Double Date

Rippertish

Chapter 13: A Week at the Magic Box part 2

Thursday: Tender Care

Thursday found the Scoobies in the back of the Magic Box, engaged in hectic diligence. Xander and Anya were attempting to alphabetise the shelves—a task that, who knew, could be wildly open to interpretation. Nearby, Willow and Oz brewed potions with an array of herbs and small bottles, the room filled with the earthy, aromatic scent of their work.

Meanwhile, at the front of the shop, Giles sat at the main table, surrounded by stacks of books and mystical artefacts, working on cataloguing the new arrivals. He paused, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples, trying to ease the throbbing headache that had settled in from the relentless stress of the week.

From across the room, Buffy caught sight of his strained expression, her heart clenching at the weariness etched on his face. Without a second thought, she crossed the room and stopped beside him. Her hand moved on instinct, gently brushing against his, and he flinched slightly, startled out of his haze.

"Giles," she said softly, her voice full of concern, her eyes searching his.

He looked up, a bit surprised, his eyes scrunching slightly in discomfort.

"It's just a bit of a headache," he said, attempting a dismissive tone, though his fingers stayed pressed firmly against his temple, betraying the severity of the pain. Buffy frowned, unconvinced, her concern deepening as she watched him struggle to maintain his composure.

"Let me help," she insisted, her voice gentle but firm. His brows drew together, his usual instinct to resist showing any vulnerability surfacing. "Buffy, really, there's no need," he started, but she tilted her head, giving him a look that was as tender as it was determined.

"Just let me try," she said, her voice coaxing but warm. There was a beat of hesitation, and then, perhaps too tired to argue, he nodded reluctantly, though his posture remained stiff.

Buffy stepped behind him, her fingers lightly brushing his hairline as she rested her hands on his temples. She began gently, using her thumbs to massage the tension there, easing the pressure he had been trying to fight off all day. Giles' initial reluctance melted away as she worked, his rigid shoulders gradually loosening, and he let out a soft, involuntary exhale. Buffy smiled, her heart softening at how much he needed this.

"There," she murmured, her fingers circling slowly, "just relax." She felt him do just that, the tension in his jaw easing as she continued the soothing motions. She paused for a moment, gently slipping his glasses off and placing them carefully on the table. Her hands moved with care, sliding down to his shoulders. As she pressed into the knots there, she felt him lean into her touch, the defences he always held up slipping further away.

Buffy's hands paused for a moment, hovering over the muscles of his neck. Something shifted in the air between them, the energy sparking with an unexpected heat. She swallowed, her fingers trembling slightly before she steeled herself and pressed on, letting her touch become a bit more sensual, more lingering.

Her hands glided over the curve of his neck, kneading the taut muscles. Her fingertips drifted lower, sliding over his shoulders, drawing out a shiver as she moved, before trailing down his arms, grazing the sensitive skin at his elbows with a featherlight caress. Buffy leaned in, her chest pressing gently on his back. Giles' breath caught, his chest rising and falling a bit more heavily. Buffy noticed, and her pulse sped up. The air was thick with something more than just relaxation now, something that made her skin tingle.

She moved back up to his scalp, running her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching lightly in a way that sent perceptible shivers through him. He let out a low, barely audible groan, the sound vulnerable and raw. It sent a thrill through her, her body reacting to the intimacy of the moment. Her hands drifted lower, massaging the base of his neck, her touch slowing, almost caressing.

Giles swallowed, his hands tightening over the table. "Buffy," he whispered, her name more breath than voice. Buffy's fingers hesitated for a moment, her heart racing, and she realised how close they had drifted to something more than just a massage.

She leaned forward, her breath ghosting over his ear. "Feel a little better?" she asked, her voice huskier than she meant for it to be. Giles' eyes flickered open, his gaze meeting hers in the reflection of a nearby glass case. His pupils were blown wide, and there was a flush rising on the base of his neck, a reaction he couldn't hide.

"Yes," he murmured, his voice rough. The moment hung between them, charged and heavy, and Buffy's hands lingered on his shoulders, neither of them willing to pull away. But just as the tension seemed ready to snap, a burst of laughter from the back of the shop broke the spell, and they both pulled back, breathing heavily.

Giles fumbled for his glasses on the table, slipping them on as Buffy stepped back, her cheeks flushed. They exchanged a quick, almost guilty smile and just as Buffy was about to return to her task, Oz emerged from the back of the shop.

"Hey, Giles," he began, his voice casual, as if he were about to ask something important. But he stopped mid-sentence, his eyes flicking between Buffy and Giles. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly, as if catching an unfamiliar scent, and his brows raised ever so slightly. The charged, aroused energy still hung thick in the air, impossible for someone like Oz to miss.

He paused, the briefest spark of understanding lighting his normally impassive features. The corners of his mouth twitched, and his gaze shifted to Giles, who was now staring at him with a look that could only be described as mortified.

Oz's expression didn't change much, but he gave the faintest, almost amused smile. He took a slow step back. "Never mind," he said smoothly, spinning on his heel with effortless cool, and retreating back the way he came.

Giles let out a long, resigned sigh, his face now a deep shade of red as he removed his glasses and buried his face in his hands, groaning inwardly. Buffy pressed her lips together, fighting to contain her laughter, her eyes dancing with amusement.

As the day drew to a close, Buffy found herself wondering how long they could keep skirting around the growing tension between them, and if tomorrow would bring more of the same delicious thrill.

Friday: Whispered Desires

The Magic Box held a quiet, almost suspicious energy on Friday, like the calm before a storm, the atmosphere humming with anticipation for the Halloween weekend.

Xander and Willow worked in the back, laughing and joking as they untangled enchanted jack-o'-lanterns that lit up and let out ghostly chuckles. Anya was focused on rearranging the display of protective charms, her brow furrowed in concentration. Oz was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

Buffy sat at the large table, her fingers sorting through a row of delicate crystals, though her mind was anywhere but on her task. The crystals glinted under the shop's lighting, catching her attention only until she felt Giles' presence behind her. His hands settled on the table, either side of her, bracketing her in, just enough to make her hyper-aware of how close he was.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear, and her pulse jumped. His voice was a soft murmur, deep and intimate, threading through her senses and making her whole body tense. ""I've been thinking about you," he began. "what I might do... if only we had a bit more privacy."

Buffy's breath caught, and her grip tightened reflexively on the crystal in her hand. Giles continued, his lips so close to her ear that she felt every word. "If we were alone... I'd start by touching you right here." His fingertips brushed over her wrist, tracing the delicate skin, and even though he didn't actually touch her, she could almost feel it.

"I'd slide my fingers up your arm," he said, his voice deepening, "slowly, so I could feel your skin under my touch." Her breath came out in a shaky exhale, and she closed her eyes, letting his words envelop her. "Up to your shoulder," he murmured, "before moving down your side, feeling the curve of your waist, lingering there… exploring every inch."

His voice was soft but firm, and Buffy felt a rush of heat course through her. Her entire body was hyper-aware of the fantasy he was spinning, each word painting vivid images in her mind. "And then," he continued, "I'd let my hand slide lower, down over your hips, until I could feel the softness of your thighs."

Buffy's thighs clenched together, a wave of desire pooling low. Giles' voice dropped further, becoming slightly hoarse with restraint intensity. "I'd slip my hand beneath your skirt," he said, and she could practically feel his fingers trailing up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, inching higher. "Touch you right there," he whispered, the suggestion sending a shiver through her.

Her breath came out in a shaky gasp, her cheeks flushing as his fantasy grew more explicit. "I'd take my time," he said, his voice filled with longing. "Tease you until you were trembling, feeling the way your body responds, how you'd move so beautifully under my touch."

Buffy couldn't move, couldn't breathe, her body on fire with want. The world around them had melted away, leaving only Giles' voice and the way he was making her feel. "And then, I'd lift you up and prop you right here." His fingers flexed on the wooden surface, and she could almost imagine his hands guiding her. "I'd have you put your hands on the table."

Her breath was shallow, her heart racing as he described every detail. "I'd push up your skirt, and unhurriedly slide into you." His breath grew heavier.

Buffy trembled, her body reacting to his words. Her knuckles whitened around the crystal in her hand as the ache inside her grew overwhelming. The tension between them was almost suffocating, and she could feel her self-control slipping. Giles lingered, his own breath noticeably unsteady.

He swallowed, before continuing, "I would—"

"Giles?" Willow's voice travelled from the back of the shop, cutting him off mid-sentence. Both Buffy and Giles startled, pulling apart abruptly.

He quickly straightened as Willow approached, holding a couple of potion bottles in her hands, her brow furrowed. "I need your help with these ingredients," she said, nodding to the labels. "Are these for the protective wards, or did you want these used in the spell preparations for tomorrow?"

Giles turned, face still flushed, trying to collect himself. "Ah, yes," he stammered, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses, though his hands still trembled slightly. He looked disoriented, and Buffy could feel the same dizziness coursing through her.

Standing abruptly, Buffy stepped in and forced a casual smile. "Hold that thought, Will," she said, trying to sound breezy, though there was a hint of urgency in her voice. "I need Giles for something. Something very Watcher-Slayery."

Willow blinked, momentarily surprised, but she didn't protest. She nodded slowly. "Um, okay," she said, stepping back, looking puzzled.

Buffy turned back to Giles, who still seemed dazed. "Come on," she prompted. Placing her hand lightly on his back, she applied gentle pressure, urging him to move.

He glanced at her, eyes wide in confusion, but allowed himself to be guided. Buffy's hands urged him on, and he stumbled slightly, moving on autopilot as she steered him towards the training room.

"Be right back, Will!" Buffy called over her shoulder.

She pushed the door open and nudged Giles inside, the door clicking shut behind them. Giles blinked, clearly startled, and Buffy backed him up a few steps until he stumbled against a desk in the corner. He barely had time to catch his breath before she closed the distance between them, one hand gripping the back of his neck and the other fisting the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss.

'Bugger me,' his mind reeled, utterly dazed, swept away by the overwhelming sensation of her lips moving fiercely against his, stealing his breath and any coherent thought he might have had. Her strength, her intensity—everything about her at that moment—left him stunned and, God help him, craving more.

Her mouth claimed his with a confidence that made his head spin, but he managed to respond, his hands hesitating before finding her waist. His fingers tightened instinctively, drawing her closer, as he surrendered to the heat coursing between them.

The kiss deepened, and Giles felt himself pulling her between his parted legs, his last shred of restraint slipping. But just as he was about to let go completely, Buffy pulled away, leaving him breathless and disoriented.

She stepped back, her chest heaving, lips slightly swollen. "Well, that was a detour... Now... back to Willow," she said, her voice a little breathless but managing to sound casual.

Giles stared at her, still dazed, his mouth opening as if he were about to say something, but the words failed him. She smirked, with genuine amusement at how thoroughly she had rattled him. 'Guess that's only fair,' she mused.

Buffy turned and walked towards the door, leaving Giles slumped against the desk, completely stunned and aching for more.

As she stepped out of the training room, Buffy kept her expression composed, even as her heart raced in her chest. She threw a casual look over her shoulder. "You coming, Giles?"

Giles straightened, still looking like a man who'd been swept out to sea, and swallowed hard. "Yes," he managed, his voice rough, "of course."

He smothered his shirt, his mind swirling. 'Dear lord', he thought, taking a steadying breath, 'this impossible woman meets fire with flames.' The calm, rational part of him urged restraint, but he could feel his resolve slipping, every shared moment drawing him in further.

He had told himself he could keep his distance, keep things casual between them. And yet… here he was, his heart racing like a schoolboy's, eager and smitten. This was no fleeting crush; he felt now he was firmly caught in her orbit. And, God help him, he wasn't sure he wanted to pull away.

End of part 2 (A Week at the Magic Box)