summer_of_giles | Fic: Pocket Full of Posies (FRM) B/G Part I

Title: Pocket Full of Posies, Part I

Author: Will_Conqueror1

Rating: FRM (For the fic as a whole, I think this chapter is really more FRT)

Pairing: Buffy/Giles

Summary: Buffy and Giles are stuck in quarantine. How will they cope?

Timeline: Between seasons 4 and 5.

Author’s Note: A storyline very much inspired by current events. I hope everyone stays safe out there. As always comments are welcomed.

Part II should be posted on free for all day

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Buffy said, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” Giles asked, feeling a bit defensive.

He had been doing his job, there was no way he could’ve foreseen what was happening. All he knew is that people were going into Breaker’s Woods and were never seen again. What he hadn’t anticipated was a rift in the space/time continuum leading them into 14th century Europe.

“Leave it to you to take a girl out on a reconnaissance mission and end up in the renaissance.” She said annoyed.

“Buffy, even if there is a slim chance we caught bubonic plague, it’s fairly easy to treat with modern medicine. However, we should still take precautions and isolate until it’s safe to be around others.”

“But I was supposed to have a date tonight.” She whined. At the start of summer, Riley had gone back home to Iowa. He’d called her a few weeks later letting her know he wasn’t coming back. She’d been sad, but she wanted to get back out there.

“Then you’ll just have to call and cancel. Trust me, any romance will be dead if you start bleeding out your rectum, or if he tries to hold your hand and a gangrenous finger falls off.”

She looked at him with disgust. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yet those are symptoms of the plague, so perhaps taking the situation a little more seriously is called for. It isn’t as if I don’t also have better things to do with my time.”

She pouted and went to sit on the couch. “What about my mom? What am I supposed to tell her?”

“I don’t see any reason you can’t tell her the truth. If she needs to come visit she can, she’ll just have to stand and talk to you through the closed window.” He suggested, moving to sit next to her. “I can ring Xander and Willow, and ask one of them to bring us some supplies. We’ll have to be isolated for seven days.”

“Seven days?!”

Giles ignored her outburst and stood up. “I think I’ll go make us some tea.”

It was nearly seven o’clock when she heard the door open. She and Giles both got up from their spots on the couch and turned to face the door.

“Oh my god you look ridiculous.” Buffy said, laughing for the first time since this whole thing started.

“Xander, I told you to leave the supplies outside the door.” Giles said, slightly annoyed.

“That’s why the mask, G-man.”

“While I do applaud the precaution, it isn’t fool proof, your best defense is not risking exposure to begin with.” He said, staying where he was. “Go ahead and set it on the desk there. We’ll see you in seven days, Xander.”

Xander nodded theatrically. “Stay safe, I have peasants to check in on.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. She waited for the door to close before walking over to the box. She opened it.

She squealed when she saw clean clothes. “Oh my god, Giles, clean clothes.”

“I figured if we’re going to be here for seven days you should have something to wear besides just what you have on, it’ll probably start to smell in a few days.”

“Are you saying I stink?” She asked, trying to figure out if she should be offended.

“No more than anyone else.” He assured her.

Strangely that answer didn’t make her feel any better.

“Uh, it looks like he forgot a few things. Specifically panties, and pajamas.” She said, looking up at him, blushing. She couldn’t walk around Giles’ house going commando, and she also didn’t want to sleep in her jeans.

“Well, for tonight you can borrow a pair of nightclothes from me.” He offered. “We can ring your mum in the morning and ask her to bring you more clothes.”

He walked over to check out the contents of the box as well. It had all the food and emergency supplies he’d asked for, including a thermometer so they could monitor their temperatures. He already had one, but it was ancient and he knew Buffy would be more comfortable with something familiar.

“I guess.” She said with a sigh. “Thanks for having Xander bring some of my stuff over.” She reached in and pulled out Mr. Gordo. “So, where are me and the pig bunking tonight?”

“You can have my bed, I’ll stay on the sofa.” He told her.

“Won’t you be uncomfortable?” She asked. “I mean, I’m the slayer, if it’s uncomfortable I wake up with a stiff neck for thirty minutes, but you’re… you know, old. You won’t be able to walk for three days.”

He glared. “Thank you, that’s just about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He told her sarcastically. “I’m not feeble, I’ll be taking the sofa.”

She rolled her eyes. “Men,” she muttered under her breath.

When it was time to get ready for bed Giles brought her a pair of his pajama bottoms and a large tee shirt for her to change into.

“They’re going to be larger than you’re used to, but they do have a drawstring.” He told her, holding the clothes out for her. “There’s also a spare, unopened toothbrush in the top drawer of the vanity.”

She smiled softly. “Thanks, Giles. I really do appreciate this… though not so much that you dragged me into plague infested Europe.”

“Well, you do always complain that I never take you anywhere new.” He teased, before disappearing into the bathroom with a chuckle.

“That’s not what I meant.” She called after him.

She made her way upstairs and laid out the clothes. He was right about the pants, she was going to be swimming in them, and the shirt would be akin to a tent draped over her body. She’d spent so many years kicking his ass in training she never really noticed how large he actually was until she was wearing his clothes.

They smelled like him too, which didn’t bother her as much as she would’ve expected. In fact it didn’t bother her at all, it made her feel safe. She knew their chances of contracting the plague were low, but she also knew that if Giles was making them stay in isolation then the chance wasn’t zero.

She lifted the collar of the shirt up and inhaled the comforting scent. When she opened her eyes she saw Giles standing at the top of the stairs with a puzzled look on his face. She was completely mortified. Before she could say anything he made his way across the loft and picked a pillow off the bed.

“I just needed a pillow.” He muttered; close up she could see he was blushing as profusely as she was.

She still needed to brush her teeth, but there was no way she was going downstairs and risk seeing him again. Hopefully they would both go to sleep and forget about the whole thing by the time they woke up.

They had been stuck in quarantine for three of the seven days now, and he was going mad. The first night he’d walked in on Buffy smelling one of his tee shirts. He had quickly grabbed a pillow and made his way back downstairs so she wouldn’t see what kind of reaction he’d had. He forced himself to wake up early every morning to deal with his morning “predicament” while she was still asleep. Then there was the touching.

He had never let himself consider Buffy as an attractive woman. Obviously, he wasn’t blind, he knew she was attractive. He knew she was a grown woman. He had never let himself see her as more than a colleague, and friend. Before, touching had always been out of necessity. Now his fingers would brush hers as she passed the salt at dinner, or she would brush against him while going to the fridge to get a bottle of water while he cooked.

If the plague didn’t kill him, this certainly would do him in. He used their friends window visits as an excuse to have some time to himself, whether it be to read or shower, or literally anything where he didn’t need to think about Buffy touching him, or sleeping in his bed.

He knew she didn’t do it on purpose. She was still young, she didn’t realize what she was doing to him. She probably thought him so old that it didn’t even occur to her that he might have a reaction.

He was also rather annoyed that she had been right about the sofa. Every day his back was in more pain, and he did not want to give her the satisfaction of being right.

Rupert Giles spent day 3 with a bottle of scotch.

Buffy woke up first on morning four. She wasn’t surprised, she’d seen how much Giles had drank the night before. She knew he was drunk because he even let her have a glass. She took one sip and poured the rest out after nearly choking.

Sure enough when she came down the stairs Giles was still sound asleep on the couch. She wasn’t sure why he’d felt the need to drink so much the night before, she thought the quarantine was going surprisingly well.

Although she knew he was lying to her about his back. She’d asked him several times if he was sure he didn’t want to switch and he insisted every time that he was fine on the couch. She’d seen eighty year olds move faster than he was the last few days.

She made her way to the kitchen to make them both some tea; she knew he’d need it when he eventually woke up. She didn’t have to wait long, she heard footsteps and turned to see Giles heading down the hallway.

“I’m making tea.” She said, causing him to jump.

He took a deep breath, holding his hand to his heart. He hadn’t expected her to be up before him. He gave her a grateful smile.

“Thank you, Buffy. I’ll be out in a few, I need to use the loo.” He told her, continuing down the hall.

He felt like death. He really shouldn’t have had so much to drink, the last thing he needed was a hangover. He splashed some water on his face before making his way back to the kitchen.

“You look like hell, Giles.”

“Ta very much.” He said gruffly.

“Do you want to talk about why you decided to drink your own body weight in scotch last night?” She asked, pouring them each a cup of tea.

He looked away, but thanked her.

“Is being stuck in here with me so bad?” She asked, her voice sounding very small and insecure.

He’d only ever heard her sound that way a few times in the past. Usually after some form or rejection such as when Angel left, or her father cancelled plans to visit.

“It’s not bad, Buffy.” He assured her, reaching out to squeeze her arm reassuringly. “You’ve been wonderful. It’s… It’s me.”

“Is it your back? I’ve told you I can sleep on the couch…”

“It’s not that. I… It’s not that.” He felt like such a twat.

How was he supposed to tell her that the problem wasn’t her, that it was his attraction to her? The problem was anytime their hands touched he wanted to grab it and their fingers together and never let go, and that he wanted to sleep in his bed, but he wanted her to be in it too, preferably nude. How was he supposed to tell her that the thought of her so close made him hard every morning, and that he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her?

If he told her that, the plague would be the least of his problems. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore since she’d surely make him a eunuch if she ever found out.

He needed another drink. Unfortunately he’d drank the last of his alcohol the night before.

He flinched when he felt her hand on his. He didn’t even listen to what she was saying. He leaned forward, his hand coming up to the back of her neck as he kissed her soundly. Before she even had time to react, he pulled away and made a beeline for the bathroom again. He started the water, hoping a shower would give him time to come up with a plan to make everything better.

She stood frozen in shock.

Giles kissed her.

Giles. Kissed. Her.

In a thousand years that wasn’t a sentence she’d ever thought possible. She had never really given it much thought before. In high school he was her mentor, and last year they had drifted apart. They had reconnected over the summer, but things were still too fresh after Riley.

She heard the shower start and she leaned back against the counter, her hand coming up to her mouth. What was she going to do? This was only day four. There were three more days left in his tiny little apartment. And she only had about twenty minutes until he was done with his shower and she needed to figure out what to say to him.

More importantly, she needed to figure out how she felt about him

Fic: Pocket Full of Posies (FRM) B/G Part I

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