Right. So this was supposed to be the last chapter, but it isn't. It got *way* too long. I hope having an additional chapter on the horizon isn't a bad thing! These guys had a lot of thinking to do, but there is still some pretty good stuff at the end of the chapter, if you know what I mean. Hope you guys enjoy it and don't mind waiting a little longer for the inevitable conclusion! The (hopefully) final chapter should be up within a week! :)

Disclaimers are still in effect. Spoilers for season 4 generally. Rating is M.

Brits Do It Better
Chapter 4

Buffy growled, pounding her fist into the fledgling vampire's face with far more violence and enthusiasm than strictly necessary. She had hoped that a few good slays would help her to channel and release the aggression and nebulous pent up energy she had been carrying around since her little spy session at Giles' window. Unfortunately, slaying just stoked her up with more adrenaline than she knew what to do with, and her mind was playing some seriously screwy tricks on her. All she could think about, it seemed- apart from her very basic need to hurt, maim, and annihilate- was Giles. Giles and the things he had been saying with that honey-dipped, rough and tumble, shockingly provocative voice…

With an inarticulate shout, Buffy drove the stake into the vampire's heart and watched him explode into a satisfying cloud of dust. The knowledge of a job well done kept her preoccupied for about five seconds, and then she was right back to thinking about it again. She gave an irritated sigh, plopping down onto a nearby park bench.

It wasn't the combination of Giles and sex in general that was giving her a problem. Contrary to popular belief, she didn't think her Watcher was a book with arms. They had all seen him kissing Miss Calendar that time in the library when they were still in high school. He had definitely looked like he knew what he was doing. Buffy had assumed the little butterflies she had felt in her stomach back then had simply been warm fuzzies from seeing something so sweet and effortlessly romantic. When she thought back on it now, though… maybe it had been a little bit of something else. Something in the way he had cradled Jenny's face, the way he seemed to be sheltering her smaller body with his own. Remembering the scene caused a mysterious increase in her heart rate.

And then there had been Olivia. Buffy looked down at her hands, remembering Giles in his robe and Olivia prancing around in his shirt. That embarrassing incident had happened months ago, but apparently it was still fresh enough for the Slayer to feel her sense of righteous indignation bubbling to the surface. Buffy's id, a part of her brain she had met in psychology class and which she was studiously ignoring at the moment, was screaming at her that indignation wasn't even the half of it. Buffy refused to let herself even think the 'J' word. She wasn't afraid of the green-eyed monster. Meet a monster, slay it. That was her philosophy. She only wished that she could stop her traitorous brain from skipping over the whole 'monster' thing and forging a direct connection between the word 'slay' and the word 'Olivia'.

That nagging sense of possessiveness she felt toward Giles was probably some kind of Watcher/Slayer thing, Buffy reasoned. They were kind of… connected. In a way that did not involve any lips or hands or… other extremities. Yes, that seemed to make sense. If she thought about it that way, her discombobulated feelings didn't have to mean anything wigsome or otherwise wrong. And she could still be enraged about the things Giles and Spike had been saying about her boyfriend and his… shortcomings.

So back to the issue at hand. Giles had violated her trust by talking- to Spike of all people- about her sex life. He had made dismissive remarks about Riley's performance in bed, a topic which he could not reasonably know anything about. So what if a few of his guesses were right? That didn't mean it was okay! And the other things he had said… how was she ever supposed to look him in the face again without thinking about the seductive portrait he had painted with such deliberate strokes?

Buffy shivered at the imagery, wishing she had thought of a better way to phrase that. Instead, she was left with vague notions of Giles and chocolate body paint.

If she didn't talk to him about this now, it was just going to flood her with unresolved tension and probably cause the recent rift in their relationship to widen irreparably. She really didn't want that. She cared about Giles. Needed him, even. It frightened Buffy to realize that, when it all came down to it, Giles was probably the most important man in her life- even on a list that included Xander and her father and Riley, who was supposed to have the place of honor in her heart. There was one major difference between Giles and Riley, apart from the fact that she was not romantically involved with her Watcher. The fact of the matter was, she could live without Riley. Live without Giles? She wasn't so sure.

And that was why she was now jogging toward the familiar apartment at three o'clock in the morning. Surely they could talk this out and move past it. Or she could yell at him for awhile and he could apologize. The only thing she couldn't do was let this slide past and keep her feelings bottled up. When they kept secrets from each other, one or both of them usually end up getting hurt. The confrontation might not be pretty, but at least it would all be out in the open.

Who knew? When all was said and done, maybe it would even bring them closer…

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Giles cringed slightly, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead as he finished fussing with the teapot. After a mere two and a half minutes of listening to Spike's version of the Buffy fantasy, he had kicked the vampire out of his house, ignoring his protests of needing to use Giles' microwave to warm up his mug of blood. The Watcher had already felt bad enough for having indulged in such a discussion without having to hear about Spike's intention to… Well, it was hardly even proper to remember it. Suffice it to say, it had involved a lot of spanking and an inordinate number of appearances by the phrase 'ram it in there'. Certainly not Giles' cup of tea for his evening entertainment. Speaking of which…

He picked up the tea things and went back to the living room. It was nearly three AM now, the vampire having departed several hours ago. Giles hardly considered it worthwhile to go to sleep, reasoning that he would only wake up with a giant hangover. He could torment himself perfectly well even if he remained awake, and possibly avoid the onset of a skull-splitting headache by ingesting enough fluids and engaging in general laziness and moping.

Moping, oh yes. Giles was feeling decidedly sulky. This whole debased evening had made him realize how badly damaged his relationship with Buffy really was. How had things gotten to this point? He had always thought that when she graduated high school and the status of their outward relationship- faculty member to student- changed, that their personal relationship could only improve. He had looked forward to a day when they could work together on equal terms, as two adults, hopefully even friends. And for a brief time that had seemed plausible.

Then, there had been the incident with Olivia.

Sipping his tea, Giles recollected the look on Buffy's face that day, her shock, her comments about his age. He also remembered what a complete imbecile he had acted like, telling her to go and solve her own problems like it was nothing new. He had been, admittedly, distracted by his own… affairs. Nevertheless, his dismissal of her had been inexcusable. The cost of his behavior, if he had cared to see it at the time, was quite evident in the obvious hurt her features had displayed. She had come to him for help and he had acquitted himself like the worst kind of hypocrite, telling her he was there for her and sending her away in the same breath.

Much to his chagrin, she had thereafter followed his misguided advice to the letter. Even after he took it back and apologized as earnestly as he could, reiterating his wish that she come to him whenever she needed to, she stayed stubbornly away. In a way, he resented the fact that she seemed to want to punish him for trying to have a personal life. That conviction fell flat in the end, however, because of how much he wanted her to be in it.

As far as Olivia was concerned, well, that would have been well and over even without any help from The Gentlemen. Liv had taken it in stride at first, having Buffy show up at the apartment unannounced, entering his flat without ceremony or a knock, with no explanation other than her status as his former student. Buffy wouldn't be mentioned for awhile, then Olivia would pop out with a random question about her at a time when Giles least expected it. This habit seemed to indicate that his connection to his Slayer, or his student who needed 'help' with her 'studies' as the case may have been laid before her, bothered Olivia a lot more than she let on. Giles had no doubt that even if it wasn't the entire reason for her decision to end what they had, it had likely been a contributing factor.

His dangerous life full of demons and monsters… and Buffy. The other woman, in whatever way. Just because he didn't have a romantic relationship with Buffy didn't mean he wasn't devoted to her, because even if he wasn't her Watcher anymore- God help him- devoted he was. And Olivia, despite her deep interest in him, had never been one to settle for second best.

And where had all of this landed him? He slumped down further into the armchair, tugging at his shirtsleeve to pull it up over his elbow. It had landed him lonely and half drunk in a sparsely lit apartment, feeling like a fool and trying to wipe the recent proliferation of indecent thoughts about Buffy out of his mind. For all the good it would do him.

He wished for a moment that he was brave enough to approach her in hopes of repairing their relationship. He missed her, he dimly realized. He wanted that closeness, the intangible bond that existed between them. Surely, there must be some way to make amends…

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She stood outside the door for a few moments, struggling. She could see the light still on, though it was quite faint. She hoped he was reading a book or drinking a cup of tea, rather than engaging in more… drunken activities. The first time she had come to his apartment to find him drunk had been one of the scariest moments up until that point in her young life. Just thinking about it made her want to punch Ethan Rayne all over again, for some reason. Giles' vulnerability that night, when he told her of Eyghon, had frightened her on some level. Probably because she was so used to him being the strong one, in many ways. Setting her mouth into a grim line, she reached for the doorknob, not sure of anything- including what the hell she was going to say.

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Giles looked up as the door opened and shut loudly, thinking at first that Spike must have returned. To his surprise, Buffy was making her way across the living room toward him with a determined looked fixed upon her face. Something must have happened, he thought, she looks like she's ready to kill. He sat up a little further in his seat, senses set on edge at the idea of a threat serious enough to bring her here in the middle of the night. "Buffy? What is it? Has something happened?"

She regarded him silently, crossing her arms over her chest. She was giving him a weird look. Giles felt slightly uncomfortable under the heat of her stare, unnerved by her open scrutiny. Her reply did nothing to allay his confusion. "You might say that."

Setting his teacup on the coffee table, he stood, tilting his head to one side and rubbing the back of his neck nervously with one hand. He took a couple slow steps toward Buffy. "Err… would you care to… explain?"

The innocent, comforting… Gilesness of his behavior made Buffy see red. How could he be acting so… normal after talking about her that way? "Sure," she began, uncrossing her arms and resting one clenched fist on her hip. Her eyes narrowed. "Should I give you the rundown before you bend me over the back of the couch and fuck me, or after?"

Giles froze. His mouth opened and closed involuntarily, attempting to form words. But how could he possibly formulate a reply to such a question? His eyebrows scrunched together, perplexed. What had she just asked him? Surely he must not have heard her correctly. Perhaps the alcohol and lack of sleep had made him delusional. "I… I'm sorry- what?"

Walking to the back of the couch, Buffy leaned against it. Propping herself up with both her hands, she looked toward the other side of the room. There was an awkward silence that stretched before her reply. When it came, it seemed oddly unrelated to her first bewildering statement. "It's been a little cold at night lately, hasn't it? You should reconsider leaving your windows open. Might let in a draft."

All the little wheels suddenly clicked together in the Watcher's slowly swimming brain. The entire night flashed before his eyes; Spike, the bottle of Scotch, the dirty conversation… the breeze through the open window. The. Open. Window. He now recognized her demeanor for what it was- thunderous anger. Oh, God. She had heard everything. He could tell.

Hanging his head in shame, Giles removed his glasses and deposited them on the desk. "Buffy, what you heard-"

"Oh, are you going to tell me about what I heard now, like I misunderstood? I think I'm pretty clear on most points. Gotta give you credit though- that part with the book cage was pretty creative."

He could see the hurt behind her eyes, which she was trying to cover up with a combination of rage and casual bravado. Sarcasm dripped from her words, and he couldn't even bring himself to feel insulted. He felt embarrassed and disgusted with himself, figuring he probably deserved whatever verbal assault she chose to aim at him.

"Forgive me," he whispered. "I- I didn't mean-"

Buffy released a mirthless chuckle. "Didn't mean what? All the insulting stuff you said about Riley, or the dirty talk about me?"

"Both, I suppose. Well, mostly, anyway."

He knew he had made a mistake by adding on that last bit. Her glare intensified, if that were possible. She took several steps toward him. Her sparking eyes held him, transfixed. There was anger, confusion, disappointment, and something else that Giles couldn't quite put his finger on. Probably nothing good, he reasoned.

"So you did mean at least some of it. Great. Wanna share which parts you were most honest about? I'm dying to know whether you really think Riley needs a GPS to find my clitoris. And did you get Spike's opinion on whether I'm a screamer or not? I must have missed that part."

A heavy sigh escaped him. "Buffy, please. I know I shouldn't have said those things, but you weren't meant to hear-"

"I wasn't meant to hear? Yeah, I guess not. Only you and your best pal Spike could be so lucky. Not that it matters. It's not like you have the guts to prove any of it."

He paused, digesting her last sentence. He was almost certain she couldn't realize what she had just said. "Excuse me? Prove-"

"You think you're so much better than Riley? So prove it." In a way, he was right. She didn't realize what she was saying. Buffy certainly hadn't planned this, but every time she opened up her mouth something even more outlandish seemed to fly out. There was something about those hopelessly intermingled concepts of Giles and sex that was causing her centers of common sense to do the wacky.

Her arms were crossed over her chest again, a defiant expression on her face. He could sense the tension in her, feel the pent up energy of a coiled spring radiating from her direction. His expression darkened slightly as he contemplated the seriousness of her challenge. He spoke quietly, regarding her with a steady gaze. "This is ridiculous."

She came another step closer, whispering harshly, "What's ridiculous about it? Our relationship is already messed up as it is. We might as well hash it all out."

Looking down at her, Giles swept the palm of his hand across his slightly stubbled cheek. He knew this little game was getting dangerous, but there were few options and probably even less choices that provided a safe escape. "This solves nothing. You're being childish."

"I'm being childish?" Her voice rose, she was nearly yelling now. "Great, so now I'm a child. One minute you want to have sex with me, the next you're trying to shove me back in the cradle? Sorry to tell you this Giles, but you don't get to have it both ways!"

"I can't-"

"Can't what? Can't make me scream? Can't do it better than Riley? Or maybe you just plain can't get it up."

"You really don't know what you're talking about." He stalked toward her threateningly, mouth set in a grim line, bright green Ripper stare fixed on her small but powerful figure. Unconsciously, she backed away with a few small steps. For a moment, he thought she was admitting defeat. After all, did she really know what she was saying? Their last chance to avoid the risky turn this situation had taken passed by in the following second, when Buffy repeated her challenge in a barely audible furious whisper.

"Yeah? So prove it."

In the next moment he was upon her, pushing her up against the wall and pinning both her arms above her head. Leaning in, Giles pressed his body against hers. He said nothing at first, looking into her eyes to gauge her reaction. She looked frightened, but also transfixed. "Is this what you want?" He squeezed her wrists with his large hands, emphasizing his play for control over the situation. "You want to see how far you can push me? Perhaps if you force me to do this, it will make it okay for you to use me and discard me in a similar manner. Not like you haven't tried that already."

Buffy's breath came in shallow gasps, her body enraptured by his. In spite of her superior strength, Giles had her absolutely at his mercy, taking her prisoner with the intensity of his reaction. She watched his face, the rapid circulation of thought behind the wild and darkening green of his eyes. She knew she was in trouble. Their relationship would probably never recover from this, and it was her fault for provoking him to this point. Rationality betrayed her now, her traitorous mouth gasping out the only response it could currently understand. "Do it."

The words were barely out of her mouth when his lips descended, crushing against hers, hot and demanding. The tension that had been holding her body rigid sluiced away, replaced by alarming tingles that weakened her legs and shot through her core. Dimly realizing that she still needed to breathe, Buffy opened her mouth reflexively to gasp for air. Giles took the initiative, sweeping his tongue into her mouth without hesitation. Her mind reeled frantically. She could taste tea, toothpaste, something a little spicy, and just a faint reminder of whiskey. The combination was so appropriate for Giles; safe on the surface, but complex and increasingly dangerous the further you looked in. The danger was definitely there now.

For his part, Giles was a little stunned by her reaction. He had been sure she would throw him across the room as soon as he made even the ghost of an advance, but she was so pliant under his grasp, mouth and body so willing to let him take control. The sweet taste of her left him in a barely rational state, especially when he felt her clever little tongue begin to stroke against his own. She probably didn't even know she was doing it. Rocking his body even closer to hers, knee between her legs, he changed his grip on her wrists so that he held both of them in one strong hand. His newly freed hand trailed down her cheek, fingers caressing her neck and collar bone, sweeping down her side to her waist and snaking between her back and the wall to pull her hard against him. His long fingers splayed across her lower back, bunching the fabric of her shirt and sneaking beneath it to touch her skin.

The sensations were so delicious. Buffy's eyes were closed, and she could feel every inch of Giles' body where it met hers. His pulsing heartbeat, the contours of his musculature as he tensed and relaxed. And above all, the searing heat of his kiss. The variations in pace and pressure and the tender and confident way his mouth caressed hers combined to drive her crazy. She felt his hand drag down the side of her body and slide around to envelop her waist. What was happening to them? These feelings… she never could have envisioned this. Her last ounce of control broke when his slightly rough fingers teased the skin under her shirt. A wistful, hungry moan erupted from her abdomen and vibrated into their kiss.

Hearing that sensual noise escaping from his Slayer brought Giles just far enough out of his trance to realize that this had probably gone far enough. Buffy was straining towards him, obviously lost in their kiss. The amazing little sound he had caused her to emit was almost certainly 'proof' enough to satisfy her. Maybe if they stopped now, their relationship could be salvaged. It was up to him be the responsible one, before he lost the last vestiges of his control. Which would be all too easy…

Giles ended the kiss abruptly, unable to resist the temptation to suck Buffy's bottom lip into his mouth and give it a last gentle bite. She gasped as he released her, taking a large step away.

For several moments she leaned heavily against the wall. Both parties were breathing erratically, regarding each other with trepidation. Buffy had a glazed expression on her face and straightened up rather slowly. He watched her silently as her mind worked on a reaction. For a moment, he was almost sure she would try to kiss him again. Instead, he found himself staggering slightly as her palm met his face in a powerful and well-targeted slap.

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Ha! Take that, Giles! How dare you kiss Buffy with such perfect, amazing skill? If that was her initial reaction, what do you suppose will happen next? Review with your guesses! The next chapter *should* be the last, and will be a direct continuation of this scene.

In the ever-growing saga of this fic, it has now gone to the prom with Rippertish, had a prom night dumpster baby with bloodydarkwolf, trawled the after parties with Blind Magdalene, and is currently primping for a day-after-the-prom double feature of waffles and a trip to the club with S.M. Hoffman. Who wants to meet us for our after club drunken 4am snack? And should we have pizza or falafels? ;)