Chapter 2
The morning sun streaming in slowly graced Buffy's face. Her body was beginning to stiffen and she winced as she blinked. A piercing explosion of pain rippled up from her spine to shoot out of the front of her head at the merest movement, so she quickly refrained from sitting up further and closed her eyes again for a moment. She took a slow, deep and calming breath and then focused her eyes on the man slumped in the chair across from the sofa on the other side of the coffee table. His head was lolled back against the back of the leather chair and his glasses were resting beside him on the table. He looked haggard and worn out and it was obvious he hadn't shaved in a couple of days.
He must have felt her examination because his eyes opened and he lifted his head to look at her. "Buffy? How are you feeling?"
Buffy watched him rub his red rimmed eyes and reach for his glasses. He looked as if he'd been crying, but it was probably just his exhaustion. Still, she could have sworn those were tear tracks drying on his cheeks. "Water?" her voice cracked.
"Certainly." There was a pitcher with two glasses on the table and he poured her half a glass before standing up and coming around the table. He stood awkwardly in front of the sofa and handed her the glass, carefully studying her face.
"Thanks." She again winced as she sat up, and he quickly bent down to help her sit up straighter. "Easy, you have a concussion at the very least."
Buffy took a small sip of water and then gave him a wry little smile. "You know all about those, huh?"
He blushed and slowly nodded. "Yes. I have some pain pills if you want them, but you should try and eat something first."
"I'll be okay," she said softly, watching his face. "Thank you."
He nodded and took the glass, setting it on the coffee table. He stood there as if he didn't know what to do or say next.
There was something off. Buffy was worried about him. She reached out and placed her fingers in his. "You were crying," she said softly.
Something broke on his face then. He squeezed her hand and closed his eyes. He hated breaking like this in front of her. He had to be strong for her. She was the injured party. He was afraid she'd die! And the last time they'd been together, he'd betrayed her!
Buffy pulled on his arm. "Please sit down, Giles. Next to me. It… hurts to look up like this."
He quickly sat down next to her on the sofa, surprised when she would not let go of his hand.
"I'm okay, Giles. Honestly. You saved me. Please, don't worry, okay?"
"Oh, Buffy. I always… worry about you." He moved his glasses back onto the coffee table so he could rub at his eyes with his free hand. "I thought… I thought I'd lost you." And he wasn't just talking about her injury.
"You could never lose me," she said softly. "Giles, please, look at me."
He turned his head and his sad eyes found hers. The expression on his face cut into Buffy's soul. He looked so sad and defeated. With her other hand, she slowly reached up and ran her fingers softly over his unshaven cheek. "You love me," she stated.
His eyes widened slightly but then he nodded. "Yes," he whispered. His face turned into her touch and he again closed his eyes, yearning for her comfort and love.
"I know. Now, I know," Buffy said softly. "Giles, look at me. Please, Giles."
Slowly he opened his eyes, still nuzzling her palm and seeking her warming touch.
"Can't you see it in my eyes?" She implored.
His head turned a bit more and he studied her face. He didn't see what he'd been agonizing over for the last couple of days. There was no anger, no animosity, no betrayal on her face. Instead, her eyes shown with compassion and… dare he believe it, love? He leaned closer and his fingers entwined with hers tightened.
"I love you too," she said softly, smiling a little at him. "That's what I was thinking about on patrol. It was my fault, Giles. You taught me better than that. I wasn't paying attention, because I was trying to figure out how to make you love me more than… more than… like a father." He opened his mouth to speak but she moved her fingers to his lips, silencing him. "But now I see. Now I see you and your love. It's… more and everything." Her soft fingers caressed his velvety lips. He opened his mouth and took one of her fingers inside, his tongue tasting her, sucking gently, but his eyes never left her face. He told her everything with his eyes that he'd wanted to tell her for so long. His body responded, wanting to show her, yearning towards her, aching to fill her up and make them whole.
Finally he had to speak. "Buffy," he said, still holding onto her fingers gently between his lips. "Luv, I… I'm so sorry. I betrayed you, and I betrayed myself."
"No, Giles. You were doing what you thought was the right thing to protect me," Buffy argued. "I know that. I forgive you, and I love you, and… it's over, okay? That's all over now." She released her hand and moved her other arm around him, pulling him closer. He was afraid of hurting her but had no choice really as she pulled him down and he rested his head on her chest. Her fingers moved to caress the back of his neck and to run her fingers through his hair. "I forgive you, and I love you."
All of Giles' pent up emotions came out then, as uncontrolled sobs racked his body and his tears dampened Buffy's shirt. Buffy cried with him. They both needed the release. It was a mixture of relief and gratefulness that bonded them even closer together.
Once they quieted they continued to hold each other close. Soon, Buffy fell asleep, her hands still on Giles' face and neck. He smiled softly, kissed one fingertip, and slowly eased himself out of her embrace.
He removed himself to the kitchen to make some scrambled eggs and tea. Buffy did need to eat. Eventually she'd probably want to shower too, although he'd helped her into clean sweats and a t-shirt last night before she'd again passed out into sleep. He was fairly certain now that physically she'd be okay.
Perhaps he should have felt like a huge weight was off of his shoulders now. She forgave him. She said that she returned his love. Giles wasn't totally naïve, however, when it came to head wounds. She still wasn't entirely herself, and a part of him wasn't yet completely in belief that his love was returned. Not completely. Not wholly. Yet he couldn't refute what he'd seen in her eyes.
Mostly, however, he just felt drained, with perhaps a spark of hope needling at his soul. If nothing else, he was determined to make this into a fresh start for him and his Slayer. The Council could bloody well go to Hell.
"I really want to wash my hair."
Giles jumped. He was still in the kitchen, finishing the eggs when Buffy's voice startled him. She was standing on the other side of the breakfast bar, giving him an amused look. He turned off the stove and set the pan aside, grabbing up a dish towel to wipe off his hands. He gave her a smile. She was looking stronger. "Alright. I can removed the bandage, but we should probably replace it when you are done."
"Okay," she said softly. She went into the kitchen and turned with her back to him, holding her head.
Without a word Giles put down the towel and studied the bandage. He removed it as gently as he could, trying not to hurt her too much. "It's healing nicely. I was afraid…"
"No stitches for the Chosen One," Buffy teased. "It's still awful tender though, but my headache is better."
"Good." He put the bandage remains into the trash can and washed his hands again. When he turned around he gave a surprised little sound when Buffy's arms circled his waist. She hugged him closely, not saying anything. Just hugging him. His arms moved around her. "Buffy…" Her name sounded like a prayer on his lips.
She leaned up and kissed his chin. "Save me some eggs." And then she was gone, and he heard the water running in the shower. And then he envisioned her in the shower and had to adjust his trousers. "Bloody hell," he murmured.
He busied himself setting the table and pouring some tea. He called Joyce again and told her that Buffy was healing well, and would probably be home later. Yes, he promised he'd have Buffy call her mother soon. He was just hanging up the phone when Buffy emerged from the bathroom. Her skin was pink from the heat of the shower, and her hair still a bit damp. She was wearing the gray sweat pants and white t-shirt he'd given her the night before. Because her skin was still damp, the shirt clung to her, and it was quite obvious to him she wore no bra. He swallowed hard and tore his gaze away, nodding towards the table. "Breakfast is served."
Buffy wasn't ignorant. She knew he'd been staring, and she'd quite liked it. Her body wasn't just warm from the shower. If she wasn't so sore, she'd have already jumped him by now. She knew he wanted her. She'd felt it when they were on the sofa together. Buffy could be impulsive, but with Giles, she wanted more. He meant everything to her. This had to be special. It was too soon. She didn't want to rush into it and ruin everything. Yet, all the tension and pain that had been between them this last year had all fallen away.
She joined him at the table and picked up her tea, sipping easily before picking up her fork to dive into her eggs. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten, and found herself starving.
"I promised your mother that you'd phone her," Giles said. "She was really worried about you."
Buffy nodded. "I'm sure she was. I'll call her later." Buffy didn't want to talk about her mom. She wanted to talk about how her body was tingling, and how it sort of amused her how Giles would give her chest little covert glances, and then in the next instance not be looking at her at all.
Giles, for his part, was cursing at himself mentally. Buffy was healing after nearly dying. They'd just been through a terrible ordeal with the Council. Yet here he sat with a raging hard on, thinking of only how Buffy's nipples would taste through the cotton of that t-shirt. He reached for his tea cup, and accidentally knocked it over, spilling the hot liquid all over the table cloth. "Dammit!"
Buffy went to jump up, but then winced and grabbed her head. He gave her a sorrowful look and grabbed at some napkins to clean up his spill. "I'm sorry, Buffy." He mopped up the mess and tossed the damp napkins onto the counter. "You should lie down again after breakfast. Are you sure you don't want any pain pills?"
"No, Giles. I don't like how they make me feel and… and I want to be clear and focused so we can… talk more." She licked her lips and pushed her empty plate away.
Giles sighed and pushed his own plate away, facing her and looking her into the eyes. "Buffy…"
"When I feel better, we'll do more than talk, okay?" She gave him one of her glorious grins.
He couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh Buffy." He leaned back in his chair, grinning at her. "It's true, right now, the last thing I want to do is talk."
"What do you want to do?" Buffy asked, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin in her hands. She knew she was teasing him dangerously now, but for some reason, she couldn't help herself. Their lives had been so full of pain and misery lately, and duty. She wanted to explore this new freedom she felt with Giles. Feel the heat coming off of him. Revel in their love for one another. She wanted him to believe, and be easy, just as she felt now.
Giles knew what she was doing. He decided it was time to throw his fears and caution to the wind. He'd built more than layers of tweed between them for years. Now he just wanted to strip himself bare before her. It was liberating, and it was joyful.
"I want to twirl my tongue over your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt, stoking this fire I feel between us until it consumes us." His voice had taken on a low quality, full of desire and need. Buffy swallowed and her breath almost stopped. "Go on," she whispered.
Giles moved both his hands to the edge of the table, gripping it fiercely. "I want to move my lips and tongue down your stomach until I reach your womanhood, and taste… oh God, Buffy. I want to taste you. All of you."
Buffy made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. Slowly she stood up. He didn't move, and the look between both of them was full of a withering heat for anything that got in their way to distract them from their path of completeness.
Slowly Buffy walked around the table to stand beside him. He turned towards her. She knelt down and placed her hands on his knees, turning his chair to face her.
He was as taut as a wire. His knuckles were white where they gripped the table. His breath was coming out in short gasps. His eyes were open to mere slits as he gazed down at her, and his arousal had never been so hard.
Buffy moved her hands up and down his thighs. "Look at me, Giles," she commanded. His eyes opened further and he watched her. She moved one of her hands up his thigh and then her fingers found his hardness. He inhaled deeply, a jerky, strangled breath. His eyelids half closed in pleasure but still he watched her.
Her fingers curled around his cock outside his pants. She wanted to feel his hot skin. His hips raised off of the chair, thrusting slightly towards her. He bit his lip.
"All your life has been about me," Buffy said, continuing to stroke him. "Protecting me, teaching me, supporting me, giving all of yourself for me. Now, I want to give to you. I love you, Giles. I love you with every fiber of my being. When I realized you loved me too… nothing else matters. Your love is why I fight. Your love makes everything worth it. See me, Giles, and believe. Believe in my love." Her lips found his, and they kissed. His hands left the table to pull her closer, his mouth devouring hers. She released his cock and wrapped her arms around his neck, climbing into his lap. As their mouths fused together, their bodies writhed together, his erection trapped between them. She rubbed herself against him and his hips rocked back into her.
His hands pressed against her back, moving up and down from her shoulders to her hips. He moaned into her mouth and moved his hands to the front of his jeans. He undid his pants while continuing to ravage her mouth. Soon his erection was free. He eased down her sweat pants, and Buffy lifted her hips. In one sudden movement she came down, impaling herself on him. They both groaned. She moved her hands to his shoulders and broke the kiss. Pulling back, her eyes locked onto his. "See me… see my love… Giles… oh… Giles!"
"I see you… I see you, my beloved, my Buffy, mine…" His hands encircled her waist as he felt her body grip onto his. Her orgasm ripped through her, tightening all around him, pulling his own pleasure out like lightening crashing over a barren desert. He watched her face as they both came, until their movements slowed and their bodies melted together. She rested her forehead against his and moved her hands to the back of his neck and head. "Now I see you, and I believe," she whispered.
Giles arms tightened in their embrace. The tears on his cheeks mingled with hers. They were tears of joy and love. Giles saw. Giles felt, and Giles believed.