.

Oof. I really should look up when I'm walking. Although…if I run into guys who smell that good, maybe I should reconsid-

Oh Jesus. What's Giles doing here?

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

After asking him just that question in an accusatory tone, he reminds me that he could ask me the same question. I apologize for making him spill his beer. He says it's okay, and about a minute of silence passes awkwardly. He tells me that he's just watching a soccer game on TV, or a football game, or whatever he calls it, and I ask him what he's doing in Venice. He says he's here on business, mostly. I ask if he's alone, and he hesitates for a minute but then answers that he is. He asks what I'm doing here and I tell him that I'm here with a friend, but I don't feel the need to tell him his name. He doesn't seem to like that news, but I can't tell if that's because he thinks I'm a hypocrite, or something else. I get lost in my head for a minute, wondering if he and Natasha are still together. Ugh.

He asks me if I want to join him for a drink, and I fight my normal urge to run away and accept his invitation. I miss him, you know? So he buys me a beer, thankfully one that's a nice normal color, unlike the black sludge he's drinking.

He finally gets around to asking how I've been and I tell him that I'm fine. What a lie. Although I'm either better now that he's here with me, or worse. Not quite sure which. I ask how's work, and he tells me it's fine. That I'm missed. I ask if it's the Council that misses me, or someone specific. He says both.

I'm trying not to keep eye contact for too long, or I'll either start crying or he'll be able to read my mind.

After the weirdness passes, we end up sitting down for a few beers, catching up on things, and both thankfully leaving out any relationship information that might ruin it all. I eventually tell him that I miss him too. He looks grateful. We have a great time once all the deeper stuff wears off with a couple beers, and he offers to walk me to my hotel. I tease him about worrying for my safety, since I can still handle my share of vampires, especially the cheesy romeo types they've got here in Italy. Then I tell him that might be hard either way, since I'm staying on San Clemente Island. He laughs, and it just hits me. I've got to try. The longer I wait, the more likely it is that I'm just going to lose him forever. I make a plan, and ask him where he's staying. He says the Gritti, and I know where that is, so I say goodnight, kiss him on the cheek, and go on my happy way.

Once I'm back at the hotel, I pack my bag, make a phone call, and catch a taxi back to the San Marco district.

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

When he opens his hotel room door and sees me standing there, bag in hand with raccoon eyes, he looks surprised at first but then naturally his expression turns all concerned and sympathetic. I tell him that I had a huge fight with Jason (not exactly true) and that we broke up (true, once he checks his blackberry), and that I just couldn't stay there anymore (not really true, but how else was this plan supposed to work?). I tell him that even though I was able to con the desk clerk into telling me what room Giles was in, I wasn't able to con a room out of him since they're all booked up, and I just didn't know where else to go, and then for good measure I start crying again. Maybe it was my years in L.A., but I'm totally good at this acting thing. Especially when it's for a good cause.

Giles, of course, tells me to come in and that I can stay with him for the night, until we can find me somewhere else to stay tomorrow at a more godly hour. I jump up and hug him, which I think startles him a little bit but he eventually relaxes and hugs me back. That's my Giles.

He leads me into his suite, and it's really obvious why Giles would stay here. It's old, and everything is antique and elegant. Not as clean and new as my hotel, and I doubt it has the same kickass pool, but it's totally fancy and the bed looks awful comfy. He looks comfy too, in soft (well, they look soft) blue pajama pants and a just-tight-enough-to-show-off-his-nice-arms gray cotton t-shirt. Mmm.

Giles ask if I want to talk about it, and I explain that I'm mainly crying because it's late and I'm tired, not because Jason and I broke up (true, mostly). I tell him not to worry, and thanks again for letting me stay with you tonight. I put my hand on his leg, and he looks only slightly uncomfortable, but immediately gets up to grab a blanket and a pillow from the foot of the bed and brings it back to the couch. I tell him thanks but he explains that it's for him, and that I should take the bed, and I thank God for small blessings. I tell him that the bed is plenty big for the two of us, and that there's no point in him being uncomfortable for little old me. I threaten to sleep on the floor if he doesn't take me up on it. Works like a charm, and even though I can tell he's a little bit nervous about the arrangement, he does seem comforted by my presence. That is, until I change.

"Sorry, I didn't really bring anything else to sleep in," I explain (not true) as I slip under the covers in my sexiest white satin and lace slip, the one with the slit on the side. I know he can probably see the outline of my lace brazilian-cut panties, but to tell you the truth, that totally doesn't bother me. It seems to bother him though, but I've been a woman long enough to know the difference between "good" bothered and "bad" bothered. This was definitely of the good.

I respect him enough to at least stay on my side of the big king-sized bed, especially since he turned away from me in a "protect the fort" kind of gesture, but my foot does wander a little bit, and kind of softly rubs up against his. He lays perfectly still, and I swear to God he was pretending to be asleep, but I could feel the muscles in his leg tense. I giggle and close my eyes, waiting to pounce until after he falls asleep.

The next morning, when he wakes up to find me spooned against his back, I find it perfectly easy to act embarrassed and apologize for the unintentional cuddling. He stammers a little bit, tells me it's not trouble, and quickly runs to the shower. Am I like, a strategery mastermind or what? Proactive with pep, that's me.

When he gets out of the shower, he asks me if I have any plans for the day, and I tell him I really haven't gotten out to see a lot of the city (somewhat true), and he offers to give me a tour. I shower and change and we head out. This plan is so freaking awesome.

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

After a fabulous day of touring Venice with Giles, we ended up in the Piazza San Marco for dinner. And let me tell you, there is nothing more romantic than the Piazza on a summer night. The restaurant has a quartet playing, and little tables set out, lit by the tiny lights around the square. The weather is perfect. The music is perfect. Giles is perfect. And the wine ain't bad, either. After we finish dinner and while we're waiting for dessert, Giles asks me to dance in the square. I'm taken aback just a little bit, but jump at the chance before he rescinds the offer.

He takes my hand, and we start out pretty formal, but soon enough I've got my head on his chest and his hand is on the small of my back, and we're just swaying back and forth to the music. I speak up.

"Giles?" I say, to which I get no response. I repeat myself, a little louder this time, and he response with just a sleepy "Hmm?" with a smile in his voice. "This is nice," I say, which is the most idiotic thing to come out of my mouth in years. Maybe not, but god, I sound stupid. This is nice? Why even get his attention for that? He agrees that it is nice, and then I practically stroke out because I realize he's fingering a lock of my hair with the hand that's interlocked with mine. Jesus. It takes me awhile, but eventually I relax again, just letting him carry me to the music. God this feels good. At some point, the music stops, I guess even quartets get smoke breaks, but I swear we keep dancing for at least a full minute before we realize it.

Of course, I start straightening my skirt and fiddling with my hair, just to give myself something to do so I don't have to look him in the eye and explain why I'm clearly acting as though I'm in love with him, but I think he's doing the same thing, clearing his throat and checking his watch and looking over his shoulder, pretending to be distracted by something or other.

He gestures to our table and we go back and sit down. I down the rest of the liquid from what I thought was my water glass, since I've totally got cotton mouth from the crazy tension going on here, but I grabbed my wine glass instead, and now I look like some kind of drunk. I also think I might pass out.

He just chuckles quietly, obviously noticing my mistake. "Shut up," I say, trying to regain our former footing while I carefully choose the right glass for a drink of water.
"No, no," he says, mocking me and offering to order another bottle if I'd like one. "Want people. Where people go?" he imitates, and I tell him to shut up again and not bring up Cave Buffy if he knows what's good for him. He tells me he thought I was "quite adorable" all hopped-up on mystical beer, so I accept the compliment and let him live.

Why does he have to be so damn mysterious? I mean, he seems like he's having a good time, but when I look at him, I have no clue what he's thinking, I swear. He's happy, that's pretty obvious, but it could be like "I had a good meal" happy or "at least I'm not dead" happy or "I'd like to get it on with my slayer" happy, but I'm guessing that last one is just wishful thinking.

When we finish dessert (yum), we walk back to the hotel, and I grab his hand as we're walking. He squeezes mine, but when we get to the lobby, he lets go and turns to me. He offers to try and book me in another room, and even says the Council will pay for it. When I pout, he looks sorry but explains that although he enjoys my company, it really isn't appropriate, and besides…

I ask him besides what, and he reluctantly explains that Natasha will be joining him tomorrow.

It's been a while since active duty, but I still remember what a punch in the gut feels like, and that's about it.

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

Of course, instead of playing it cool, I go all spaz-tastic Buffy and run up to the room, throwing my stuff into my suitcase like I'm on crack.

He follows me in, apologizing for not telling me earlier, but really, what's all the fuss about? I tell him if he doesn't know, then I'm not going to tell him, which draws a HUGE sigh from his side of the room. I run into the bathroom, throwing open drawers (I'm not sure I even put anything in those, but it helps the dramatic effect) and generally making a mess. When I spot a box. A little jewelry box. A ring box, to be absolutely fucking specific.

And even though it's totally not my business, I drop what I'm doing, pick up the box, and open it. Oh. My. God.

I spin around, holding up the ring as a diamond-shaped accusation. "What is this?!" I yell at him, and he seems to catch on to my irrational rage. He answers that it's an engagement ring. A family heirloom. And I can't stop from crying now. Seriously, streams just running down my face. Out of control doesn't even begin to describe it at this point.

"You're going to ask her to marry you, aren't you?" I ask. When he doesn't respond immediately, I repeat myself, yelling this time. "That's why I invited her down here," he answers, almost whispering, and totally not looking me in the eye anymore. Oh god, he must think I'm totally batshit. I don't care anymore. "Her?" I yell again, crying even harder. He asks why I don't like her, which just makes me even crazier, because of course there's no good reason not to like her, she's fucking perfect. So I just blow him off, and I put the ring back, and finally stop yelling, but the crying continues. He quietly pleads with me as I start to gather up my things, a little more respectably this time, and when I reach the door, he grabs my arm, preventing me from leaving, saying he doesn't understand. "Please help me understand," he says.

I turn around to look him in the eye, and I feel bad. He's really hurt and upset, and confused, although he does seem to hold a little glimmer of recognition in his eyes, just under the surface. So I let my own shutters fall, looking at him with everything I'm feeling, with all of the pain and the confusion and love and tears. And he sees me.

He pulls me to him, and kisses me with a force that surprises me. He holds his hands to my face, wiping tears from my cheeks with his thumbs, and the kiss turns deeper and breathless, and he's not letting me go. When he finally releases me, I close my eyes for a moment, trying to do a quick mental tidy, and when I finish, I say I'm sorry, and leave.

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

I don't really know what came over me, exactly. By the time I had found a hotel nearby that was, you know, elsewhere, paid for a room with Jason's credit card (it was a little rich for my blood, and I'll pay him back, I swear), and collapsed into the bed, I figure it out. Besides that I'm a glutton for punishment, I realize that this is one of the most mature decisions I've ever made. Giles wants to marry Natasha. Just because he wants to kiss me doesn't change that. Hard to blame him, since he was the target of a very specific attack plan that succeeded in confusing the poor guy horribly. He's happy, and I just can't bring myself to take that away from him. I mean, I was right there with him all that time, so it's not like I wasn't an option. He just chose her over me, and I don't want to screw that up for him just because I know he cares about me and will pretty much do whatever I want.

This maturity thing sucks though. So I cry myself to sleep, and plan on flying out tomorrow.

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

And I do. Back in London, I try to make sense of the wreck I've made of things, back in the comfort of my apartment. Can I go back to work now? I think it will be too weird, and I don't know how much Giles-Natasha nuptial-planning I can take. I guess I really will try to get reassigned, and hopefully Dawn won't hate me too much for uprooting us all over again. I really wish Willow was here right now. I could use some serious girl talk. And possibly a slap upside the head.

I walk towards the phone, but there's a knock on the door. I'm not expecting Dawn back from Xander's 'til tomorrow, so I'm only a tiny bit hopeful it's Giles (true, except for the tiny part).

And it is.

He looks at me like I've never seen him look at me before. And he doesn't look confused anymore, either. Must be nice.

He cuts to the chase. Tells me that he's sorry. That he may be making a huge mistake, but he's got to say it.

He loves me. Always has, always will.

I remind myself to breathe.

He says he would've come sooner, but he had to do right by Natasha, and he couldn't do it overnight. He still feels bad about how he treated her, because he never should have let things get serious. Because he loved someone else. Me.

At this point, tears start falling again, but at least I'm not bawling like in Venice. Just tears.

He tells me that the only reason he was with Natasha was because he couldn't have me. Or thought he couldn't have me. Couldn't help the temptation of a family, of having kids, since he thought it could be his last chance. And she really was a nice girl, Natasha.

I tell him he can skip that part, and he chuckles, wiping a tear from my cheek.

He says that he knows I didn't make any grand proclamations of love or marriage or kids, but if there's a chance I might be willing to love him in any way, he would be the happiest man on earth. He waits.

I tell him yes. To all of it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ohh, all shmoopy and wonderful. Made me cry, which is a good thing!
Your Buffy voice is wonderful!

What a compliment! Thank you!

You are most welcome. It was wonderful enought for me to put in my memories. Something I will be reading again and again.

:claps:

Happy endings are the best.

I don't think I'm capable of writing an unhappy ending...I think the main reason I write fanfic in the first place is to give the series a happier b/g ending in my own mind. Thanks for the comment!

That my dear, was wonderful

Why thank you!

This is absolutely lovely lady! Absolutely fabulous narrative style - it's quick, got a great tempo, and seems very much like the exact way Buffy would tell a story. Thank you so much for sharing!

Thanks for the awesome compliments. The first person narrative and the tempo were kind of new to me, so I'm glad they worked. Thanks for hosting this community!

excellent fic!!! I liked hearing/reading it in Buffy's voice.

Thank you! I'm glad.

That was incredibly sweet. *s* I love your Buffy with all the "snaring Giles" strategies and trying to be grown up about things when they don't work out as planned.

Just sweet.

Thank you! I like it when Buffy's after Giles and not necessarily the other way around. I know I would be.

oh. oh. oh. I love it.
It really sounded a lot like Buffy and such a wonderful ending...

Thank you! The first person Buffy was a fun experiment. And I hate to admit the ending owes itself partly to the deadline. ;)

Wonderful! I liked hearing it from Buffy's perspective- you don't see that a lot in B/G fic. I love the ending- yays!

I didn't think I'd seen that around much. It was fun. Thanks for the feedback!

Brilliant! Truly enjoyed!

Thank you! I'm really glad. :)

Beautiful and very intense,
Happy End *phew*

Oh, such a nice, fun Buffy voice! And schmoopy endings are always sweet.

Lovely!!

This is a lovey fic. Happy endings make me smile.
Thank you for such sweetness.

Oh, so sweet. I, too, really like the Buffy narrative voice and how she tried to hard not to get in his way and let him live his life without her.

*sigh*

Thanks for sharing this!

Great Fic!!!
Loved how you voiced buffy!
Thanks for sharing!

This was magnificent! I have a huge grin plastered on my face after reading this.

B/G fic - Where You'd Least Expect It

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