Giles is my absolute favourite Buffy character, and I absolutely had to write a fic about him, even if I'm not totally sure where I'm going with this and if anyone is going to R&R. Yes, that was a flagrant hint.

This takes place early-ish season 3, before Angel comes back from hell.

Chapter One

"Buffy! You're not concentrating."

"I am, I am."Fairly growling with frustration, the slayer tried to drag her thoughts away from the party that the extraordinarily cute Gilbert Braithwaite had invited her to and back to her fighting technique.

Giles eyed her critically as she bashed the boxing bag with all her strength and none of the technique that he had carefully ingrained into her for years. "Buffy, I can tell you're not focused."

"I am."

"No, you're not. Let's call it a day." Giles yielded to the inevitable with some reluctance. "But you'll make it up tomorrow night. Seven-thirty. Library." He started to leave, but was stopped by an anxious hand on his elbow.

"Seven-thirty! I can't. Gilbert Braithwaite's party!"

Giles stared at her. Buffy groaned theatrically in a way that most girls reserved for their fathers, and that Buffy reserved for him. "You know! Gilbert Braithwaite!"

"Buffy, repeating the fellow's name, only louder, is not going to help me understand. Who is Gilbert Braithwaite and what are you talking about?"

"He's only the cutest guy in the year. He's new, just moved here from New York or something, and he's throwing this party at his place and inviting everyone. He's got this mega-big house, and I mean mega-big, like, huge, and Willow's going with Oz, and Xander's going with Cordelia, and I'm supposed to be going too." Her voice trailed off. Buffy knew full well who she'd like to go with. But Angel was dead—she'd killed him to stop the hell portal from opening—there would be no Gilbert Braithwaite parties for the two of them.

"Well, you're not going. You've missed enough training as it is and tomorrow's your only free evening this week. Library, seven-thirty." Giles continued on his way out of the library. Buffy ran after him, her hand seemingly glued to his arm as she tugged his sleeve in a way that did not befit her seventeen years.

"But Giles!" Giles didn't have to look at her to know that she had a pout playing about her lips and was widening her eyes in that signature Buffy way of hers. What had Jenny called that look once? Oh yes, puppy dog eyes. She'd been referring to him, but he thought that the term could be applied to Buffy too.

"But me no buts, Buffy."

Buffy looked blank. Giles sighed.

"Never mind." He locked the library doors and started down the corridor. "Buffy, seriously now, you haven't trained properly in far too long. Your technique's getting sloppy."

"No its not!"

"If your performance today was anything to go by I might've thought you'd had no training at all," Giles said cuttingly. "Seven-thirty."

"Giles!"

They were already exiting Sunnydale High, and crossing the carpark to Giles's car. "Will you stop screaming my name in my ear?"

Buffy sighed. "Fine. Seven-thirty, library. Yay." And she turned and stalked off.

Giles started the engine and drove home. He sometimes forgot that although Buffy was the slayer, she was still a teenage girl who wanted to have fun. And after that affair with Angel, goodness knew she needed it. Had he done wrong to prohibit her from going to that chap's—what was his name? Gordon Botie? Georg Barry?—party?

It was more important for Buffy to be well-trained than for her to attend a party, or so Giles reasoned as he parked his car and jiggle the key around in the lock, opening the door.

After all, he could withstand Buffy's petulance. Goodness knew he had experience.

-break-

"BUFFY!"

"GILES!"

The two glared at each other for a moment. Giles backed down because Buffy was the one with her fists doubled up and, although he knew she'd never deliberately hurt him, he still didn't want to be on the bad side of a slayer's fists.

"Buffy, your form is off," he said pointedly, moving over and physically pulling her fists into the correct position. "Even the least experienced fighter has that simple defense position firmly ingrained in their muscle memory and you get it wrong? That's not like you."

"I'm trying, Giles!"

A flagrant lie if he'd ever heard one. "No, you're not! I know what you're capable of, Buffy, and this isn't it. Now come on, one more time."

"You said, 'one more time' about three hours ago, Giles!" Buffy flared up. "I can't help it if my form isn't absolutely perfect, alright?"

"You bloody well can, Buffy. Your mind's still on that Gibby Bradson's party, isn't it?" Giles quipped back, allowing his temper to get the better of him for once and letting that 'bloody' slip out unintentionally.

"Gilbert Braithwaite, Giles!"

"Buffy, I don't care. Get your head out of those Gilbert-induced clouds and back on Earth, because Earth is where the vampires are, Buffy, and you are the vampire slayer."

"Oh, you think I don't know that?"

"I think perhaps you've forgotten, because that's the only explanation I can think of for your sloppiness lately!"

"Giles, that's just harsh."

"It's the reality!"

They glared at each other some more, and then Buffy grabbed her bag.

"What're you doing?" Giles demanded.

"I'm going home," Buffy said, and stalked out the door.

Giles was outraged. "No, you can't!"

"Yes I can!"

For some bizarre reason Bob the Builder's 'Can we fix it? Yes we can!' suddenly rang out in Giles's mind.

"I'm your watcher!"

"And I'm your slayer, so watch this!" and Buffy promptly flounced out the door.

Giles fought down the rising anger inside him. It really wasn't like her to act out like this. Perhaps this was the aftermath of the Angel affair. After all, she'd become sullen and irritable after she killed the Master in her sophomore year, maybe this was the same. He'd have to give her some time.

He went home and went straight to bed. It had been a very long day. And he was starting to feel a bit guilty. Buffy really had a most ridiculous effect on him. Even when he knew that he had a legitimate grievance she still somehow managed to make him believe that he was in the wrong.

All Giles knew was that he didn't like when they were butting heads. They were Slayer and Watcher and they had a great relationship built on patient work and mutual trust, and he didn't want to see it torn apart by anything.

Tomorrow, he decided as he pulled the covers over himself, tomorrow he would make it right.