Pairing: very mild Giles/Xander.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters and bloody hell but I wish I did. Think I can buy 'em for fifty bucks?
Author's Note: I got bored! And that's the fact of the matter! So I wrote this one and there's nothing really else to say about it except that I enjoyed writing it. Try reading it after a few stiff shots of whiskey; it might sound funnier.
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"If Moses supposes his toeses are roses," Xander chanted, stacking books haphazardly.
Giles blinked in confusion and then gave him a patented Stuffy Librarian's Stare. "If what?" he demanded.
"Then Moses supposes erroneously," Xander continued teasingly.
Giles shook his head. No, the puzzling perplexity was still persistent.
"For Moses, he knowses his toeses aren't roses-"
"Xander-"
Xander pressed on. "As Moses supposes his toeses to be."
Finally there was silence in the library. One of Xander's suspiciously frequent free-periods was only halfway through and the books were only halfway to completely stacked and Giles was getting a headache.
"Xander, I've thought about what you've said," the Englishman said slowly, "And it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."
"Moses supposes-" Xander began again patiently.
"No, no, stop," Giles begged in alarm, actually covering his ears. When Xander stopped and looked at him with mock innocence he uncovered his ears cautiously. "Thank you."
"No problem," Xander said obligingly.
"What in half of the world was that?"
"A whatcha-call-it," Xander answered. It didn't particularly narrow anything down so he explained it. "You know, one of those rhymes to help you speak better."
The mystery cleared up. "I see!"
"Yup," Xander grinned maddeningly, "Did you use 'em back when you were in school?"
"Certainly not," Giles sniffed, "I speak naturally well."
The unimpressed American teenager shrugged and stopped stacking so as to keep the conversation going. "That one was in that Gene Kelly movie- 'Singing in the Rain'," he supplied helpfully, "About the time that he and Cosmo decided to start tap-dancing on the furniture."
"I've seen it," Giles muttered, "It's one of your American favorites."
One look told Xander that his listener was focusing more on that list in his hand than on Xander's sparkling wit. Only one explanation presented itself- "You hated it, didn't you, G-Man?" And he could afford to sound patronizing; it was, after all, a classic.
Giles finished whatever it was he was thinking of and put the list down on the nearest table. He looked up, caught Xander's waiting eye and registered the question. "Hmmm? Oh! Oh, actually, I did enjoy it, Xander. It was quite amusing."
"And with that, you make it sound like one of those freaky European comedies that win at the Cannes Film Festivals and then no one gets more than two words of it," Xander rebuked, "Really, Giles!"
Giles sighed long-sufferingly and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Xander."
The room went silent again.
"She sells sea shells," Xander began.
Giles actually tossed a book onto the nearest tableto stare at him in exasperation. "Will you stop it, you infuriating boy?"
"I'm improving my dictation," Xander protested.
"*Diction*!" Giles growled, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Whatever! The point is you complain about how horrible the American accent is and say we mutilate the English tongue or what have you and I'm only trying to help myself learn to speak better," Xander argued.
Giles stepped closer with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"Loosen my tongue, so to speak," Xander carried on obliviously.
Giles stepped right up against him and took off his glasses with one hand. "There are ways, and there are ways," he said cryptically.
"Huh?" Xander commented in confusion, stopped mid-babble.
"Of loosening your tongue," Giles reminded him. Then he kissed him.
Xander stood stock-still at first, unable to believe this. There were unstacked books at his feet, there were classes full of bored students and even more bored teachers all around the library and for some reason Buffy's stiff-necked and extremely British Watcher had his mouth on Xander's lips. Then a tongue was demanding entrance and Xander opened said lips to protest this turn of events and the tongue slid through and -oh!
When the kiss broke, Xander licked his lips and blinked himself back to reality while Giles calmly put his glasses back on and moved back to his work.
"How's your tongue?" the librarian asked sweetly.
"How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood," Xander murmured in a fluent whisper, word perfect and crystal clear.
"There! I believe we have improved your diction," Giles congratulated smugly, hiding a very Ripper-like glimmer of mischief beneath a bland smile, "Now why don't you try that one about Moses again."
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters and bloody hell but I wish I did. Think I can buy 'em for fifty bucks?
Author's Note: I got bored! And that's the fact of the matter! So I wrote this one and there's nothing really else to say about it except that I enjoyed writing it. Try reading it after a few stiff shots of whiskey; it might sound funnier.
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"If Moses supposes his toeses are roses," Xander chanted, stacking books haphazardly.
Giles blinked in confusion and then gave him a patented Stuffy Librarian's Stare. "If what?" he demanded.
"Then Moses supposes erroneously," Xander continued teasingly.
Giles shook his head. No, the puzzling perplexity was still persistent.
"For Moses, he knowses his toeses aren't roses-"
"Xander-"
Xander pressed on. "As Moses supposes his toeses to be."
Finally there was silence in the library. One of Xander's suspiciously frequent free-periods was only halfway through and the books were only halfway to completely stacked and Giles was getting a headache.
"Xander, I've thought about what you've said," the Englishman said slowly, "And it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever."
"Moses supposes-" Xander began again patiently.
"No, no, stop," Giles begged in alarm, actually covering his ears. When Xander stopped and looked at him with mock innocence he uncovered his ears cautiously. "Thank you."
"No problem," Xander said obligingly.
"What in half of the world was that?"
"A whatcha-call-it," Xander answered. It didn't particularly narrow anything down so he explained it. "You know, one of those rhymes to help you speak better."
The mystery cleared up. "I see!"
"Yup," Xander grinned maddeningly, "Did you use 'em back when you were in school?"
"Certainly not," Giles sniffed, "I speak naturally well."
The unimpressed American teenager shrugged and stopped stacking so as to keep the conversation going. "That one was in that Gene Kelly movie- 'Singing in the Rain'," he supplied helpfully, "About the time that he and Cosmo decided to start tap-dancing on the furniture."
"I've seen it," Giles muttered, "It's one of your American favorites."
One look told Xander that his listener was focusing more on that list in his hand than on Xander's sparkling wit. Only one explanation presented itself- "You hated it, didn't you, G-Man?" And he could afford to sound patronizing; it was, after all, a classic.
Giles finished whatever it was he was thinking of and put the list down on the nearest table. He looked up, caught Xander's waiting eye and registered the question. "Hmmm? Oh! Oh, actually, I did enjoy it, Xander. It was quite amusing."
"And with that, you make it sound like one of those freaky European comedies that win at the Cannes Film Festivals and then no one gets more than two words of it," Xander rebuked, "Really, Giles!"
Giles sighed long-sufferingly and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Xander."
The room went silent again.
"She sells sea shells," Xander began.
Giles actually tossed a book onto the nearest tableto stare at him in exasperation. "Will you stop it, you infuriating boy?"
"I'm improving my dictation," Xander protested.
"*Diction*!" Giles growled, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Whatever! The point is you complain about how horrible the American accent is and say we mutilate the English tongue or what have you and I'm only trying to help myself learn to speak better," Xander argued.
Giles stepped closer with a dangerous look in his eyes.
"Loosen my tongue, so to speak," Xander carried on obliviously.
Giles stepped right up against him and took off his glasses with one hand. "There are ways, and there are ways," he said cryptically.
"Huh?" Xander commented in confusion, stopped mid-babble.
"Of loosening your tongue," Giles reminded him. Then he kissed him.
Xander stood stock-still at first, unable to believe this. There were unstacked books at his feet, there were classes full of bored students and even more bored teachers all around the library and for some reason Buffy's stiff-necked and extremely British Watcher had his mouth on Xander's lips. Then a tongue was demanding entrance and Xander opened said lips to protest this turn of events and the tongue slid through and -oh!
When the kiss broke, Xander licked his lips and blinked himself back to reality while Giles calmly put his glasses back on and moved back to his work.
"How's your tongue?" the librarian asked sweetly.
"How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood," Xander murmured in a fluent whisper, word perfect and crystal clear.
"There! I believe we have improved your diction," Giles congratulated smugly, hiding a very Ripper-like glimmer of mischief beneath a bland smile, "Now why don't you try that one about Moses again."