HERE TO WATCH GIRLS, CHAPTER SEVEN: ONE HELL OF A WOMAN (7 OF 15?, TOTAL. POST 3 OF 5 FOR TODAY)

[protoneoromanic.livejournal.com]

Title: Here to Watch Girls
Author: ProtoNeoRomantic
Betas: Gilescandy & porkwithbones
Rating: NC-17 (work as a whole) Rated on the side of caution.
Paring: Giles/Willow, Giles/Buffy, Giles/Cordelia, Giles/other female characters
Word Count: 1626  (this chapter)

Chapter Seven: One Hell of a Woman

Giles stood behind the book counter: quiet, tense. Waiting for Buffy to get herself together and come out. There was... not a *great* deal of noise coming from the office. But there were enough crashing and banging sounds included to make any reasonable person nervous. Well, perhaps a bit of slamming about as she got dressed would help Buffy release some of her aggression. Hopefully, without doing too much damage.

Giles kept trying to think of anything he could say to make her see this situation for what it was. Or at least help her to stop seeing it for what it wasn't. The problem being that, for her, maybe it really was that. She had been compelled against her natural inclinations to have sex she now didn't want to have had with a man she didn't know, didn't trust, and (when in her proper wits) didn't fancy. What other name than 'rape' could a young woman be expected to apply to such an experience?

At this point, the idea that they could ever have a healthy, long-term working relationship as Watcher and Slayer was an impossible fantasy. The best Giles could hope for at this point was her sub-lethal enmity and temporary, grudging cooperation in saving the world. Even at that, he was unsure of his chances. So, guess it's back to plan A? Get your little girlfriend to rope her in? Shut up.

Finally, after more than fifteen minutes in the office on her own, Buffy walked out in her sweats carrying a large cardboard box full of mostly old and mostly important books and papers, which she threw to Giles so suddenly that it knocked the wind out of him as he caught it. The sharp, sudden discomfort was accentuated by the embarrassment of his almost immediate realization that he could have just let it land on the counter, as she might well have intended.

But Giles wasn't to be distracted by anything so trivial just now. “Buffy,” he tried appealing to her one more time, “you must believe me, I never intended any of this—”

“Oh, I believe you,” Buffy assured him in an even, almost friendly tone in which he could detect no trace of sarcasm. “It's not you; it's the hotel. You're just the caretaker.”

“What?” Giles knew he was missing something, but he honestly didn't know what it was. Buffy didn't seem as if she'd gone mad, just the opposite.

The Slayer rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh as she started shoving an amazingly large wheeled book case towards the swinging doors to the main hallway. “Uh... It's a literary reference(?)” she replied with exaggerated sarcasm. “Geez, who's the librarian here, you or me?”

“Ah, erm, yes,” Giles murmured, comprehension striking him a bit uncomfortably, just as he became puzzled about something else. “B-Buffy? What are you doing with that?”

“I'm moving all the books on this level out into the hallway,” she explained, her tone once again calm and cheerful. “I noticed this seems to be the Watcheriest stuff down here, but if there is anything really important up in the stacks, now would be the time to grab it, 'cause as soon as the fire alarm starts going off, everything in here's gonna get soaked. And don't forget your box, there. I saved your Watcher Diaries and anything else that looked oldish or rarish.”

For a moment, Giles couldn't find his tongue. Flabbergasted, he looked from the girl to the box and back again. “Wait, Wh—what? Fire alarm?” he stammered. “Why would—?”

“Oh, because I just set your office on fire. I'd say this place should be closed for repairs at least the next three or four weeks. So, problem temporarily solved.” I said goddamn! Bitch is hardcore. Oh, I hope you knocked this one up! Pervert. Why, thank you!

“Oh, I wouldn't go in there,” she added, sounding friendly and helpful as ever as he took three or four quick steps in the direction of his office door. “That *might* knock the aerosol cans and the open bottle of super-expensive looking booze sitting on top of the door into the burning pile of old papers and broken furniture. Then I won't be responsible for what happens.”

Giles stood there, blinking in slack-jawed amazement. Seriously, I think I'm in love. “You wanna lend a hand here, Jeeves?” Buffy said after a moment. “These bookcases aren't going to move themselves, and time is of the serious essence here.”

“Bu—Buffy, n—now let's, let's think about this a moment...” Giles groped tentatively in the direction of an appeal to reason, having found his tongue at last, but not his wits.

“I thought,” Buffy said, her almost matter-of-fact tone having something just a bit abrupt, just a bit harsh in it. “I acted. Now I'm moving books. Hop on the train, Jeeves, or get off the tracks.”

“You can stop calling me that any time,” Giles grumbled, picking a bookcase at random and shoving it towards the door.

“And you can stop violating me with your penis,” Buffy rejoined, in a chipper tone that wouldn't have seemed in the least ironic, if not for the words she was speaking.

“The door *was* locked,” Giles couldn't help pointing out. Very, very much under his breath. Oh, what? You're ignoring me now. She gets all your snide little aside comments now? After all the snatch we've been through together? She's set the library on fire, you fool. Why aren't you bothered by this? Eh, I'll just turn up your lust a little and breed you in bars more. Granted, you aren't literally irresistible out there in the wide world, but you're not without charm or beauty, both of which I've seen you use already when you wanted it enough.

Giles's pulse quickened. He wasn't having any of that. The incubus hated most of the women he got on his own merit. Mainly because so many of them *were* women, not girls. There could only be one reason why it was amused rather than dismayed by the impending conflagration. It knew something! It didn't expect to need the library much longer. Which meant it expected the Hellmouth to be opened within a day or two. It would have been too bothered by any longer delay in its lecherous activities. Finally, the vile fiend had given him some useful information. Ummm.... You know, I can hear you thinking about me, right? No, Giles replied dryly, I'd forgotten. Ha! Ha! Vile Fiend. She's getting away, you know.

The incubus was right. In the time it had taken Giles to move one bookcase into the hallway, Buffy had finished with the others and was striding purposefully down the hall, which at least was mostly empty now, lunch being long over. “Buffy!” he called as he ran after her, adding in a much lower but equally urgent voice as he caught up, “You, you have to listen.”

“No,” she corrected him, lengthening her stride so that he nearly had to jog to keep up despite his much longer legs, “I have to repress. And I have to get to English class to establish my alibi.”

“You don't understand,” he insisted, almost grabbing her arm, but thinking better of it. “The demon has just unwittingly revealed to me something very important.”

That at least got her to stop and face him, foot tapping impatiently, fingers drumming on her hips. “It talks to you(?)” she said, in a voice like eyes rolling. “The evil thing that lives in your crotch talks to you?”

“Well... n-not out loud,” Giles admitted sheepishly, getting frustrated, annoyed. “But, but the Hellmouth is go—”

“Is your problem, Jeeves,” Buffy cut him off harshly. “Like I've been trying to tell you. I don't do Hellmouths, incubi, talking jockey shorts, none of it. Because, first off, I'm a VAMPIRE Slayer; and secondly, I'm retired.”

“But it's going to open at, at any moment, may-maybe today, maybe tomorrow, but, but—”

“Soon? Yeah, Bogey, I heard you the first time!” At that moment, the fire alarms sounded throughout the building. However, the system was sophisticated enough that only the sprinklers in the library itself—where the smoke was—were triggered. Buffy's look of deep annoyance became one of utter exasperation. She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. “And there goes my alibi(!) Thanks a lot, Jeeves.”

At that moment, students began pouring into the hallway, headed for the exits and thence the tennis courts, per the school's evacuation plan. Few of them were calm and orderly. Many were elated, some panicked as a voice over the intercom confirmed that this was not a drill. “Ms. Summers,” Giles tried to start again from the beginning, striving for a calm, even tone, lowering his voice, daring to lean closer to her, more than he dared to risk being overheard by the sudden crowd, “I don't know how much Mr. Merrick will have gotten the chance to tell you about a Slayer's other duties besides, well, Slaying vampires, but—”

“Shshshshsh,” she said quietly, softly, putting a finger to his lips, her eyes softening and somehow seeming to grow larger. Rupert's heart pounded. Their faces were inches apart. He was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of desire for her that made the coming apocalypse seem distant and small, unimportant. “You're missing the most important thing here,” she whispered, almost purred, in fact.

“Yes?” he said, reaching a trembling hand towards her cheek despite their very public location.

“Your box is getting wet,” she whispered huskily. In the moment it took his brain to reset, Buffy melted into the churning throng.