Giles rested on the verge of waking and sleeping, caught in that slumberous realm. He turned, noticing an arm about him. His eyelids peeled open and Buffy's face came into view. Her arm sat loosely on his side and he smiled to himself. The turn had roused her too and, with a quiet sigh, her irises looked back at his. She saw that smile and smiled back.
"What?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" he returned.
"You're being jolly Giles."
"I suppose I am."
"Something good happen while I was asleep?"
"No, I was only thinking. I'm glad you're all right."
"I am. Just a little banged up is all. Looks like you are too," she frowned, reaching for a long scratch on his neck. He winced under the pressure of her thumb. "Sorry…"
"No worries," he assured her, his eyes automatically shutting from the soothing motion. She kept it up on that particular cut, moving to another along his jaw.
"So, uh, did you…" she started, trying to grasp the thought. His skin was so…
"Did I…?"
"Last night, I thought I heard someone. Here. In the room. Other than us."
"I thought I did, but I assumed it was a dream."
She noticed their surroundings. "Someone cleaned up our mess."
He reluctantly looked. "Oh, they did. It must have been Willow and Xander."
"Yeah. That was nice."
"It was."
He closed his eyes again and she gently turned his chin, spotting more cuts on the other side. "That thing got you good. Do they hurt?"
"Not really. Only if pressed…" he answered.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't—"
"No, it doesn't hurt when you do. It helps, actually."
She lightly traced one after another, thinking back on their moment in the shower the day before. He was so close to her, but if he had been just a bit closer…
Somehow, she'd slid nearer to him during that train of thought. They shared a pillow; one hand on his face, the other cradling his elbow. She studied him, a nervous flutter in her heart. His lips were of particular interest, almost like she hadn't noticed them until that moment. Then, one thought led to another, a curiosity. What would it be like if she kissed her Watcher? Was that against the rules? Would some bad thing happen, like they were turned into frogs or lost their souls? Only one way to find out…
"Good morning!" Willow called happily. Buffy rolled off Giles faster than if he'd been Principal Snyder, may he be resting in pieces. Willow picked up on that vibe and asked carefully, "Bad time?"
"No, not at all. Why would it be a bad time? There's only good time here. Nothing bad going on at all. Just good, good, good."
She raised her eyebrows. "Okey dokey. We brought you some breakfast!"
Giles slowly sat up against the pillows, reaching for his glasses. "You have? How thoughtful. And thank you for cleaning up."
"That was Xander. I made him."
"You did?" Buffy laughed.
"Oh yes. I laid down the law, ruled with an iron fist! I'm really tough, you know."
Xander appeared with a tray holding the breakfast they brought. Willow leapt excitedly. "We got you these puffy little scone thingies! They're like sconettes or something! I thought they were cute."
"Oh yeah. You're the toughest gal I know, Will," she smiled.
"That's right! We also got you doughnuts and coffee and general breakfasty stuff."
Xander set the tray down next to Buffy. "She spent almost twenty minutes picking this out."
"So I'm not great at making decisions. But when I make them, I really make them!"
"Thanks guys. So how's the cure coming?" Buffy inquired, going for a sconette.
"Well, about that…" Willow trailed off, looking to Xander.
"There's a ban on raven feathers. They won't get a shipment for another few days and we won't get one until then either," he explained.
Giles and Buffy glared. Xander and Willow backed up a few steps.
"But the one lady we talked to knew a lot about the Alimentous Oxonous. She opens her store in an hour, so we're going to go see her again. Maybe she'll have something to cure you or at least help until the feathers come in," Willow stated nervously. "You aren't going to behead us are you?"
"We'll answer that after you speak to the shop owner," Giles grunted, going for the coffee.
"I think we should go now," Xander said. "You know, camp out in the front…show how determined we are to fix our mistake…"
"Your mistake," Willow snapped.
"Must you point that out?"
"Yes."
"Fair enough."
"I think it would be best if you went as soon as possible," Giles said, tossing a glare in Xander's direction. "I have a dreadful headache and oddly enough it came just now."
"Point taken," Xander muttered. "But you do know I just installed a new, front door, right? That should get me closer on the side of good, huh? I got it from work, so you'll have to pay…" he stopped, seeing Giles becoming more disdainful, "…but that can wait. I just didn't want any flies or demons getting in."
"Thank you," he responded.
"You're welcome."
"Is there anything else we can do?" Willow asked weakly.
"Can you pick up some more clothes for me? I'm out of outfits and I doubt tweed will go with my shoes…" Buffy smiled at Giles and he returned a soft grin. At that point, the Scoobies noticed her attire: his robe.
"Oh, okay. Anything specific?" Willow responded distractedly. Why was she in his robe?
"I'm not going dancing at the Bronze or walking the red carpet, so I think comfy clothes will do. Oh, and grab some magazines. I have a feeling we'll be stuck in here for awhile."
"You got it, Buff. Loving the robe, by the way," Xander commented. Willow stomped on his foot and pulled him toward the hall.
"Well, we're going now. Try to get some rest. I bet you're really tired after killing that thing! I'm impressed you could, being sick and stuff. Not that I didn't believe in you. You're the Slayer and the Watcher, I mean. That's what you do. You slay and you watch and you get rid of evil fuglies to better the world, no matter how messy it gets! It looked like it got really messy and icky. I bet you had to shower after that! And now you're wearing Giles's robe," she froze the second it slipped out. Buffy and Giles blankly stared, so she kept walking after Xander. "See you later!"
After they left, there was a moment of silence. Buffy held out a sconette. "Have you tried these yet?"
"No, I haven't," he replied, taking it and ignoring the awkwardness Willow and Xander never failed to create.
They enjoyed their breakfast, she enjoyed the warmth of his robe, and all was forgotten—even the moment of insanity in which she wanted to kiss Giles. She suppressed a shudder at the thought.
-.-.-
Willow rifled through Buffy's room for some clothes while Xander sat on her bed, flipping through her magazines. "So, how about the Buffster in the G-man's robe? Are you seeing it yet?"
"Seeing what?" she frowned.
"Buffy and Giles making with the smoochies! She's such a Watcher's pet."
"Come to think of it, when I walked in, she acted jumpy like I interrupted something!"
"Something is definitely there. She's always batting her eyes at him and he's always fussing over her, doing that British stuttering thing…" he responded.
"She's always been jealous if anyone else took away his attention, and he's always been kinda wary of her boyfriends…but that could be the whole vampire and member-of-demon-hunting-military-operations thing."
"No, there was more than that. More of a wary, jealous vibe than a wary, she-could-be-in-mortal-danger vibe. But that was there too."
"I still don't know, Xander…"
"Will, there's been a scandal right under our noses! I bet they're secretly together!"
She scoffed. "Buffy would tell me."
"She hasn't always kept us in the loop, you know! Especially when a certain moody, soul-having, leather-clad vamp named Angel was concerned. A relationship with Giles would fall in the secretive category even further than one with fang boy. He's her Watcher and so…old…"
"He's not that old. Angel is older than he is. I mean, in number not face value. I just, you really don't think Giles and Buffy are…do you? Would they? Could they? Have they? Are they? Will they?"
"Overloading on the questions there, Will."
"Be honest with me! I can take it! Do you think they've been dating?"
"Think about it: the late nights 'training' together, the research, the patrols…"
"You can't think that they were—"
"Doing it, doing it, totally doing it."
"I always thought Giles was fired because he cared about her like a father, but I guess it could be the other kind of love. How could she not tell me? This is huge! This is life changing! Bigger than when they changed coke into New Coke! I—I can't believe it…"
"Oh believe it," he answered. "They're probably making out right now."
-.-.-
The water was cold, frigid daggers over her hands. She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror; peaked, pale features, tired eyes, faint cuts, bed head, but she couldn't help admiring that robe. She'd have to find an excuse to wear it again sometime…
"Buffy?" Giles called in a frantic tone.
Without letting her illness slow her motions, she darted into the bedroom and to his side. "Giles? What's wrong?"
"I must have dozed off. I had a nightmare and you weren't here when I woke."
"Sorry. Had to run to the little girl's room."
There was a hint of lingering fear in his eyes. It ran through her when he gazed, as if to assure himself she was still breathing. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to do the talky feelings thing?"
"About what exactly?" he answered, fiddling with his glasses.
"This nightmare. It's obviously got you wigged. So, spill."
He seemed timid, more so than she'd seen. She thought about closing the subject, but he started to speak just as her mouth moved to do the same.
"It's been a reoccurring nightmare since I've known you, Buffy. Sometimes, it varies, but the result is always the same. You die and I've failed to protect you. Your death, or deaths, only makes the nightmare more real. When I awoke and you were gone, I started to panic and think those close calls yesterday weren't just that."
She wasn't sure what hit her harder: what he said or the sincerity with which he said it. It took a moment to regain the strength to answer him. "Well, they were and you're stuck with me."
"I'm very glad I am."
"You know, I'm glad I'm stuck with you too."
The pillows rustled as she settled into a position next to him. Her hand remained planted on his shoulder, her arm snaking across his breadth. He leaned against her, eyes shut, grunting and wincing in pain.
"You okay?" she asked worriedly.
"Perhaps my headache wasn't Xander after all. I can swear there's a little bugger with a sledge hammer in there."
She laughed, mindlessly relocating her hand to his temple. "I'm just stuffy, and not the boring kind."
"I doubt you could be the boring kind if you tried."
Her fingertips went to work, massaging and occasionally running through his hair. That insanity crept back into her mind. There Giles was, snuggling up to her contentedly, practically purring under her touch, and she was focused on his smiling mouth. He had a cute smile, she thought, quickly chiding herself for thinking it. It wasn't nearly as cute as his accent, though.
If someone didn't get her out of there soon, Giles would be kissed before he knew whose lips hit him…