"Spike said, well kinda sorta, um, implied..."
"Spike? Spike is tied up," the watcher informed the young blonde.
Buffy was quite firm when she said, "No, he isn't."
Giles reached for his discarded shirt.
"Well, then I better get him before he escapes," he stated, heading for the door with the shirt in his hand.
"No, no," the slayer retorted, holding him back by the arm.
Giles slowly turned to face her.
"He doesn't matter. I'm so glad that you're ok," the slayer told him.
Before Giles had proper time to react, she threw her think arms around his neck and gave him a long and affectionate hug.
"Um, yes..." the watcher began to put his arms around her.
Giles gently stroked the long, shiny hair of the emotional girl. Buffy finally released her hold, and he followed her example.
"Um, Buffy, to be frank with you. The whole...incident...has touched a, well, rather sensitive issue that I've been dealing with...fighting with for quite sometime," the watcher said nervously.
"Issue?" she asked with the usual cluelessness that she had such an effect on others.
"Perhaps issue is the wrong word. Feeling would be the most accurate."
The slayer smiled at him with affection.
"I know how you feel for me," Buffy said, her hand on Giles's face, her thumb grazing his lower lip gently.
"Yo-you do?" he inquired with uncertainity.
"Yes, I always have."
She let her hand fall from the face of the pensive watcher.
"Then why didn't you ever do anything? Say something to me, at least. Drop a subtle clue"
Giles asked her, a sort of quiet desperation in his eyes.
Downstairs Spike was in complete and utter agony. Just the thought of his beautiful Giles with that tramp drove him mad. The pale vampire paced back and forth and back and forth in the living room. It was useless. How could Giles resist her? No one could. It was the oldest story in the world. The teacher falling in love with his perfect creation. Spike had never been jealous of the slayer until now.
"He'll be off in no time having tea with his "fair lady". Bollocks. I'ne mad a bloody awful rhyme and pun in one sentence. That girl will be the death of me."
"I didn't think I was worthy," Buffy admitted.
"Not worthy? How could you believe such a thing?" the watcher asked shocked. "You're the bloody slayer!"
"No, not worthy as some legendary warrior," she said looking deep into his eyes. "As a person."
"Shhhhh. You mustn't say such things."
Spike decided that pacing was not helping the matter. Perhaps if he drank something, we would feel better. The vampire then became even further upset when he realized he could hardly consume blood in an agitated manner. He might get some on his shirt.
Buffy laid Giles down on the table and crawled up on it so she was straddling him. The slayer slowly began to remover her tight blue tank top exposing her upper half. She threw the shirt carelessly to the very dirty floor below. She lowered her head and kissed the watcher softly on the corner of his mouth.
Giles pulled her down to him, their hot bodies on top of each other.
Spike decided that a nice cold shower would be refreshing on a day as hot as this.
Perhaps it would take his mind off Giles. These were lies of course, the kind one
needs to lessen the blows enacted by the deep sorrow of truth. The vampire
undressed and stood under the shower head. The frigid wather fell on him, lightly
pitter-patting to the porclein beyond.
Buffy slid her hand down under his pants and fisted the watcher's hard cock. First,
slowly then faster, faster, faster.
Giles reached down and grabbed her hand.
"Are you going to guide me?" Buffy asked, squeezing his erection.
"No," he said firmly. "I'd like you to stop."
"What?" she inquired in disbelief.
"I said STOP!"