Double Date

Rippertish

Chapter 12: A Week at the Magic Box part 1

Monday: A Whirlwind of Preparations

It was Monday, two days after the movie night that left Buffy and Giles zinging from the fun and unorthodox night they had—along with the Sunday hangovers that reminded them just how wild things had gotten. Giles had walked Buffy home after the rain had settled, both of them clinging to the uninhibited freedom brought on by the alcohol, lingering under the night sky and reluctant to release the thrill of pretending to be anything but Watcher and Slayer.

But now, the Magic Box had become a hive of activity, filled with the familiar chaos that only the Scooby gang could create. After a small vampire brawl had resulted in minor damages to the shop the previous week, the place was in desperate need of repairs. Xander, ever the handyman, was stationed near the front, hammer in hand, patching up where a vamp had sent one of the shelves flying.

Buffy and Willow had both promised to spend any time they weren't in class helping to prepare. With Halloween fast approaching, they needed the shop fully stocked and ready for the weekend rush. Anya had taken charge of unpacking the decorations and Willow to sort through the Halloween-appropriate herbs. Even Oz dropped by to offer help, with his usual quiet presence.

The plan was simple but demanding: repair the damages, restock supplies, and transform the Magic Box into a bustling centre for all things spooky and magical. With extra hours planned for Saturday, it promised to be one of the busiest weeks they'd ever seen.

Buffy stood near the potion shelves, carefully arranging jars of herbs while stealing glances at Giles, who was at the front counter, brows furrowed, going through endless paperwork. She couldn't help but notice the way the lamplight highlighted the sharp lines of his face. A small smile tugged at her lips, but she quickly shook it off, trying to focus.

Giles, for his part, seemed completely engrossed in his work. When he did look up, their eyes met across the room. It was brief, an accidental meeting of gazes, but the air between them hummed with the memory of Saturday night and everything they hadn't said since. Buffy's stomach fluttered, and she quickly turned her attention back to the jars, fingers fumbling just slightly.

The day carried on, a blur of cleaning, reorganising, and laughter that masked the tension only Buffy and Giles seemed to feel. They worked tirelessly, their teamwork getting things done.

Buffy stood by the display of spell candles, her fingers drifting over the neatly arranged rows as she pretended to read the labels. Her mind was half on the conversation happening between Xander and Willow, and half on the growing sense of anticipation she felt whenever Giles was near.

Giles moved to stand beside her, his scent and warm presence making it hard to concentrate. Buffy reached for a slim, black candle, and his hand accidentally overlapped hers.

They paused, frozen in time. Neither pulled away. Hidden behind the rows of candles, their hands stayed together, unseen by the Scoobies on the other side of the room. Slowly, their fingers began to trace over each other, languid caresses that sent a shiver through Buffy.

Giles exhaled softly, and Buffy's gaze darted to his face. His lips were parted just enough to betray his struggle, his jaw tight and his eyes fixed on the candle, as though fighting to keep his reaction in check. Buffy turned her hand over, letting their fingers intertwine, and she felt the way his grip tightened around hers.

The need to touch, to connect, pulsed through their joined hands, an acknowledgment of everything they couldn't say.

But for that moment, hidden from view, they let themselves be together. It was a fleeting, secret connection in a day filled with noise and mundane responsibility. The thrill of it was exhilarating, and just when Buffy thought her heart couldn't beat any faster, Giles did something she hadn't expected. With a subtle, almost imperceptible movement of his fingers, he whispered a spell under his breath. The black candle flickered and burst into a small, steady flame.

Buffy's gaze shot to the candle, then back to Giles, her eyes wide with surprise and something close to wonder. He met her astonished look with a soft, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners. Before she could say anything, he gently squeezed her hand and then let go, stepping away calm and collected. She bit her lip to keep from grinning too widely as she returned to her task.

As she finally left the shop that evening, Buffy found her mind wandering back to the warmth of Giles' touch and the way the candle had flickered to life. It was such a small thing, yet it lingered in her mind—because Giles had always been reluctant to use magic lightly. It wasn't lost on her that he'd done it for her, and the thought made her feel… something. She tried to shake it off, but the memory stayed, a tiny spark of something new that she couldn't quite ignore.

Tuesday: Secluded

Tuesday morning arrived with a crisp chill in the air, the kind that promised fall was in full swing, and the Magic Box buzzed with renewed energy as the Scoobies dove into more preparations. Xander had managed to fix the broken shelves, grinning proudly as he surveyed his work. "Vamps beware: This baby's ready for anything," he boasted, earning a kiss on his cheek from Anya.

Buffy found herself in a quieter corner of the shop, balanced precariously on a small stool as she tried to reach a bottle of preserved potions on the top shelf. Her fingers grazed the glass, but it remained just out of reach. Suddenly, she felt the warm, solid presence of Giles step up behind her. His chest pressed lightly against her back, and his hands found her waist to keep her steady.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice soft and intimate, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

Buffy's heart raced at the warmth of his touch, and for a split second, she let herself lean into him, savouring the comfort and thrill of his nearness.

His grip on her waist stayed secure, grounding her as the moment grew charged. But then, a soft, ominous clink pulled them both back to reality. Giles' eyes darted to the shelf just in time to see a bottle wobble dangerously at the edge, jarred loose, likely from an accidental bump to the shelf.

Panic flashed between them as they watched, wide-eyed. The bottle, far beyond their reach, tipped, teetered, and began a slow-motion descent toward the floor. The dark liquid inside sloshed, promising untold magical chaos when the glass shattered.

Just as disaster seemed inevitable, Oz strolled past, moving with his usual laid-back ease. Without breaking his stride, he caught the bottle mid-air with one smooth motion, cradling it as though this sort of thing happened every day. He glanced at the label, then at Buffy and Giles, an amused flicker lighting up his usual serene expression.

"'Spontaneous Combustion Potion,'" Oz read aloud, his tone casual. He gave them a knowing smile, "Fireworks!" He said before wandering off.

Buffy and Giles remained frozen, still caught in the shock. Giles cleared his throat, his hands reluctantly sliding from her waist as they both scrambled to regain a semblance of professionalism. "Right," he said, his voice a bit strained. "B-Back to work."

Buffy bit her lip to hide a grin, adjusting her stance on the stool. "Uh, yeah, work." She couldn't help but notice the flush creeping up his neck as he walked away, and she hoped her own blush wasn't too obvious. As Giles walked away, still flushed, Buffy found herself wondering how many more of these almost-moments they could share before something—anything—gave way. But with another long day ahead, she pushed the thought aside, at least for now.

Wednesday: The Tease

Wednesday arrived with even more chaos, the Magic Box now bursting with Halloween spirit. The main table had become a battlefield of products, price mark-up stickers, and an explosion of decorations.

Xander leaned in, working on applying price tags to an alarming number of miniature skulls, while launching into an impassioned rant about the merits of classic horror movies. "I'm telling you," he declared, waving a price tag gun for emphasis, "Nightmare on Elm Street is the gold standard of horror. Freddy Krueger is terrifying, and somehow he manages to be stylish. Name another villain who can pull off that hat and sweater combo."

Willow, rolling her eyes as she sorted the gummy eyeball candies, argued, "The Witches of Eastwick is genius. It's got magic, humour, and Cher. You can't argue with Cher, Xander."

Buffy sat across from Giles, pretending to be invested in the debate as she fiddled with paper bats, but her attention kept drifting toward her Watcher. Her chin rested on her hand, and her gaze wandered over to Giles, who was attempting to decipher a set of confusing inventory notes with his usual intense focus. An idea struck her, a mischievous grin curving her lips.

She slid her foot under the table and nudged Giles' ankle. His head shot up, his eyes narrowing in confusion and then softening with curiosity as he tried to assess her innocent expression. Buffy smiled sweetly, like a Slayer with no ulterior motives whatsoever.

Before he could react, she slowly, excruciatingly dragged her foot up his leg. Her touch was light, teasing, and utterly distracting. Giles' fingers tightened on the inventory sheet, crumpling the paper slightly. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep his composure, but his face betrayed a hint of panic. His jaw clenched, and he let out a small, strangled cough that made Buffy's grin widen.

Xander paused his rant, looking over with concern. "You okay there, G-Man? Those inventory numbers didn't bite, did they?"

Giles cleared his throat, doing his best to sound unruffled. "Perfectly fine," he replied, his voice just a touch higher than usual. "Just… dust." He shot Buffy a pointed look, but she simply batted her eyelashes, the picture of innocence.

Anya's voice broke in. "People will pay anything for spooky nonsense," she announced, slapping a $12.99 tag on a glow-in-the-dark crystal ball. Meanwhile, Willow and Xander's debate grew louder, their arguments devolving into a hilarious mix of pop culture references and increasingly silly points.

The whole time, Buffy and Giles carried on their silent, dangerous little game under the table. Giles tried valiantly to keep his composure, but every time Buffy's foot moved, he had to fight back a reaction. His ears turned a shade of red, and his eyes kept darting to hers, full of warning and something else.

Despite the complete madness going on around them, the tension was undeniable, thrilling, and deliciously dangerous, and neither of them seemed willing to be the first to pull away. As the day wound down, Buffy couldn't help but wonder, with her mind still spinning and a flutter of anticipation coiling in her stomach from their playful encounter, just what the next days would bring—and if they would ever cross that line… again.

End of part 1 (Week at the Magic box)