Mine
demeter11
Disclaimer- Clearly this belongs to anyone but me, the anyone happens to be Joss Whedon and Warner Bros and whoever has claim of the rights that is not me.
spolier warnings- takes place after 02.22 episode- Becoming Part 2.
Giles fondly remembers the first time he met the slayer while she has a guilty fantasy about him.
Chapter 1- I Remember You
Giles thought about the first time he had met Buffy. What he remembered the most was the dress she had on. It came below her knee. It was a blue and white plaid with a little apron with a Raggedy Ann image sewn to it.
Her hair was still a chestnut shade of brown then in low pigtails she insisted on doing herself- her eyes ever so light green, the corners always slating downward with a smirk on her pouty lips. She had not become vain enough then to make her eyes look bigger without eyeliner and subtly bucking them. She was a little girl- all of seven years old or as she said it, "I am not seven. I will be eight years in January."
He was barely in his mid-thirties. It was late nineteen eighty-seven.
He wore no glasses then. He was thinner if not more muscular. His now dusty brown hair with wisps of gray- lighter and longer falling into curls in his handsome but then sweet face. It had not been hardened by well, battle. He posed as her second grade teacher going by Edmund "Ed" Fairweather- his middle name and his mother's maiden name respectively.
He spoke with an American accent as warned by Travers, "There is a chance you may become her watcher. She cannot be allowed to recognize you later on. This will forge an automatic distrust."
His real reason, he knew the young man was attractive and would be hard to forget. Nearly every woman he came in contact with wanted a piece of him. He just had it like that.
When he walked into her classroom that day he had the audacity to be nervous. He had never been around a slayer before. And after all, he had been the one who predicted her rising. He only deemed it right he double check his findings himself. After all, he had been born to be a watcher, to watch after her as she been born to slay.
Such a silly name for such a powerful being, he thought. Even now she had just recently became a person to him.
"Zach Posey, William Ramsey, Ben Reggie, Buffy Summers," he said all the while seeing the child in the front row.
She was the only child bold enough to leave her desk and greet him. The rest were more or less either afraid, nervous or ambivalent because as one child put it, "I did not know they made boy teachers."
She offered her hand said, "That is me."
Her grin showcased her missing front teeth. He smiled back and shook her hand but still looked at her sideways.
With their hands still touching, he pulled her close. If it had been anyone else she would have cried stranger danger but she innately trusted him.
He said two words to her, "The Master."
She kicked him in the shin without thinking and said with a frown, "The big meanie."
He smiled wide. He could not have been prouder.
He watched her for a semester. During that time, she became a bit of a teacher's pet.
One time in passing, she referred to him as, "Mine," to his face. She even kissed his cheek.
He reprimanded her for her overt affections.
He made her feel little girl shame but her feelings were not hurt for long. They overrode by her need to help.
Later that day, she observed Giles choking on a dry sandwich. She ran over to him and hit his back with her tiny fist then offered she had an unopened juice box.
"You want my fruit punch?"
He composed himself and replied, "No, little lady, but thank you," he said gaining composure.
"You sure? What I got is yours if you want it," her face urged him to take it strongly. He accepted.
He could have left that day. Buffy was the next Vampire Slayer. Regardless, he stayed because he wanted to be around her but for pretense sake, ran her through all the tests.
One of which was an obstacle course or sorts. He basically batted his eyelashes and convinced the dried up old frog of a principal to allow it. He never let on but he was acutely aware of his looks and the effect that had on people.
Nearly two hundred children attempted to complete whole obstacle course. But, only three did- Buffy of course, her classmate, Ben and his adopted older sister, Odessa, a third grader.
Later on, he asked the kids to draw a weapon of their imagining, she drew the slayer blade all, red and gray and axe-y.
"Why an axe, Buffy?" He asked.
"I dreamed about it. It belongs to me," she hunched rather satisfied.
"Really?" He was intrigued. He had never knew someone so young could be so self- possessed.
"Yep. In my dreams. I see you, too. You watch me," she said matter of factly.
"I do?" He asked with a huge smile. For the first time in his life he really felt like he was on the right path. That he like she were both born to be a part of something larger than themselves.
"Uh-huh. With glasses."
Giles returned to now. It had been three days since his had found the young woman in Los Angeles.
Knelt on his tweed jacket with his striped shirt rolled up to his elbows. He was sweaty and uncomfortably hot on the asphalt rooftop.
"Eighty degrees, my ass," he grunted observing Buffy. This was second nature to him now.
It had been five weeks since she tucked tail and fled in what he surmised had to have been a bus.
Through his binoculars his slayer was bigger than life; she was eight stories below him in pigtails and clad in a dress just barely below her knees and an apron. He chuckled at the coincidence.
Giles could tell by her cautiously slow gait she felt his presence one way or another.
"Come on, young lady, I know you can sense you are being watched," he said not wanting to be seen necessarily but to wanted to be sure still had the will to protect herself.
Buffy stopped in her tracks and looked up. He ducked down quickly and laughed.
"That is my girl," he smiled.
Buffy saw him. He had been on her mind most of the day.
An hour before, Buffy woke up with the overwhelming urge to blow off a little steam. She reckoned she had two choices- go out for a jog or masturbate. With thoughts alternating between Brendan Fraser as George of the Jungle and Pierce Brosnan as well Pierce Brosnan, she chose the latter.
Halfway there and imagining the black haired, blue eyed Irishman practicing the alphabet when suddenly he morphed into the very English,
"Giles?"
She stopped for a minute and felt downright like a pervert. She could see his face clear as day- especially his eyes which looked up at her with wanton anticipation and his mouth which was busy doing something other than reminding her of her responsibility.
Hesitantly, she imagined him gliding up her body and just like that they were face to face. He whispered some veddy, veddy British sweet nothing in ear and brought his lips to hers. She could smell him and taste him. They were kissing now.
He would be warm and his lips soft, she thought.
She knew he had to be good at it and probably a little freaky given his rebellious past. And secretly, she always found him a little a sexy especially she found out about the darkness in him. She would never admit she had a type. Plus, he was easy on eyes for a blatantly older guy. And had an accent and secretly, she always goosebumped a little whenever said her name.
However, she still felt guilt thinking about him like in that way. She retreated back into daydream with the excuse, "This is never going to happen."
Returning to her fantasy, she swore she felt him open her.
I bet he's hung, she pondered with a giggle. He is too sure of himself, she finished.
The shock of going there broke the illusion for a moment. She until she realized her lady become a little more sensitive at the notion. She absolved herself of shame and her hands resumed their work at a quicker pace.
Twenty minutes later, she reached orgasm twice easily.
Once the bliss of release faded, she burst into tears as she realized something. She sorely missed him almost as much as she did Angel. It just hurt.
After all, she knew he accepted who and what she was implicitly if nothing else it gave his existence meaning-unlike her mother and unlike her friends his world actually did revolve around only her even if he did not always understand or like her motives. He cared for her. She was not about to admit it was love.