Chapter 14

A Date

AN: So, here it comes. The-First-Date-Chapter :) I hope I can hold up to the expectations.

Many thanks for the kind reviews, it does make one very happy to know that people like the story, it also rises the pressure to keep up the writing at least as good as till now...

I'm not entirely sure whether I didn't put Giles with an assumed Byron-liking a little out of his character... but I needed to create some connection between the two :) well, you'll see, let me know what you think.

Giles wished himself far-far away.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I didn't... realize... how awfully-uh... embarrassing..."

Helen was looking at him, but couldn't help it and burst into a laughter. Giles' eyes widened, yet he found the sound so pleasant, that it made him forget about his mishap and he smiled back at her.

After a while when she recovered they went on. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "Did you really think I flew all the way from London to Sunnydale on a broomstick? I mean... that would take like... I don't know... even with the new Firebolt... well, it certainly wouldn't have been faster, and... since I've attended the wedding the day before – not mine –" She caught his quickly raised head. "- it probably wouldn't have been the best idea either..."

"W-well, I didn't... exactly... I just wouldn't have thought you flying with-uh... a plane..."

"I admit it's-eh... rather unconventional for a wizard." She nodded and they slowed their walk a little as they were approaching her and Mr. Pescoe´s classroom.

Giles raised his eyebrows curiously, but she didn't want to get into it.

"That's a long story. Perhaps some other time... But how was your summer? Did you... read... something nice?" She asked.

"Uh-I've read several-uh... wearisome volumes dealing with vampires and other demons, I'm not sure nice would apply to them, but they'd proven-uh... interesting, rich on details, and instructive, although quite unappetising on occasions... and I managed to reread my old Byron collection..." He blushed a little again, unsure of whether he should have shared the last bit.

Now it was her who raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Byron? Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

"Well, last time I read it I was... it was long ago, I've wondered whether it'd still have the-eh... impact it had..."

"And?" She asked.

"I-I still found it... rather good. It did not knock my socks off like then, but... it still holds its fascination..."

"Doesn't it?" She murmured thoughtfully, making a mental note about this and remembering something... there was an announcement back in June, in the local paper... She's already got an idea.

"Was there any vampire activity during the summer?" She asked him.

"No, no, there wasn't. We-uh, we buried the skeleton of the Master, and since then – no, no vampires..."

In that moment Willow, Xander and Buffy reached them, Willow saying in excitement: "Buffy killed a vampire last night!"

After a short confused talk they all parted to their classes, Giles resorted to his library to search for possible reasons why vampires would gather in the Hellmouth again so soon after the Master's death.

In the afternoon Helen was so tired that she decided to just go home and have some sleep after the strains of the long flight and of the first school day. She was just opening the front door of her house when a dark hooded figure appeared out of nowhere and before she could react in any way, she was knocked out unconscious. She woke up hours later, only for a few moments, to see that she was lying tied up in a dark room that looked like an old warehouse or a factory, another body was lying next to her, but she could only recognize that it was a woman, before someone came from behind, hit her head and she passed out.

When she came to herself again, the first thought was that she was dreaming: She opened her eyes and saw the blurred face of Giles bowing above hers, talking at her in a quiet yet urgent voice.

"I wouldn't mind waking up in this manner every day." She murmured to herself, sure that the handsome vision would disappear soon as she would wake entirely from her dream. However it didn't. Instead the now clear and sharp face of the librarian was frowning at her. She frowned back, then set herself up leaning on her elbows. Only now she took a look of the surroundings that were the same as before, a dark, hardly lit up room in some down and out building. Sounds of a fight, or of several, were coming from somewhere near. Next to her sat Willow and Cordelia, they obviously just woke up too.

"Are you alright?" She asked him finally. "Where are we?" Giles helped her to get up, then Xander appeared in a door and ran to squeeze Willow. She seemed surprised but happy.

They were all up now and looking over a metal railings downwards, into a wide room beneath them, where Buffy was about to kill the last couple of vampires. Those, as Giles shortly explained to Helen and Cordelia, had tried to bring the Master back to life, using an old revivification ritual, thus captured those four of them who had been near the Master as he died, and were about to slit their throats in order to let their blood pour on the Master's bones.

"Wow. I can't believe I had actually missed this place..." Helen whispered, while they were watching Buffy "working out her issues", crashing the remains of the old vampire with a desperate passion. It was a sad scene, Helen couldn't help it but think that it appeared as if Buffy was trying to smash her own destiny with it too, the burden of which she probably has been finding just too heavy now. A girl of sixteen, destined to constantly save the world, to risk her own life every day to save the butts of people who might not even be worth it, to face the danger of her own extinction every single day, not being able to have a normal life ever, to afford building up friendships, even less love...

But then they saw Angel walking over to her, taking her into his arms, holding her tight.

The following first weeks of the new school year had been rather busy. Buffy, Willow, Xander and Helen had to get accustomed to their new classes, the kids had to get into their new junior-year routine, Helen had to prepare her first lessons and at least try to learn the names of her new students.

And Giles... well, Giles was up to something completely different, as Buffy and Xander got the chance to find out when they surprised him on an afternoon: He was sitting on a chair in the library, his back turned to them, opposite to him yet another but empty chair, at which he was talking.

Buffy and Xander exchanged curious looks.

"Do you think someone else got invisible? Because that wasn't fun..." Xander whispered.

Buffy grinned. "I don't think so. Listen." Slowly they were approaching and heard Giles' stutter.

"W-w-w-what I'm proposing is, um... and I-I don't mean to appear indecorous, is, is, um, a, a-a-a social engagement, um, a, a, a, a-a date, if you're amenable..." They both were trying their best not to laugh, as Giles slapped his thighs. "You idiot!" "Boy!" Buffy exclaimed and Giles jumped up to turn at them, with shock all over his face. "I guess we never realized how much like that chair."

"I-I-I was just working on-" He was rubbing his forehead, clearly embarrassed.

"Your pick up lines? Right, you might wanna leave off the idiot-part. And also you should avoid words like amenable or indecorous."

"Hm?"

"You know, speak English, not... whatever they speak in-uh..."

"England?" Giles raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah. You just say I got a thing, you might have thing, maybe we could have a thing."

"What if she is from England too?"

"Don't hold it against her, G-man." Xander said throwing himself on a chair. "They're not all that bad."

Giles gave him an annoyed look, and Buffy continued her advice.

"Then you say How do you feel about Mexican?"

"About Mexicans?"

...

Yet Giles had to put his plans aside for a couple of days, as a new case emerged for the Scoobies. Someone seemed to be digging out bodies of young girls. After some thorough investigation they found out that two students from the school, Eric and Chris, were planning on patching up a girl, made from different parts of different dead bodies, but they still didn't know anything about the reasons for this abominable scheme.

On the next day during the long break between the third and the fourth period Giles was staying in the courtyard, embracing tightly a pile of books, stepping nervously from one foot onto another, being on the lookout for Helen. Buffy, Willow and Xander did encourage him in their funny way to go for it and ask her out, but it made him feel even more embarrassed and impossible, to think that he in fact needed tips and encouragement from teenagers...

Then he saw her. She was walking across the square and when she spotted him, he'd notice that she blushed a little and took a deep breath, then walked straight towards him. He was alarmed at this.

"Mr. Giles." She greeted him with a nervous smile.

"Miss-uh... McGregor, hello."

For a brief moment they both seemed speechless.

"I-"

"I-"

They laughed.

"You first." She said.

"Oh, thanks..." Alright, here we go. "Uh-uh... would-would it appear indecorous, no, not indecorous... uh-... would it... wha-what I'm proposing-eh... if-if you're amen-, no, not-uh that either... would you..." He closed his eyes and proceeded with the idiot part silently in his head, then exhaled, rubbing shortly his forehead. "W-what-eh... did you want to say?" He tried to sound as casual as possible as if none of the previous gibberish had slipped his mouth.

She was looking at him, her eyes widened, and was feeling even more insecure than before.

"I've-eh... been meaning to ask you – I've got-eh..." She was talking to his chest, not daring to meet his eyes. "I've got two... tickets for-eh... there is this Byron musical night tonight in the theatre... and... they'll play- I really don't know if you're into it, into classics, - because it's perfectly ok, if you're not... I-I'll understand..."

"Byron night?" He interrupted her, in his surprise he forgot how nervous he had been. She remembered.

Now she raised her head to him finally. "W-well, it's what they called it, but it's rather a proper concert, there is this orchestra visiting from someplace in France and they'll be playing two symphonies upon Byron's works, Berlioz and-uh... and Cajkovskij... They're both rather beautiful music..." She didn't know how to interpret his look: "... if you're a classic-fan... Which you're probably not, sorry, forget it, I don't know what I was thinking, it was-"

"I'd very much like to come... with you." He said smiling gently and was delighted to see her eyes beaming. "And perhaps after that we can have some Mexicans." He added.

She frowned. "?"

"Uh- mexican. Mexican-uh food. That is – if you like."

"Sure." She nodded and they both headed inside.

"When shall I pick you up?" He asked her, as they reached her classroom.

"Let's see... The thing begins at half past seven I think... perhaps at seven then? You remember where my house is?"

"Of course."

"Great." She was blushing now a little, her fingers again playing with her scarf.

He smiled at her, then twinkled and said: "I'll see you at seven then."

"Yes."

"I'm very much looking forward... to it." He added, then bowed his head slightly and finally left.

As he was walking back to the library, a dreamy expression appeared on Giles' face. The feeling in his stomach was indescribably beautiful. He felt... an unknown sensation of anticipation, his knees felt so... as if his bones were made of a sponge, but it wasn't unpleasant, no, it was rather fascinating to him. He remembered remotely that he had felt something similar all those years ago, when he wanted to but in the end did not ask Anna out, his fellow watcher-in-waiting... A short sadness overcame him at the memory, yet in a way he felt sort of content, happy or rather satisfied now as if he had now completed the "task" from back then and made it right after all. Well, strictly taken I didn't ask her, she had to ask me in the end, but still, here I am, going on a ... date... He raised his eyebrows still in a little wonderment about the fact, then frowned a little. She didn't say it was a date. I hope it is a date. Is it a date? What does qualify as a date? What is a definition of a date? Is it researchable somewhere...

Yet when the evening came, his date seemed to be threatened by the developments in the newest Slayer-case evolving around Eric and Chris. The two boys did not come to school that day and him and the Scoobies had to worry about whether or not they might have completed their horrid plan and indeed created a patch-work-girl. Then Giles found out that the police had collected three girl heads which meant that Chris and Eric still were one step away from fulfilling their mission. Buffy decided for a quick action, she wanted to end it now, since she had little doubt that – if not Chris – then Eric certainly wouldn't hesitate to get a fresh head and kill some girl for the purpose.

Giles agreed with her, but then he slapped his forehead. "Oh no!" He threw a stealthy, shy look at the three of them, who were staring at him expectantly. "I-uh...I'm supposed to-to go to the concert tonight..."

Willow bit her lip so that she wouldn't grin widely, Buffy just rolled her eyes. "Right, you go then. We'll handle it."

"W-well, a-are you sure? Shouldn't I-?"

"Don't worry. We'll take care of it... Should there be any trouble, I'll beep you."

Giles looked somewhat confused. "Uh- beep me?"

Buffy gave him an impatient frown. "The beeper, you have it, haven't you?"

"Oh! Right, the-the beeper, yes, I do. Well then..." He looked at his watch. It was seven minutes to seven. "O dear." He hesitated yet once more.

"Well off you go, Giles, we can manage without you." Buffy said to him in a reassuring tone.

"Hm? Oh, it's-eh... it's not that." Then he walked fast into his office to grab his coat, while Willow gave Buffy a meaningful look, to which the latter responded with a question in her eyes. Willow whispered to her "Ms. McGregor" and "nervous" and grinning Xander drew with his fingers a heart in the air.

"Aaaaah." Buffy understood now.

Giles came out, looking very much fidgety, nervous, and he disappeared three more times in his office, always forgetting something, before he finally left.

"And remember! Speak English!" Buffy shouted at him as he was hurrying out. He slowed his walk but didn't turn back at her.

Helen was looking in the mirror in her anteroom, wondering whether she should wait for him to come and ring the door bell or whether she should go out and wait outside... Those silly little choices, I hate thinking of stuff like that.... she thought sighing. And what if he won't like it? Wasn't this concert-idea rather a disaster? Poor Giles, he'll suffer terribly if he doesn't like it... He'll hate me afterwards... What was I thinking? !... Well, it is a little too late for that, dear, her inner voice tried to calm her down, so she took a deep breath, shook her head at her reflection and stepped away to take a look from a window.

Finally, at seven she decided to wait outside, took her sweater and her purse and locked the door. She threw a first nervous glance at the empty and quiet road. As the minutes were passing by and he wasn't coming, she was beginning to panic a little. Well, he won't hate me, because he might not be here at all...

It was already after seven and Giles was straying through Sunnydale's streets and alleys. Of course I know where your house is, sure... he mumbled to himself sarcastically when he drove back out of the sixth one-way street that neither proved itself to be the right one. It must be somewhere here...

At last, way too late he arrived at her house. She was standing at the front door, waiting, starring nervously at the road. Again he thought in a little surprise how charming she looked... and immediately felt bad that he let her waiting so long that she might have even thought he'd forgotten. When she saw his car, she walked slowly the path towards the road where he'd park.

He got out. "I'm terribly sorry, there was this thing Buffy and the others are working on, and... I'm sorry."

She nodded, but didn't say anything, and let him open the car door for her.

When they both set it, he sensed her being a little tensed.

"I'm sorry... again, You did think I wouldn't come?" He asked her in his soft voice.

Quickly she turned at him. "No, no. I-... not really." She laughed nervously and Giles wanted to put a hand upon her, but he remembered the time in the library, several months ago, when she had jumped back as he tried the same, though the circumstances were different then, he decided not to.

"I-uh... have to confess something." He said in an earnest tone, starting the car.

Helen's eyes widened, wondering what would follow.

"I couldn't find your house. I got lost couple of times" He gave her a short look.

Helen leaned back at her seat, almost a little disappointed. But then she smiled into herself amused.

When they reached the theatre at exactly half past seven, there were many concert-guests gathered in front of the building, most staying in small groups, all dressed up, chattering. Helen and Giles proceeded to the entrance.

"Oh look!" She pointed at the large poster announcing the Byron en musique. "I was wrong, it begins at eight! We still have half an hour." She turned at him, pleased that they haven't missed anything, while Giles shook his head bemused. He should be mad, at least a little, after all he wouldn't have to hurry so much, had he known, but somehow... when he was following her, watching her, how she was walking up the stairs, then through the halls, and then when they reached the concert hall and the sounds of the tuning the orchestra could be heard from somewhere backstage and she turned her beautiful, excited, shining face at him... well, let's say he was very, very far from being mad.

"I love that sound... the tunings of the strings..." She said in an apologetic way when she noticed his bemused expression. They walked slowly towards a side-staircase, their seats were in the balcony above the auditorium.

"How comes you had two tickets for this?" He asked her. Helen blushed.

"Uh-...I-ah... I saw the announcement for this in June and then later when you told me you've been reading Byron, I-uh... I thought I-uh... I remembered it and-uh... I bought two tickets..."

"For me?" He asked curiously.

"Well..., yes, actually..." She proceeded towards their seats in the middle of the front row, right in front of the railings. "Here, I think these are ours." Helen hoped he wouldn't pursuit the subject of the two-tickets anymore.

"Oh." They both took their seats and put their coats over the railings. "And what if I couldn't have come?" He asked yet once more, a sheepish smile playing upon his lips.

Helen looked directly into his eyes. "Well, then-uh... I would have more space for myself, wouldn't I now?" She said in a tone, suggesting that it was obvious.

"Right. Quite so." He nodded, they looked at each other a little longer in silence, beaming, before some other guests disturbed them, who needed to pass by to their seats.

"I hope you won't hate me after this... if you don't like it. I know classics isn't everybody's thing..."

"Oh, I-I'm not a-a complete-uh... ignorant when it comes to it." Giles said. Now she turned a little on her seat to have a better look at him. "I had my-uh... Bach-phase... when I was a teenager." He smiled rather bashfully.

"Really?"

"Yes... that was-uh...I liked it, back then, I haven't listened to those records in years... and-uh... Beethoven of course..." He gave her a stealthy look, hoping he scored.

"Oh." She indeed seemed impressed. He only hoped she wouldn't ask him for anything concrete. How many symphonies did he compose again? He tried to remember hardly... Go for No. 2, everyone did two at least, didn't they?...

"Yes, Beethoven is an old love of mine too, I was just listening to the Piano Concertos yesterday, it's one of the few music things I can listen to while working..."

Piano Concertos? No symphonies? "Yes, yes, they're-uh... lovely." He answered.

Unfortunately Helen seemed interested in this. "You know them? Do you have your preferred one, some heart-affair?" She asked curiously.

Two, go for two! "Five." The number slipped his mouth. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again and looked at her. "I mean they're all-"

"Really? Fifth, it's my absolute favourite! The Adagio, that sounds so timeless..."

"My words exactly." He said and squirmed nervously, desperate to find another topic, besides he was uncomfortable with this messing around and lying, though it was just small stuff. He decided he would obtain this Beethoven album and then listen to it as soon as possible. "So-uh... you only listen to classics then?"

"Well, almost. I know, I'm somewhat limited when it comes to music. I haven't heard anything younger then 1920-ties in a long time... It's a real gap, I admit... What about you?"

"Uh-... I do have some-uh... modern albums... well, not really modern, Buffy would probably say something about stuck in the 60-ties, but it's rather good music, in my opinion at least."

"Sixties..." Helen nodded thoughtfully. The only thing she knew from that time was some muggle boy-band called Beatles, those weren't bad actually... not exactly her taste, but...

"Perhaps I can show you sometime... that is if-if you're-uh... amenable... I mean, if you like..." He gave her a quick look, not sure how it sounded.

"Sure... that... could be nice." She nodded smiling.

They sat in an awkward silence for a moment, then he asked. "Don't-uh... wizards rather have their own, better composers?"

"Oh, no, no. You see composing music isn't something one could achieve with magic, so there are no... special... musicians. Actually it's the other way round." She lowered her voice and leaned slightly towards him to say in a secretive tone. "Some of the world's famous composers were actually wizards."

Giles stared at her intrigued.

She nodded, to underline her words. Then she continued whispering. "Take Purcell for instance."

Purcell? The Purcell? Britain's greatest? Noo... He frowned in disbelief, but Helen was still nodding and smiling. "Yes, it's true. The witches singing in the premiere of his Dido and Aeneas were actually real ones."

Giles was speechless at first. "But-... how... why-?"

"Well, he didn't want to settle for being successful among the small wizarding community, obviously, so... he wanted to conquer the muggle fame as well... must be the part of an artist's vanity I suppose, he wasn't the only one." She added casually, then gave him a meaningful look, but before he could ask anything else, they were interrupted by the arrival of the orchestra on the stage. Then the leader first violinist began to supervise the last tunings. Both Giles and Helen seemed distracted by the sounds that they didn't talk anymore before a festively dressed-up woman finally appeared to announce the first of the two pieces that were to be played that evening – Berlioz' Harold en Italie – then the conductor came. Giles leaned back at his seat, curious what would come, tensely determined to enjoy this. He couldn't remember the last time he was in a classic concert, but it must have been very long ago...

The strings began to play a quiet, fugitive movement, soon a solo viola joined them, playing a very distinctive, pleasant melody.

"Why is the man standing so aside?" Giles leaned to her and whispered, while not taking his eyes from the stage, yet pointing at the solo-violist, who was staying unusually secluded from the orchestra, rather close to the audience.

Helen leaned towards him too and felt her heartbeat accelerating at the closeness between them, his face only inches from hers.

"He and his melody-uh... they-uh..." She paused and gulped, watching his profile, the same lips that happened to be kissing her some time ago in a dream, her voice a little shivery when she managed to continue in a whisper after he gave her a confused look. "-they are supposed to symbolize Harold, he is to be isolated from the orchestra, that was Berlioz' instruction..."

Giles nodded and then leaned back on his seat. He listened to the music and Helen would now and then throw a stealthy glance at him to see, whether he was suffering too much. But Giles wasn't. In the third movement she noticed his eyes fixed at the violist, his face had a very calm, relaxed, even pleased expression, he seemed content, truly deepened into it all. He had such handsome features, there was some sort of a mysterious air around him, he was eradiating this air of beauty, not just in a physical sense, though he undoubtedly was a handsome man too, very handsome...

When the final fourth movement Orgie de brigands began with the tremendously loud sudden pickup of the whole orchestra, Giles straightened up, a little scared on his seat. Yet he was listening in fascination until the end.

When the first symphony was over and a short break was announced, they both got up and went to the foyer to have a glass of wine.

"So, have you been suffering a lot?" Helen asked him finally as they found some space aside from the masses of other guests.

"Not at all." Giles answered, sipping from his glass. "It-uh... was rather... fascinating... though the last movement was somewhat confusing..." He added frowning.

Helen nodded knowingly. "Yes, the Orgy." Giles furrowed his eyebrows. Orgy?

She caught his look. "The Orgy of the brigands, that's the title... Berlioz sort of sums up the previous parts of the piece, but... Harold doesn't resume his original part in it anymore, you know, the viola-melody from the beginning, it's not played anymore in its proper form... it's called romantic irony..." She continued talking about the piece, excited like a little child, and Giles would catch only now and then a phrase, a word, he wasn't listening, though he was trying... well, at least at first... No, his thoughts were with her, but elsewhere, he forgot all about the music, he was looking at her, as they were staying in a weakly lit corner, leaning against the wall, absorbing every little detail of her appearance. His lips were twitching into a smile. How beautiful she was...

"... and then the clarinets took over..."

In her brown eyes there seemed to be dancing a few little sparkles now. One strand of hairs hung loosened along her face, little strips of reflected shining light appeared at the crests of its wave...

"...as he joined the march of the pilgrims..."

She was chattering so fast, so... passionately, so full of enthusiasm, her small mouth moving so fast... Her lips were so lovely, the lower lip was fuller than the upper one, the corners thin and then suddenly wandering off into this couple of gentle ruby red tiny mounts. The upper lip was like a thin line, yet it had this ideal form... what did it remind him of?

"... the celli were outstanding..."

A cello, yes, it was shaped like a violoncello cut in half, with its perfect curves and the little sinking right in the middle... Though he was hanging on her lips now, he didn't hear that she was already talking about the other symphony that was to follow that evening.

"... but Cajkovskij found it boring at first. Can you believe that? Cajkovskij actually thought Manfred's boring?" She said, shaking her head in amazement, looking at him, expecting some reaction. Giles got alarmed a little and managed to catch the following: "Can you imagine that... only like what... seventy years later he couldn't relate to Byron anymore... that he didn't understand it?"

"Well, I don't-uh... think it's unusual... I mean, how often we ourselves do not-uh... understand things that happened... only a generation ago, actions, things for instance that our-uh... our parents did, thoughts they thought, ideas and views they had, even more recently than seventy years ago..."

"Hm." She murmured, looking at him very much puzzled. Then she noticed his eyes slipping for a second from hers, lower to her lips and her hand jumped nervously to her neck, to grab her scarf that she wasn't wearing tonight. She caught her necklace instead and was now feeling somewhat insecure, so she turned her head towards the large door that led back to the upper balcony.

"I think we can return. Seems like the break will be over soon."

Giles did notice the movement and had to suppress yet another smile, then followed her back to their seats.

"But he finally took the job, Cajkovskij?" Giles asked when they were seated again.

"Yes, he had changed his mind later, though he had nagged quite a lot about it all, how it made him depressed to work on it and everything..." She replied.

And then the Manfred-Symphony sounded and Giles found himself again very much caught in the music, imagining the byronic hero wandering in his gloomy mood through the mountains, summoning the appearance of the Witch of Alps, her talking to Manfred...

He was enjoying the first moments of the last movement when a sound that was rather painful, disturbed them all. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Helen turned to him. Then again: beep-beep. Beep-beep. It seemed to be coming from his pocket. Then Giles remembered. Frantically he took the beeper-thingy out of his trousers. Beep-beep Beep-beep. It was Buffy. Other guests were already sh-shing at them or shaking their heads disapprovingly. Giles took his coat, then turned to Helen and whispered to her. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid..." Yet she interrupted him, laying her hand on his arm, already getting up, taking her sweater and motioning him to follow her outside.

They hurried out and at the reception Giles called the library. There Willow picked up and told him, that Daryl, Chris' older brother together with Eric were after Cordelia, whose head was supposed to complete their project. Cordelia, after Buffy had thwarted an attack at her, was now cheerleading at the big baseball-game, Xander watching her, while Buffy and Chris went to look for Eric and Daryl.

"You best come here, Giles, I must go to Xander!"

"Yes, right, I'll be there." He hung up and walked fast towards Helen, who already put on her sweater and was waiting for him at the exit.

"I'm terribly sorry, I must return to the school, it's urgent."

"Alright." She said, going ahead. Giles wasn't sure what to do, but she seemed to have decided to come with him without question.

In the car she finally asked what was going on and Giles let her in on their last case. When he finished, Helen shrugged. "Uurgh, that's-uh... rather ghastly... why would anyone want to do such a thing?" She wondered incredulously.

They reached the school just in time and in the corridor they ran into Willow and Xander, who told them that Eric and Daryl were in the old school lab with Cordelia, Buffy and Chris went after them. All four of them now hurried towards the old science-room.

There it looked like a scene from a horror-movie. Eric laid on the ground, unconscious, Cordelia was bound to an operating table, unable to move, Buffy was fighting with what must have been Daryl, who himself looked like he'd been patched up together from his own scratches. And the room was on fire. Quickly they judged the situation and while Giles and Helen carried Eric out of there, Xander went to rescue Cordelia.

Finally, it ended well, well at least for Buffy and the Scoobies, Daryl decided to go down in the flames, with his unfinished companion... For Chris of course it was hard and Buffy had to prevent him from wanting to save his brother, whom he himself had brought back to life some time ago, after Daryl actually died in a climbing accident.

Now Helen and Giles were standing in front of the school, watching Buffy comforting Chris, who were soon joined by Angel.

"Again, I'm very sorry about all this, that's certainly not how you must have-uh... imagined our..." He cleared his throat. "-uh imagined the evening."

Helen smiled and shook her head.

"No, not-uh...quite."

"We didn't get to hear the last part of Manfred's either... I'm sorry, knowing you said that was the best part..." He said.

She nodded thoughtfully. Then she looked at her watch and bit her lip, hesitating for a moment whether to go on with the suggestion. Hell, why not...

"It's-uh... still not too late... perhaps..."

Giles furrowed his eyebrows. "Is the fourth movement that long?"

Helen laughed. "No, the concert sure is long over... I meant..." She blushed and was looking at him nervously. "I have a record, at home, perhaps... if you're not entirely exhausted after this-uh... event... we could-uh... catch it up."

Giles felt again his heart beating faster and his knees getting weaker, as he answered. "Y-yes. That-uh... sounds nice..."

"Good."

As they were walking to his car, Giles asked wondering. "Aren't you hungry?"

Helen stopped, wondering now too: "Actually, I'm starving." Then she threw at him an innocent look. "Maybe we can order some Mexicans."

Giles grinned at her, before opening the car door for her.

When they arrived at Helen's, she indeed ordered some Mexican food for them (with a nice bottle of wine). They went over into the living room, Helen picked the said record and put it on the player, somewhere at the end of the third movement. Then she walked to Giles and they both sat on the sofa, listening, starring into the fire in the fireplace. Giles again immersed himself into the music, that was... amazing he would say. He would never have thought... yet, he felt as if he was right there, present at the untamed, loud bacchanals in the hall of Arimanes, waiting for Manfred to appear, then summoning the spirit of Astarte, and finally, parting from him during the breathtaking hymn in the end, portraying Manfred's long desired death and reconciliation... He could imagine it all so vividly, even better than back then when he was reading the original piece.

Giles was still watching the flames long after the music was over, and was only disturbed by the door bell, as their food came delivered and Helen got up to take it, but he stopped her just in time, he wanted to pay for their dinner at least.

They ate in the kitchen, at the large table, some music playing quietly in the background, occasionally talking about diverse things. Helen was interested in Giles' first encounter with Buffy, so he began to tell her the story of Buffy's first days in Sunnydale, which he continued when they were finished eating and betook themselves back to the living room, with their glasses of wine.

They were sitting comfortably on the sofa, Giles allowed himself – after he gave it a thorough thought of pros and contras – to take off his tweed-jacket and stay in his shirt. Helen changed the record for some mild, unobtrusive piano music.

"Wow, tough, right upon her first day here Buffy had to save the world?" Helen said admiringly, when Giles ended telling her about the successful – well not so from the Master's perspective – outcome of the Harvest about a year ago.

"Well, yes, something like that."

"I wonder how she handles it sometimes." Helen was contemplating. Giles didn't answer, frankly, Buffy, the Slayer or the Scoobies were about the last things he would want to talk about here and now...

Apparently the same thought occurred to Helen too, because she suddenly took her blank look away from the fire, turned herself to him and said in a light tone. "So, how did you find it tonight? Was it very horrible for you?"

He put his glass at the coffee table and shook his head vehemently. "By no means! Not at all. It was lovely..."

Helen's eyes widened as she was hanging on his lips, awaiting his verdict. Her look made him pause.

"You meant the part with concert I hope... not-uh... not the massacre afterwards?"

"Hm?... Oh, yes, I meant that."

"Good." He said relieved.

They fell again silent for a while, sitting, turned to each other, their elbows leaning on the backrest of the sofa.

In the hardly lit up room, with the only light being the dancing flames in the fireplaces, his face looked even more... arcane, mysterious, more charismatic... Helen wished for a moment to put down his glasses where now the firelight was reflecting, making it almost impossible to see his eyes properly when he turned her head to her.

As if he had read her mind, he took his glasses off, rubbing his forehead. Helen now laid her wine aside as well, in the same moment when he was about to put his glasses on the table, so that their hands brushed. They smiled at each other, strangely, it didn't feel awkward. Helen thought that it must have been because of the wine... It was also getting hotter in the room. Yes, it must be the wine.

"You have a very nice house here." Giles said, looking around the living room.

"Oh, yes, and you wouldn't believe how ridiculously cheap it was." She replied.

Giles laughed. "Actually..."

He didn't finish the sentence, but got caught in her eyes.

Without noticing really they were slowly approaching each other, not breaking off the stare, not even blinking. Their both hearts were beating so fast, and it sounded so loud in their heads that the piano music seemed to be coming from some very far, distant place. When their faces were only inches from each other, Giles' eyes began to wander over her face, while she kept starring into his, puzzled by the beautiful shade of hazel and by the fascinated look in them.

Finally they both closed their eyes.

"Uuuuh, you must be the watch-tcher!"

They both flinched and straightened themselves up immediately, scared by the male voice.

"Oops..." Then the voice got somewhat muffled. "George, I thought you said muggles couldn't hear us here..."

AN: O-kay. I promise, they'll get their first kiss, real soon :) And there should also be some more action later on

Review, comment, I know, not my best chapter here, I'm not very satisfied with the writing in this one, the wanna-be-romantic parts are a little lame... I somehow seemed to suffer more than usual under not being an English native speaker when trying to write those :)) I hope I'll improve with the time...

Is Giles still Giles, is he Giles-y enough, you think?