summer_of_giles | Fic: CLAIM

Back to Part 6

Rupert finished his bath quickly. He stepped out of the tub and toweled off, grateful for the warmth of the fire. He opened the armoire and did not see any of his clothes. Instead, he found a neatly folded black silk shirt and a matching pair of trousers. It was the only clothing in the armoire. Holding the shirt and trousers up to himself, he saw that they were clearly his size. It was obvious Buffy meant for him to put them on. What it meant, on the other hand, he could only guess. It was a gift given between lovers, and he was fairly certain Buffy did not see him that way. Was it a casual seduction to celebrate their recent victory? He really couldn’t imagine himself as the object of Buffy’s intentions in that regard either. And what of her earlier attentions to him in the bath?

In the face of unanswered questions, the Watcher decided to do what he always did – research. He put on the black silk clothing and knocked on the connecting door.

“Buffy?” Rupert called out softly. “May I come in?” He took a step back as the door swung fully open, revealing his Slayer standing before him, clad only in a sheer, cream-colored shift, her long blond hair loose and free about her shoulders, candles alight in various locations around the room behind her.

“I . . . I . . . I was going tell you how lovely this is,” Rupert stuttered, sliding his hand appreciatively down the front of the soft black shirt she had left for him. “But it seems I need to include all this as well,” he finished, glancing expressively around the room, then back to his Slayer. “Should I ask,” he ventured, his eyes returning to hers, “or will you tell me when you are ready?”

“Do you know what day this is?” Buffy said softly.

“Of course,” Rupert replied without hesitation. “Two years ago today, I traveled to the Henge in hopes of meeting the Slayer and offering her my service as her Watcher.”

“You remembered.”

“How could I possibly forget such an important day in my life?”

“Yeah, well, I did get you all beat up and almost killed by a bunch of vampires. That is kinda memorable.”

“You know that's not what I meant. Besides, you did intervene, you saved my life, and kept me warm and protected through the night. So I rather have to forgive you.”

“You always look on the bright side.”

“It is pointless to do otherwise.”

"I think I may finally be starting to believe that."

"You already do believe, or you wouldn't have me still tagging along with you after all this time.”

Buffy nodded, solemnly. “About that . . . Two years ago tonight, there was this crazy Watcher who let me chain him to a big rock in open country at nightfall. Then instead of begging me for his life or freeing himself with his sword like he probably could have, he stayed there and tried to fight off a bunch of vampires, trying to impress me. Well, he did impress me - so much that I couldn't leave him to be slaughtered, and I couldn't let him go, not without learning more about him."

“For the record, I didn't 'let' you chain me, you bested me soundly. As to the rest . . .,” Rupert cocked his head and his features knitted into a look of puzzlement and wonder, “. . . have you learned what you wished?”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “It took a while, and there's still things I'm learning, but I think I've got a good working knowledge now. It's a good mix of first-hand experience and research.”

“Research?” The puzzlement had now spread to Rupert’s voice.

“I had to find some good, reliable, sources first – just like a certain scholar taught me. After the Cutejerky business . . .”

“Buffy, please, Qujarka.”

“You do know that I do that just to yank your chain sometimes, right?”

Rupert sighed deeply. “I suppose, but you know full well I can’t let such things go, so, for me, please . . .”

“When you were recovering after getting yourself whip-cut and poisoned by the Qu-jar-ka, I had some time to chat with Mother Minerva at the Coven.”

“Oh?” Rupert replied, trying to suppress the hint of nervousness in his voice.

“Yes, she offered to show me some books from the Council, along with some of the Coven's records. She helped me get through the reading, since you're still teaching me and, you know, big words and all. But I was able to read a fair bit myself – you'd have been proud of me.”

"I'm most certain I would.” Rupert agreed, then proceeded tentatively, ”May I . . . sh- should I ask what topic you were researching?"

"You can.” Buffy took a deep breath. “It was about Watchers, and Slayers, and Watchers and Slayers together. Minerva said there were things I should know that you might not have told me about – or told me about yet – because of the whole mixed-up late Calling thing and such, and how busy we’ve been. Important things.”

“That’s . . . yes, that’s true,” Rupert admitted. “And it’s generally the Watcher’s purview to make those decisions.”

“Except when the Watcher’s afraid the Slayer won’t listen to him or won’t want to hear what he has to say when she actually does. I’m ready to hear more things than you may think I am, Rupert.”

“I’ll grant you may well be. What is it you want to know? I promise I’ll do my best to answer honestly and completely.”

“Actually, I want to tell you what I learned first – that way you won’t have to repeat what I already know. Would that be okay with you?”

Rupert nodded and gestured for his Slayer to continue.

“I learned quite a bit – some of it history stuff. Found out what those chains on the Monument were all about. Didn't like that part much. Especially when I realized what it must have meant for you when I chained you there when we first met, 'cause you would have known all that stuff already."

Rupert shook his head. "I had no reason to believe you knew anything about that at the time, Buffy. So, it was never an issue for me. It's very much past history.”

"I also learned a lot of things which aren’t just past history,” Buffy continued. “There's rituals - seriously powerful magic. Things meant to help a Slayer and her Watcher and bring them closer together, give them additional abilities to work together, and take care of each other."

Rupert found himself drawing in a deep breath, and the room suddenly felt close and hot and untenable. He was suddenly, acutely, aware of what she might say next, and it froze him like a startled deer, his eyes fixed with hers.

“I want those things with you,” Buffy affirmed.

“Th – Things?” Rupert asked. His voice wasn't a squeak, although it felt that way to him. He felt his heart racing in his chest, wondering if she was going to say what he thought she might – what he both prayed and dreaded she might.

“I want to invoke my Right of Claim on you - the Slayer on her Watcher.” Buffy was proud she’d kept her voice calm and steady.

Rupert continued to stare at her, unable to find words.

Buffy took his silence as concern, and she hurried to reassure him. “But not like they did in the past sometimes where the Watcher didn't get a choice and the Slayer could force it on him against his will. I . . . I would only do it if you wanted it too."

Rupert swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry, his emotions warring between elation and fear. He let out the breath he’d been holding, and drew in another. “There is nothing more a Watcher could hope for, then to be Claimed by his Slayer,” he replied formally.

Buffy frowned slightly. “Yeah – a Watcher – but I want to know about my Watcher – about Rupert Giles. Does he want it?”

Rupert dropped his chin to regard her more directly. “There is nothing more that I could want than to be claimed by you, Buffy Summers.” Rupert poured all the love, care and affection he felt for his Slayer into his words, but the fear was there as well and she could sense it.

“But . . .”

“But?”

“You’re not sure. I can hear it in your voice and see it in your eyes.”

Rupert cleared his throat uncomfortably, caught by the very techniques of truth-seeking he’d taught to his Slayer. “Buffy, I confess you have me at somewhat of a disadvantage. Clearly, you've been researching and preparing for this moment, while I, on the other hand, I've been taken completely unawares.”

“Completely?” Buffy replied unhappily. “Wow, I really have been doing a lousy job of taking care of you."

"What? No!” her Watcher protested. “That's not what I meant at all! You . . . you said you've researched, well then you know what this ritual, uh, . . . entails. And . . . well then, you would know that's not . . . um . . . something I would have expected you would . . . would want from me - at least - not beyond the context of the ritual."

"Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?"

Rupert huffed. "Well, I could ask you the same, now, couldn't I? Buffy - I'm easily old enough to be . . ."

"My father, yeah you could - but you’re not. As to mirrors, I’d have to say that lately, when I look in a mirror, I don't just see myself anymore. I see someone beside me who I care about very much – someone handsome and strong and brave and smart that cares about me too."

Rupert stared at her a moment. "Should I say it now, or do we let the apocalypse come?”

“What? Oh. Don't try to wriggle off the subject with the grammar lesson, Mr. Scholar, about whom I care so much, even when he's annoying the hell out of me. We're not talking age, here, Rupert, we're talking life span. According to the records, most Slayers died long before their Watchers. So the age argument fails a simple test of logic."

"I've created a monster,” Rupert muttered sourly.

Buffy smiled broadly in her brief triumph. "Education is a powerful weapon - some smart old guy taught me that."

Rupert regarded her steadily. "I should point out you've disregarded a critical variable in your analysis,” he returned softly. “Anything that kills you would have already had to have gone through me."

Buffy paused a moment, absorbing what Rupert had just said. "So again - age argument invalid. We go down together, solves the 'who dies first' and 'Watcher's older than Slayer' problems. So – any more issues you'd like to share?”

Rupert glanced at her, then took a step backward and sank down on the bench at the foot of the bed, leaning his head in his hand, his elbow resting on his knee. Buffy sat beside him and reached to take his right hand in hers, resting them on Rupert's right leg.

"I . . . I'm sorry - I'm not trying to make a joke or a challenge out of this - I know it's a big deal - especially in what's required from you."

“No,” Rupert shook his head. “No – don't apologize – there is nothing to apologize for. It is me who should apologize. I should have been able to sense your feelings, seen this coming, counseled you upon it.”

“Actually, the books indicate that the Slayer frequently sprung this on her Watcher whenever she decided she was ready.”

“True . . . but that was after years of training and preparation, first as a Potential, then as the Slayer. You've had very little to none of that, courtesy of the dire times in which we live and the apparent influence of powerful practitioners of Dark Magic. You've had to learn everything so very fast . . .”

“So . . .,” Buffy interrupted. “How've I done?”

“Magnificently," Rupert acknowledged, raising his head and meeting her eyes, his pride in her evident in his voice and his gaze.

“And so . . .”

“You're saying you have the ability to understand this quickly as well.”

“Well, I have had a really good teacher.”

Rupert ran his hand nervously through his hair and took a deep breath. "In many ways, Buffy, we've already shared more adventures together than many people share in a lifetime. We've lived in each other’s pockets for two years. We've looked Death in the face together more times than I can count and we've bound each other’s wounds. It's natural that we would develop feelings for each other. The connection that gives us, the strength it lends to our relationship goes without question.”

“But . . . there’s something that also does go with question?”

“You and I have never talked about The Claim before now. I do not know what you have learned, and neither do you have an understanding of what I know of it. I think we need to share that before proceeding. The Claim is permanent – and it would be best if there were no . . . misunderstandings.”

“Okay – who goes first?”

“As the Slayer, it is your choice.”

“Okay – I choose Knowledge Guy.”

“Very well. Uh . . . the basics first, then. The Ritual of Claim permanently binds the Watcher to the Slayer. The Watcher must submit to be bound by the Slayer - physically - and she must,” Rupert paused to clear his throat. “She must take his body while he is bound. There is a great power in the taking of the Watcher by the Slayer – in his sacrifice of his freedom and his body to her service. It grounds her and stabilizes her against all the violence to which she is exposed, and extends a measure of her defensive and healing powers to him."

“Yeah. Bondage and sex, and uh, sex while in bondage. You bound, me binding. Not originally how I envisioned our first time, but the Council papers that Minerva gave me say there's serious power in it – like you said - and that it will give us abilities to understand each other and communicate with each other that we wouldn’t have otherwise. It’s considered a mystical gift to a successful Slayer and Watcher team. Also – the healing and protection bits for you – I’m definitely interested in those.”

"Our first . . . You . . . you've imagined this - us - together? Before?"

"Of course.” Buffy returned matter-of-factly. “Haven't you?"

Rupert turned a most astonishing shade of beet red, from the tips of his ears right down to where his chest hair peeked out at the first unopened button of his shirt.

“O-kay,” Buffy continued. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way. I think we can safely say we both understand what the ritual is about. What’s next on the list?”

Rupert turned slightly toward his Slayer and took her hands in his. “Buffy, you need to understand - I am content to be your Watcher and teacher and guide. I can continue in that capacity indefinitely, with or without the Ritual of Claim. I am grateful that you understand that the Watcher can be forced to submit, and that you have already decided that is not how you wish to proceed with me. But there are certain things I need to know you understand before I can honestly agree. If you truly wish to give me freedom to make the choice, then you need to understand that.”

“Okay. Tell me the things, then.”

“What concerns me most is whether or not you've had sufficient opportunity to know if the feelings you have for me extend beyond those of friendship - of comrades in arms, if you will.”

“Ah – I know this one,” Buffy began, raising a finger into the air. “This is the, ‘have I dated other boys before settling on you’ question.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Rupert, I know you were basically raised in a monastery, but I can assure you, all of us girls on the outside get this lecture at one time or another.”

“They . . . do?”

“Yeah. I can answer this one. You want to know if I’m suddenly going to run off with someone else – like one of the guys from the Tisbury Fabulous Five. I’ve been there and done that – did it before I met you, in fact. I know all I ever need to know about guys my own age. None of them ever wanted me for who I was – the Slayer. Most of them were afraid of me, and the rest either wanted to control me or change me.”

“A sad loss for them indeed,” Rupert growled.

“Despite everything, you didn't try to change me." Buffy paused as Rupert's eyes shifted slowly to meet hers. "Well, I mean, not fundamentally – you worked with me – and you treated me with respect for who I was. You've stood by me for two years through all kinds of horror. In fact, you've stood between me and all kinds of horror, and paid for it - pain and blood paid. I've learned that's not because you're a Watcher, because not all Watchers do that. It's because you're Rupert Giles. I've had enough time to think, and I haven't had a reason to doubt what I felt when I first met you, or what I feel now.”

“Can you tell me?” Rupert asked softly. "If you can?"

“My feelings?" Buffy sighed. "I feel . . . I feel like you're a part of me that was missing for years. Like that now that you're in my life, everything seems okay, even though what we do together is a lot more dangerous than what I did on my own. When I’m with you, everything seems to be in place. I love what we do together, from kicking demon ass to watching the stars together at night. I'm amazed that even when you’re completely wiped out, you give everything for me and you somehow keep going. I love how you take care of me, even though I can pretty much take care of myself. I like taking care of you, too – when you need it - and even when you don’t. You're strong and courageous and smart. You can be ferocious when you need to, but you're also very gentle. You take all my sarcasm and snark you're pretty good at handing it right back." Buffy took a breath and reached for Rupert's hand again, stroking her thumb along the back. "I . . . I love your scent in your jacket when you put it around me on a cold night, even though I probably need it less than you." She raised her eyes from his hand to meet his own directly. "Bottom line, Rupert – I love you. If this ritual improves our odds, then I want it, because I want you.”

“God, Buffy,” Rupert whispered, reaching out and pulling her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, and laying his cheek atop her head, fighting the threat of tears. “You are . . . you are just so much more than I could ever have hoped for.”

They hugged tightly together for a few moments, then Buffy ducked her head out from under her Watcher’s chin, sliding her hands back rest lightly on his forearms.

“So, Watcher,” Buffy asked, blinking back moisture in her own eyes. “What else?”

Rupert shook his head. “Nothing else. Not for me,” Rupert returned. “If it’s me you want, truly, in your heart, then say the Words of Claim. Test me as you did two years ago tonight. Let me show the true depth of my commitment to you.”

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

On to Part 8

Fic: CLAIM - Part 7 of 9

no subject

no subject