Chapter 31: Domesticity

"You're still dropping your shoulder, Buffy," Giles commented impatiently as he sidestepped her assault. "And telegraphing your attacks. Start again."

Buffy rolled her eyes and changed her stance. Earlier in the week, they'd talked about the tightness in her calf muscles and the shortness of breath walking up the hill at Prior Park College. She had chalked it up to not being able to keep a steady stride due to the terrain, and at the time Giles seemed to have let it go, but here they were training as though she were entering the Slayer Olympics. He'd even cracked open a brand new diary to record her physical progress. At first she thought it was sweet - as far as she knew the last entry he'd probably written was one chronicling her death - but after a few days it had become infuriating. Giles had become insufferable, particularly so when he would record her recovery time after training. He never seemed happy with that statistic.

She attacked him again, this time from a new stance. He blocked her blow and smacked her on her rear with his right hand as he passed her on the diagonal. "Dropped again."

They had been training for almost two hours, starting off with a thirty minute run and then back to the training room for some hand-to-hand sparring. Giles was frustrated, both with his lack of mobility with the splint on his left hand and with the way she continued to drop her shoulder. She'd had this problem off and on over the years, when she had been distracted by other issues, but gave him no indication that she might be bothered by something now. Things had been good between them since they'd moved into the house together.

"One more time, Buffy," he commanded in his Watcher's voice, stuffy and pompous. She hadn't really heard him use it since well before they blew up the high school.

The Slayer was frustrated and she didn't appreciate the mocking gesture when he hit her ass either. Just the thought of training had soured her mood over the past several days. Giles pushed her harder than she felt he needed to and he was all business. Whenever they trained in the past there had always been some give and take and bantering, but now he was impersonal, gruff, and in a foul mood. He would criticize and just expect her to be perfect every time and she was starting to resent this aspect of their life.

Feinting to her left, she immediately dropped to the ground and swept his legs out from underneath him. When he fell to the mat with a satisfying thud, Buffy jumped back up and walked away without offering him a hand up.

"That's more like it!" the Watcher roared triumphantly from his position prone on the floor. Getting up, he walked over to grab a towel from the cabinet in the corner and said, "Take your pulse, then grab a bottle of water."

"I know the drill," she responded icily. It didn't matter what the numbers came out to be, he'd just suck the air through his teeth and tut in that insanely English disapproving way. After finishing her water she took her pulse again, and true to form, Giles grimaced while illegibly scribbling the results into his diary. She wondered if he could even decipher his own right handed chicken scratch. With all his brain power, he probably just memorized it anyway.

As her irritation increased, the Slayer started to stretch out her muscles to cool down when she noticed her Watcher's brow furrow. Standing up she crossed the room, having finally had enough.

"If you have something to say, then say it!" she growled.

"You weren't even trying to correct the issues with dropping your shoulder were you?"

"Not after a while, no. I'm not into this gung-ho thing you've got going on here, Giles."

"Your recovery time is not consistent with your past performance, Buffy, and it's not improving as we continue our training."

"You sound like Maggie... bloody... Walsh!" she yelled, throwing in English profanity for effect.

Giles stood up, his anger on the rise. How dared she? "Oh don't you-"

"This isn't the Initiative! You're pushing and expecting drastic results in less than a week. Nothing is good enough!"

"Buffy!"

"I'm not one of those juiced up Initiative boys whose results change radically with every workout!"

"No, but you are the Slayer." In that exact moment, he sounded like the Watcher she met on her first day at Sunnydale High.

"No, I'm not the Slayer, Giles! I am a Slayer. One of many. And I'm not sixteen anymore! Hell, I'm not even twenty anymore. I'm well past my Slayer prime. And in case you've forgotten, I had a case of death a couple years ago!" she yelled in frustration.

"As if I could forget!" the riled Watcher retorted, looking as though he'd been slapped.

"How do we know what it's supposed to be like? Tell me. We haven't really trained since they brought me back. It was just 'back out in the field, Buffy.' And 'kill the vamps and the demons because they're out there and no-one else is doing it, Buffy.' Then you left, and when you came back, there was no time for training. We're in unchartered territory and I'm retired, so cut me some slack!" She picked up a towel and stormed out of the building, heading back to the house for a shower.

Giles watched her go as he ran his hand through his hair. She was right. It had been almost two years since he'd opened a Watcher's diary to track her training progress. He'd tried after she came back, but her training had been sporadic because she was so fragile emotionally. Perhaps he should have pushed more, gotten her into a routine. Perhaps then she would've faired better. God knows he'd regretted almost every other decision he'd made during that time in Sunnydale, so why not this?

XxXxXxX

Buffy tossed her clothes into the hamper in the master bathroom and turned on the water to as hot as it would go. She hated fighting with Giles but his training regimen left a lot to be desired. He'd given her no recourse. Every attempt to bring sanity back to their training sessions had been rebuffed. She'd had no further issues with shortness of breath or muscle fatigue and had felt perfectly fine since they'd started training again.

Stepping into the shower, she let the water stream over her head and shoulders. The heat felt good and started to erase the tension she was carrying. God, why did he have to create drama where there wasn't any?

This week with him at home had been wonderful. They'd gone shopping and she'd picked out new clothes, shoes, and accessories, and they'd chosen a few new items for the house together. Giles had told her that he wanted her to put her mark on it, to make it theirs. They'd also tended to the garden, pulling weeds, planting vegetables, herbs, and flowers that would repel any creepy crawlies that wanted to snack on their future harvest. Buffy had especially enjoyed their day trips out into the nearby towns of Bath and Wells. She loved exploring their surroundings with Giles, her very own personal tour guide and historian, and she could always count on him for at least one scandalous story for each place they visited or passed along the way.

But what she loved the most was the routine they were falling into. It was like a beautiful waltz, effortless and elegant in its simplicity. Waking up together, tending the horses in the mornings and evenings, riding the trails on the days they stayed home, making meals together in the kitchen, relaxing in the library together in the evenings, making love whenever and wherever they felt like, and always falling asleep in each others' arms. She sighed wistfully as she lathered the shampoo into her hair, starting to relax a little now.

Damn the training sessions. She wished she had just started going for runs and practicing the katas in the mid mornings after the chores were done instead of suggesting a more formal training routine. Giles would've joined her without ever thinking to open a diary... okay, maybe not, but at least she'd be dictating the pace of their workouts. Perhaps she would start doing them anyway in lieu of his insane training program. Just boycott the damned thing entirely.

XxXxXxXx

Giles cleaned up the training room and showered there. The building had been built to include bathing facilities since it didn't pay to walk across the property all sweaty in the middle of winter. No sense in catching one's death that way when there were so many other ways to go. Afterward, he visited the horses and fed and watered them before deciding that he would turn them out into the lower fields in the morning.

He tidied up the stable while thinking on his and Buffy's predicament. When she'd asked him to start training again, he hadn't been sure how to proceed. He hadn't really been her Watcher since her death, and when he'd returned to her with the potentials in tow he'd tried to act more as her advisor - though that hadn't gone over very well until the night before the big battle. Having recently promised himself that he would watch over her again, make sure she was safe, he'd come to the decision to separate the Watcher from the lover.

As he was leaving the stables, realization hit him squarely between the eyes and he pulled his glasses off in exasperation. "Oh, Giles, you..." He let the thought remain unfinished, unable to think of anything suitable. What a fool he'd been! He'd done to himself the one thing that Travers hadn't been able to make him do: separate his emotions from his duty. He'd been unable do so since the day he and Buffy met. He'd tried to remain impartial and set aside his affection for her during the Cruciamentum, having been bullied into performing the test by the former Head Watcher - and failed. Yet, he had done it here in the confines of their training regimen in their own home.

Buffy had never responded to the callous indifference the Council beat into novice Watchers while teaching them how to train their potential Slayers. Wyndam-Pryce had encountered her lackadaisical response to it, and Travers had experienced her full loathing in spades when he'd come to force her back beneath the Council's influence, withholding information on Glory for compliance. Now Giles was facing mutiny and he knew he well deserved it.

XxXxXxXx

It was late in the afternoon before he made it back to the house and he found her in the library curled up on the sofa under a blanket reading a magazine.

Having caught her eye as he approached, he offered her his apology, "I'm sorry, Buffy, I just-"

"Went into Watcher mode, I know. You're supposed to when we train," she said, putting down the magazine and moving her feet to allow him to sit next to her.

Taking his cue, he sat down beside her and she brought her blanketed feet back up to lay them across his lap. Turning towards her and lacing the fingers of his right hand with her left, he looked at them for a moment before taking a deep breath and bringing his focus back up to her.

"It was more extreme than that, love, and I am very sorry. We're partners and I had ignored that fact and acted like... well, not like your Watcher," he apologized. Then, lowering his voice, he continued, "I can't ever forget that you died, Buffy. Ever. That night will haunt me forever, watching you fall and having to carry your lifeless body back to the Magic Box. I know you chose to sacrifice yourself, but I can't help feeling that I had failed you. I couldn't find the answers. It was my duty to protect you. A-and now... I still want to protect you, perhaps even more so..." Letting go of her hand, he caressed her cheek and then brought his hand down to rest on her lap. "I want this life we are carving out together so very desperately and I'm afraid-"

"I know, and I'm sorry I blew up at you," the retired Slayer apologized, covering his hand with hers.

"No, you were right to, and you have a point. We can't expect you to be in the same shape you were three years ago, too much has happened since then," the chagrinned Watcher agreed with her argument from earlier.

"And the counterpoint is that I faced the First and lived. I'm not feeble."

"Hardly feeble," Giles agreed, moving his hand beneath her shirt to trace the scar on her side from when the Turok-han had impaled her, his eyes conveying his concern and ultimately, his fear.

Buffy moved to sit up on her knees and gazed into the watery green depths, "Hey, I am here. We're together. Always." She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him reassuringly. Resting her forehead against his, she added, "And recovery time improves over time, Ru. I'm not going to be the über Slayer anymore, but I'm certainly no slacker. We'll see what works for us, okay? And I'm going to have to stay in shape if I am going to train the young upstarts."

He leaned forward to kiss her again. "Young Slayers are tenacious with a lot to prove," the veteran Watcher counseled.

"I know you purposefully let me win a lot back in those days," she said, taking his lips again, her tongue darting out to tease his.

Breaking the kiss and moving his attentions to her neck, Giles murmured, "Mm-hmm, it was to boost your confidence and have you not see me as a threat."

She breathed in sharply, "It pissed me off, so I had to legitimately... mmmm... kick... yes... your... asssssss!" Buffy couldn't continue the banter while Giles sucked on her pulse point. Leaning back down into the cushions, he pulled her body on top of his.

Mouthing his way down to her collarbone, he continued, "And once we had gotten through the basics and I could show you... more advanced techniques, training improved for both of us."

"Less talking... more advanced techniques," the Slayer quipped as she ground against the bulge in his slacks, her breathing shallow.

Giles removed her shirt to find she wasn't wearing a bra and took a pebbled nipple in his mouth, nibbling, sucking, and teasing it with his tongue as she arched her back demanding more. Placing his hands on her hips he leaned forward and kissed his way back up to her neck.

"Please stand up, Buffy," he commanded softly.

It was this confident yet considerate voice she responded to, not the one of the dispassionate imperious Watcher he'd taken to using during training these past several days, and it was sexy. Having gotten up, she stood before him and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her sweats and panties, slowly removing them and keeping her eyes trained on his face as he watched her.

Darkened green eyes roamed her body and when she stood back up after stepping out of her clothes, he lifted himself up off the sofa, the fabric on the front of his trousers significantly tented. Circling her, he took a moment to admire his fiancée until he stopped behind her.

"You take my breath away," he murmured, placing his hands on her shoulders before leaning in and gently nipping at her earlobe. Dragging his right hand lightly down her arm and over her hip, Giles grinned at the tiny shivers coursing through her body as she responded to his touch.

Buffy turned in his embrace, seeking his lips in a desperate hunger, her hands fisting in his cotton Henley shirt as she pushed it up his torso. Prematurely ending the kiss, she shoved the offending material over his head and tossed it to the floor. When she latched onto his nipple, sucking and laving it with her tongue, Giles threw his head back and let out a groan.

Taking her head in his hands, he angled her face towards his and crushed his mouth to hers, shoving his tongue between her lips, invading, taking. Snaking his good hand around to the back of her head, he fisted it in her hair, holding her still.

Buffy loved it when he went all alpha male. She met his intensity as she raked her fingernails along the sides of his ribcage, down to the waistband of his trousers, allowing one hand to brush against his erection. He broke the kiss, moaning at her touch. Smiling devilishly at her lover, the Slayer moved to position herself on the couch, on her knees and leaning over the back.

Giles threw his glasses onto the coffee table and he ran his hand over her bottom, leaning over her and kissing upwards along her spine. Her skin was silky and he took in the smell of her new honeysuckle body wash mixing with her own scent. Buffy arched back into him when she felt his hand dip down, touching her intimately. She was so wet and they moaned together as he slid his fingers along her slit.

Placing both hands on her hips, he whispered into her ear, "I want to take you hard and fast," driving his point home as he thrust his trouser-clad erection against her. "Alright, love?"

"Please," she gasped.

Thankful he wore the pants with the snap instead of the button, Giles straightened up and quickly stripped off his remaining clothes. Positioning himself behind her, he guided his cock to her entrance and pushed himself in, closing his eyes to savor the feeling as he buried himself deep within her.

Leaning over her, he gently bit her earlobe and nibbled down her neck. Buffy let out a contented sound and started to rotate her hips, and the impatient Watcher needed no further encouragement. He grabbed her hips and moved his in a circle before starting to thrust, increasing the tempo with each pass and varying the angle, watching her push back against him to meet his every stroke.

"Touch yourself, Buffy, rub your clit for me."

His voice was full of need and she reached between her legs as he requested, roughly rubbing the engorged nub while he pounded into her from behind. She was close, her inner muscles starting to pulse against his shaft.

Throwing her head back, the Slayer let go, her body shuddering, milking his cock as she spasmed around him. Not wanting to lose control yet, Giles rode through her orgasm enjoying the way her inner walls surged against him with a fury, and he soon sent her over the edge again. Buffy's second orgasm was stronger than the first and he lost control at the intensity of it, roaring her name and gasping for breath, only moving to collapse next to her on the sofa when he felt his legs might give out beneath him.

Settling into his embrace, she kissed him softly. "That was amazing," she whispered against his lips.

"Every time is amazing," he answered with a tired smile.

"That's true," Buffy agreed. "Cuddle time?"

The sated Watcher yawned and nodded. Tossing the cushions from the sofa to make more room, Buffy picked the blanket up off the floor while Giles straightened himself out. She then curled up next to him and covered them up before they passed out in each others arms.

Giles woke several hours later to the muted tones of his mobile phone going off, finding himself pinned by his fiancée. Stretching out his right arm, he was able to reach his trousers and pull the phone out from the pocket without disturbing her.

"Giles here," he answered quietly. "Ah, uncle, how are you?"

Moving Buffy towards the inside of the couch, the disheveled Watcher put the phone to his ear and held it to his shoulder while he stood up and pulled on his pants. Leaning over to give her a kiss, he walked out of the room to continue the conversation.

When he rung off, he reentered the library and found Buffy sitting up underneath the blanket perusing her magazine again.

"That was Sebastian. He says to give you his love and he hopes you are well," Giles answered at her inquisitive look.

"And how is my favorite peer of the realm?" the irreverent American teased good-naturedly.

"Fairly well. It seems your dog misses you," he answered, giving her a kiss as he sat down next to her.

"Really?"

"Yes, it appears that Seamus is rather a nervous wreck without you at Greys Keep. He pines and paces, and flops himself down by the entrance forlornly awaiting your return."

"Aww, poor puppy. We'll need to visit soon," Buffy answered with a smile.

"Well, in a round about way, that's sort of what Sebastian was calling about. The members of the Board would like to inspect the estate at the end of this week."

"Okay, so we go. No big."

Giles smiled at her, thankful for her support, but it was clear he would rather face a horde of demons and it showed in his eyes. "We'll need to stay over a few nights. I need to go through the personal items and mark anything that isn't of value to us or the Council for auction."

"It's alright, Ru," the sympathetic blonde said, taking his hand. "I have a feeling it's going to take more than a couple days. Remember when we sorted through my mom's stuff? That took, like what, a week?"

Giles looked down at their joined hands. She was right. They had dealt with the gallery and her mother's personal items in just under a week, and she'd kept the house and all its contents. There was no way to compare the task before them to what they had gone through to settle her mother's affairs.

"Thank you," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a kiss to the back of it. "I'll make the arrangements. I was rather hoping to have a little more time to ourselves..."

Buffy smiled and moved her hand to gently stroke his cheek. "We have all the time in the world."