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Brought to Heaven	By : QueenB Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Giles Views: 9385 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The hotel was comfortable and not too pricey. In spite of her half-hearted protests that it would be cheaper to share one room, Giles had insisted on getting them two. She wasn’t sure how Giles stood for money and she was afraid to ask. She’d taken money from him once already since she’d come back from the dead; Buffy didn’t think she could accept anything else from him without getting major guilt trips over it.
She looked through the three cases she’d brought with her. Giles had been astounded that she would think such an enormous amount of luggage necessary for a three-day, two-night stay at the hotel but she had pointed out that they couldn’t spend the entire time museum-hopping. She wanted to walk along the streets, maybe go to a park and eat out at least once. For that she needed a change of clothes and quite a few pairs of shoes. He’d grumbled but seemed secretly pleased that she would think this trip important enough to merit such preparation.
Okay, what does one wear to a museum? Other than the occasional gallery opening that her mother had made her attend, Buffy didn’t know what to put on for ordinary days. Something comfortable, especially in footwear. Flats since I’m going to be doing a lot of walking from room to room. Museums tend to be air conditioned to the max so no light clothes.
She wrinkled her nose at the silk dress she’d brought with her on impulse. What was she thinking when she’d packed that? It was way too elegant for daywear and there was no way they were eating in a restaurant expensive enough to require such a fancy dress. But she hadn’t been able to resist the impulse that made her pack it. However, the Legion of Honor was a fairly ritzy place. Perhaps it wouldn’t seem too out of place.
Giving in to the idea before she could change her mind, she pulled the dress out of her case. Half an hour later, showered and changed with her hair artfully pulled up in a pin, she surveyed her reflection in the mirror with a frown.
This was not good at all. She was too thin and there were unattractive hollows under her eyes. She hadn’t really been taking care of herself or even noting how she looked since she’d clawed her way out of a grave. She briskly applied as much makeup as she dared without going overboard and bit her lip. She still looked underfed and no amount of blush could cover that. She just hoped Giles wouldn’t notice.
She started slightly as she heard a knock on her door. “Buffy? Are you ready? We should get there before the mid-afternoon rush.”
She smirked at the slightly anxious tone in his voice. People rushed to get to museums? Not likely. She opened the door ready to point this out to him and the smart quip died in her throat.
The Englishman was wearing a light green long-sleeved shirt with the top two buttons undone. The color brought out his eyes, making them seem like shining grass in a meadow. The garment fit without being tight and yet managed to outline his upper torso perfectly. Wow, muscly Giles. Giles with muscle? Of course Giles has muscle; how else was he able to train with me for so long? Don’t be a dope.
Resisting the urge to slap herself in the head, she took note of how the shirt was tucked into his slacks, a slightly darker green than the shirt and tapered over his lean hips. He looked positively yummy. Oh my god, did I just think of Giles as yummy? Settle down, Buffy. Relax and think of your breathing exercises. Remember to breathe. Breathing good. Drooling bad.
Giles for his part was stunned at the vision that met him at the door. Buffy was wearing a pink silk gown with tiny spaghetti straps and a sweetheart neckline that looked molded to her petite breasts. The waist was high allowing the rest of the gown to fall in a straight line down her body. An errant draft caused the knee-high hem to billow from her form and then fall back, clinging enticingly to her shapely legs. A pair of low-heeled strappy sandals were on her feet leaving her toes bare and exposing the pink polish on the nails.
“Buffy, you…” His voice trailed off and then he cleared his throat and began again. “You look absolutely amazing.”
She smoothed one hand nervously down the bodice. “Really? It’s not too much for a museum hike?”
He impulsively caught the hand and raised it to his lips. “No. Not too much at all.”
She blushed at the gesture and he watched, intrigued, as the red color passed over her face and down her neck. Realizing that his eyes were straying to places they shouldn’t, he dragged them back to her face and saw her eyes fixed on his. An indefinable emotion filled them and he found himself at a momentary loss as he tried to ascertain just what she was feeling. “Buffy? Are you quite all right?”
She blinked and the emotion was gone. Instead a plastic smile settled on her face and she replied, “Never better, Giles. Let’s beat that mid-afternoon rush, shall we?”
__________
Buffy chattered nervously, almost non-stop, during their perusal of the artwork. Giles’s words in the Magic Box still rankled and she was determined to show him that she wasn’t an ignorant schoolgirl. After a quarter hour of this, Giles gently interrupted her running spiel about the merits of a Manet over a Monet.
“Buffy, please. I want this to be a pleasant outing for us not another round of Watcher-teaching-his-Slayer.”
She lifted her head defiantly. “But you’re not teaching me. I’m Knowledge Girl here.”
“Really?” In spite of his last words to her, he felt the urge to test her. Spying a suitable challenge, he pointed at a painting by Bouguereau. “Can you tell me the details of that one?” There was a long moment of silence. When he turned with a smile to Buffy, certain he had stumped her, he was startled to catch a look of genuine pain frozen on her face.
Her throat worked and then she squeezed out, “A Soul Brought to Heaven, 1878.” She caught his look and whipped her face away so quickly he wondered why she didn’t get whiplash. He almost missed the muttered words that followed. “As if heaven’s anything like that.”
“What? Buffy, what was--”
“I hate that picture and I don’t think too much of old Bouguereau, either. He stuck way too many of those stupid winged kids in his pictures. What was up with that?”
“They’re called cherubs or the cherubim. They function primarily as guards or attendants to the divine throne. They were placed as armed guards at the entrance to the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve were banished.”
She raised her eyebrows at the precise explanation. “Hate to tell you this, Giles, but those kids don’t look as if they could defend themselves against flying donuts.”
The flippant reply made him smile. “Well, early painters like Bouguereau may have tampered with the image a little to present a comforting image, not to mention the fact that grounding in divine religious ethos wasn’t really part of their scholastic backgrounds. But what was that you said just now?”
She shrugged her shoulder in an exaggerated display of nonchalance. “Nothing. I just think it’s silly to think there are winged beings waiting around to escort people bodily to the Pearly Gates. It just doesn’t make sense.”
“He painted the image as a kind of catharsis. If you know anything of the history of this piece then you know that when he created it, Bouguereau was mourning the loss of his son Georges, his wife Nelly--”
“--and their baby William-Maurice.” She reached out and stroked the frame pensively. “I remember Mom telling me. She sounded so sad, you know? As if the painter were somebody she knew and the people who’d died were neighbors on our block instead of folks who kicked the bucket almost two centuries ago. That’s kinda why it stuck in my mind.”
Her hand dropped from the frame as if she couldn’t stand to talk about it any longer. “You know, I’m suddenly a little hungry. Does this museum have a café or somewhere visitors can eat?”
She was trying to change the subject and he knew it. But she was already moving away and he was reluctant to press the matter in so public an area. Buffy excused herself to go to the bathroom while he set about securing a table for them in the café.
__________
He ordered a hearty meal for them both but Buffy merely picked at her food. He had hoped this little excursion would help her open up, but the painting had dampened her spirits and all his attempts at conversation merely resulted in monosyllabic replies. Giving up the effort, he turned back to his repast of breast of chicken.
Gradually his attention was caught by an argument between two elderly women at another table. One was in blue peplum, the other a beige coat that she stubbornly refused to remove because of the draft.
“…and I’m telling you it was Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor in that movie! He was playing some kind of scholar in league with the devil and she was Helen of Troy,” the woman in the blue peplum snapped.
“Are you sure you’re not thinking about Cleopatra?” the other woman responded doubtfully. She pursed her lips while jabbing at her fruit salad.
The blue peplum lady rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Yes, I’m sure! He was Caesar in that one. I couldn’t make that kind of mistake. He plays a man who summons the devil because he wants to gain knowledge but what he doesn’t realize is the devil is leading him by the nose into his own damnation. The movie was called Faust like that opera by Gounod.”
Giles smiled at the woman’s gaffe and gently corrected her. “The movie was called Doctor Faustus, actually, based on the play by Christopher Marlowe. Burton played the titular role.”
The blue peplum gaped at him and then grinned in triumph at the other lady. “See! I told you.” She turned back to Giles gratefully. “Thank you, mister. That was so helpful. I suppose you know that because you’re English.”
Giles resisted the urge to laugh. Americans always assumed British people knew each other as if they all shared some weird kind of psychic connection. “No, I’ve seen the movie. I’m very fond of Richard Burton’s classically inclined films.”
The lady in the beige coat swallowed a piece of orange before replying. “What was a scholar doing talking to the devil anyway?”
“I told you, he was trying to gain forbidden knowledge. That’s why Adam and Eve ate that apple and landed us all in this mess,” the peplum smirked while waving her fork to indicate the world at large. “At one point he asks the devil--with this really long name--” She raised her eyebrows inquiringly in Giles’s direction.
“Mephistopheles.”
“Right. I never can remember that. Anyway, he asks him where hell is because he fancies it has some physical location that can actually be pinpointed on a map. As if that’s possible.”
Buffy gave a tiny snort at this assertion and raised her water glass to her lips. Fortunately the woman didn’t hear and continued blithely on with her explanation. “The devil replies that hell is everywhere. Because he and his fellow demons were once angels cast out of heaven and denied the face of god, he claimed that everywhere else is hell.”
There was a loud crash and Giles looked at Buffy to see that her glass had fallen onto the floor. Her face had turned deathly pale and she looked as if she were about to faint. “Buffy? Are you all right?”
“I-I’m…no, I’m not. Giles, I need to get…I have to get out of here. I have to--” Unable to say another word, she scrambled up from the table, blindly exiting the café. Worried that she might disappear, Giles called the waiter over and hurriedly paid for their unfinished meal.
The two startled women watched them go and then the one in blue turned to her companion. “Guess she’s not a Burton fan.”
Giles ran out to the top of the outside museum stairs and stared about helplessly. Buffy may have been badly shaken but she was fast on her feet and for a moment he’d thought he’d lost her. Then he saw a trail of pink silk peeking out from behind a museum pillar. He quietly rounded the column, wary of startling her.
He saw her sitting on the cold surface, heedless of her lovely dress, her head buried in her hands. He lowered himself to the floor beside her. He wanted to put his arm around her but wasn’t certain she would welcome the familiarity. “What is it? I know something’s wrong. Won’t you tell me, Buffy?”
The silence dragged out so long he feared she wouldn’t answer. “Is that true? I mean, it sounds…right, doesn’t it? That this would be hell for-for things forbidden to see God.”
He was baffled for about a second. Then the revelation hit him. “Oh good heavens.” This time he gave way to impulse and threw one arm around the thin shoulders.
She crumpled against his shirt and he looked down into her face. There weren’t the tears that he expected. Instead her eyes were opened wide as she stared sightlessly into the distance. He felt an awful fear when he saw that look; it was as if the vibrant Buffy of old had vanished and left a dead thing in its place.
“You didn’t tell me,” he murmured into her hair.
“I couldn’t tell anybody. I heard you yelling at Willow and I just knew you’d be so angry at her. And she really thought she was rescuing me, Giles. She thought I was in some hell dimension. It’s not like I could send her a postcard saying, ‘Hi, I’m in Heaven! Wish you were here!’”“
He winced at the gallows humor, so utterly lacking in real mirth. “This is my fault.”
She raised her head and stared at him in utter disbelief. “Your fault? Okay, so not seeing the logic of that. You’re the only one who’s not at fault here. Well, you, Dawn and Spike. But Dawn’s just so thrilled to have me back. At least she was at first. Now she just seems bent on making my life he--” She bit off the word and shrank into herself and he could feel her tiny frame shuddering.
“No, I saw how Willow was with her magicks. She was relying on them more and more and getting proficient with a speed that was frightening in one of her youth. I knew something was wrong there and I should have stayed to supervise her, steer her clear of the dark paths I foolishly tread when I was her age. But I left…and I believe she took advantage of my absence to perpetrate this act upon you.”
“She might have done it anyway, you know. It’s not like you could have watched her 24/7,” Buffy replied.
“Had I stayed, one of the others might have gotten severe misgivings, enough to come to me with her plan. I could have taken steps to prevent this. But I was gone and she talked them into this heinous act.”
“Heinous meaning evil, right? Okay, got that from the senior citizens back there.”
He let that pass for a moment. Then he asked, “So you think this is hell?”
“Not so much now.” The implications hung in the air and his breath caught as he considered what she might mean by it. Then she continued, “It’s just--everything is so overwhelmy. The colors are too bright and noises are too loud. Heaven was all of the warm and fuzzies with love everywhere and not an ugly thought to ruin anything. Then I get thrown back into the Hellmouth and all these jobs I thought I’d left behind including Dawn.” Her voice trembled and this time he did catch something like tears in it.
“That’s why I wanted to come out with you today. No household chores, no money worries, no Slayer/Watcher duties. Just you, me and pretty pictures on the wall. Just Buffy and Giles.”
His heart fluttered at the casual coupling of their names. “Yes. I’ve enjoyed it, too. It was a welcome break from the usual. Though I think we may have given those elderly ladies an unwarranted scare.”
Buffy looked ashamed. “Yikes. Then I ran off and left you with the check. You didn’t even get to finish eating.”
“Quite all right. I wasn’t particularly hungry.” He felt her shiver again and belatedly remembered the chilly surface they were seated on. “Perhaps we should get back to the hotel? We can continue talking there.”
She smiled at him through suspiciously bright eyes. “Yeah. I’ve had enough art viewing for today.” He stood up and extended his hand and Buffy let him pull her to her feet.
Their trip back to the hotel was rather quiet. They were each wrapped up in their own thoughts. Giles thought over and over again about what he would say to Willow. Regardless of Buffy’s wish to spare her friends’s feelings, they would have to know sooner or later the enormity of what they had done. Otherwise her continued distance would surely worry them. And Willow needed to deal with the consequences of her actions. He just had to make certain she didn’t try any more magic to fix an already fragile situation.
Buffy was glad Giles was with her. He accepted her explanation without pushing and she was grateful for his quiet steadying presence. Revealing her secret made it feel as if a terrible weight had been lifted from her chest. She wished she had told him before and yet was glad she’d been able to do so privately, without having to deal with the noisy, well-meaning interference from the others.
That’s my Giles. And he is my Giles. She frowned slightly at that notion. Okay, that was a bit of the possessive, wasn’t it? But it was true. She thought of Giles as being hers in a way she didn’t with the others. She snuck a sideways glance at him and noted once more the handsome, totally non-tweedy appearance and recalled her earlier thoughts of “yummy” Giles.
Oh boy, Buffy. So not the time to get lusty thoughts of Giles. This is Giles, for goodness sakes!
And what’s so wrong with Giles? The matter-of-fact tone of that answering thought was so startling, she blinked in confusion.
The silence from the young woman by his side was more than a little unnerving. Buffy had been so chatty in the museum and now she was eerily mute. He wondered what she was thinking but didn’t want to prod her unduly. Before either of them realized it, they were back at the hotel.
Buffy felt a momentary panic at going back to her empty room. She was basking in this newfound closeness with her Watcher and didn’t want it to end. “Giles, do you want to come in with me?” Appalled at how that sounded, she flushed crimson and stammered, “I-I mean, we kinda cut things short at the museum and we didn’t get to eat either and I’m so hungry. We could have that meal now and I’d really love the company.”
“I’d love to.” Giles tried to ignore the racing of his heart as he considered what meaning might lie behind the innocent request. He had agonized over his choice of clothing before taking her to the museum even while he inwardly scolded himself for his fanciful ideas. This was merely meant to be a pleasant outing, one designed to help Buffy recuperate from the strain of her resurrection. But he couldn’t help an absurd upsurge of hope even after all these years of disappointment.
__________
They settled themselves awkwardly on the hotel couch as they waited for room service and Buffy wondered where their easy comfort in each other’s company had gone. Giles appeared nervous about being with her as if the intimate setting was bothering him. Maybe he’d loosen up over the meal.
When the tray was brought in, she stared in dismay. There were large roast beef sandwiches on two plates, a sumptuous Caesar salad and what looked like a generous slab of devil’s food cake. “Golly, maybe I should have ordered lunch. Those sandwiches are the size of dinner plates. Heck, they could be dinner plates. Did they slaughter a cow apiece for them?”
“I thought since we missed lunch at the museum, we could make up for it here. You need to eat; you’re far too skinny for my liking,” Giles replied.
Damn. He had noticed. “Fine. But if my stomach starts grumbling from all this food, don’t complain to me.”
Giles lifted his sandwich in one hand and she watched as he took a man-sized bite out of it. Wow, he could really pack it away. For some reason, it was kind of cute to watch him enjoying his food. She hadn’t had the pleasure of actually eating with a man since Riley. When he’d swallowed his bite, she felt he wouldn’t mind talking to her now. “So…how were things in England?” There, that was a safe topic of conversation.
Sure enough, Giles seized on it eagerly. “Ah. Well, I used the time to get in touch with old friends. They were touchingly glad to see me after so long away. Naturally, most of them were unaware of my true role in Sunnydale so I had to gloss over a lot of the details. But it was good to see them again.”
“Who did you see, exactly?” Buffy braced herself to hear that Giles had picked up a girlfriend back in England and then wondered why the thought bothered her.
“There was Paul and his wife Eleanor. Paul was a friend I made at University after my Ripper days with Ethan were well and truly over. We became quite close before training at the Watcher’s Council took over my life. He’d started dating Eleanor just before I left for America. He’d recently extricated himself from a rotten relationship and I thought it was far too soon for him to be seeing other women. But he wouldn’t listen and charged straight in with Ellie anyway. I thought for certain the relationship was headed for disaster. But, wonder of wonders, they hit it off swimmingly and headed down the bridal path two years later. They’re expecting their third child now.”
Buffy heard the slightly wistful note in his voice. Strangely, she’d never once considered what Giles must have given up to be her Watcher. Other than telling her about his one-time dreams of being a grocer or fighter pilot, she hadn’t really gone into it. She decided that now was a perfect opportunity to make up for lost time.
“That’s great.” She paused as she considered her next question. “D-do you ever want one?”
Giles blinked at the question. “What? A child?”
She studied the carpet as she nibbled at the edges of her sandwich. “Yeah. I mean--you and Jenny were kinda close. It-it must have crossed your mind at least once.”
Giles set down his sandwich and folded his hands together. He felt the blind urge to polish his glasses again and resisted it because she was waiting for an answer. “I didn’t want children when I was young. That was natural, I suppose. I rebelled against my father’s wish for me to become a Watcher, indeed against everything the adult world seemed to offer. Getting a job, settling down with one person, rearing kids--what teenaged boy wants that?”
“And now?”
He raised his head and stared at her. Buffy was learning towards him, a bright stare trained on his face. She was genuinely interested in what he had to say and his heart warmed again. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d shown such curiosity about him. “Well, once I accepted my duties as a Watcher, I realized that my entire life would be devoted to one girl. I honestly didn’t see how I would have the time to form a personal relationship with any woman, much less settle down and have children.”
“But your dad was a Watcher, right? He had a kid. Why should it be so impossible for you?”
He sighed. It was going to be difficult letting Buffy in on all the sad, twisted details of his home life. “My father was a Watcher, yes. Because of his duties, he rarely saw me. I was closer to my mother than I was to him. I-I suffered from the typical teenage confusion wherein I both wanted his approval and resented his infrequent intrusions into my life. I saw how being a Watcher kept him from me, made him distant, clinical and remote.”
“Sorta like you were when we first met,” she pointed out.
“Yes, quite,” he dryly replied. “I didn’t want to wind up like that--a man devoted to his work and neglecting his children. Then I came to Sunnydale, met you and the others and life became an endless--”
“Party?” Buffy finished with a cheeky grin.
“I was going to say endless dance in averting the apocalypse,” he countered, smiling. My, that sounded almost like the old Buffy humor. It’s good to hear that. “So the possibility of having a wife and children became more unlikely with each passing year.”
The silence stretched out between them again until it became unbearable. Buffy whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Why? Sorry for what?”
“You could have had a life, a real life, if I hadn’t been your Slayer.”
“If you hadn’t been my Slayer, another would have been chosen and I would have been picked as her Watcher. That wouldn’t have changed,” Giles pointed out.
“Yes, it would have! You’d have gotten a Slayer who cared about her duties, who wouldn’t do stupid stuff like going to frat parties with snake-summoning college boys or sleep with vampires who lose their souls and start eating her friends!”
“I would have become Watcher to a Slayer who would have relied too much on books, lore and fighting, isolated herself from other people and avoided boys like the plague until she couldn’t talk coherently in their presence. I would have received a dispassionate fighting machine who doubtless would have gotten killed in her first year as a Slayer.”
She tilted her head as she thought that over. “Or you could have gotten Faith, psycho Slayer extraordinaire.”
“What a narrow escape. There for for the grace of God go I,” he replied in an ironic tone. He reached across the small space between them on the sofa and squeezed her hand. “Buffy, no one reaches my age without having a few regrets. Being your Watcher is not one of them.
She smiled and ducked her head. Blinking back an odd sting in her eyes, Buffy resumed eating. She felt a real appetite now and, under his approving gaze, managed to down the rest of her sandwich. She eyed the slice of cake with a doubtful look. “Giles, that looks really big. I’m not sure I can eat all of it.”
“We can share then.”
She brightened and picked up her fork. “I got dibs on the strawberry.”
They took turns, first her fork piercing the dark moist confection, then his. It really was a rich cake, the deep chocolate flavor enhanced by just a hint of alcohol. Brandy? Rum? Chocolate liqueur? Whatever it was, it was heavenly. She giggled at the notion and Giles raised his eyebrows at the noise. “Something funny?”
“I was just thinking. No chocolate cake in heaven. Not that I remember, anyway.” Buffy looked down to see the large strawberry speared on the tines of his fork. “Hey! I called it. That strawberry’s mine!”
He grinned mischievously. “I know. Open wide.” He held the fork up to her lips and she parted them and bit down on the crunchy morsel. Giles watched the tender lips consume the fruit and felt his breath come a little faster. There was something so intimate about sharing food and watching Buffy eat from his fork caused a return of the familiar desire.
Buffy closed her eyes in bliss as she chewed the delicate red fruit and opened her eyes to see Giles focusing on her mouth. She swallowed slowly and licked her lips as his eyes widened. She could see the green in his eyes darken with a hidden emotion and the brown flecks in them become clearer. Suddenly she felt no further desire to eat the rest of her lunch.
She shifted closer to Giles so their thighs almost touched and cleared her throat as she tried to speak. “I want you to know--I really missed you, Giles.”
He laid his arm across her shoulder and this time the gesture didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. “I missed you, too, Buffy. More than I can tell you.”
She raised her eyes to him and nearly fell into that bottomless green gaze. “No. I mean, I really missed you. All the others are there and doing their best to help me get back into the swing of things. They’re all trying just a little too hard to push me back into my old life. Whether I was in heaven or hell, I still feel like I need down time, me time, and they aren’t giving it to me. It’s like they’re waiting for me to be Buffy the Slayer and all-round fun gal again and I just can’t do that yet.” She drew a deep breath. “I just knew that if you were back, you’d help. Just by being there like you always are. Only you weren’t.”
He wanted to apologize again and then realized how absurd that was. It wasn’t his fault Willow and the others had chosen to exclude him. If he’d known what the wiccan intended, he would have stopped her--and no doubt gone home to England where he would have spent the rest of his life resisting the urges to drink himself into alcoholic stupors.
Buffy sighed, the soft sound interrupting his thoughts. She rested her head against his shoulder and whispered, “This is so wonderful.” Then she lifted her face to his and kissed him.
There was no hesitation in the gesture. He could tell it was sincere the moment her lips touched his. But the shock was so great, for a moment he couldn’t respond. But she remained pressed to him and, after a beat, he simply stopped thinking and returned the kiss.
His lips were feather-light as if he were afraid of breaking her. But when she wound her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer, he gave in and the embrace became clinging, the kiss deeper, as he parted his lips over hers.
Oh my. Giles can kiss. Giles can really kiss. This is me. This is me kissing Giles. WOW! She didn’t want to think about anything else. This was Giles and she wanted nothing more than to surrender to the moment. She licked at his mouth and ran the tip of her tongue across his upper teeth and behind to the sensitive palate.
He buried his fingers in his hair, the golden strands getting tangled. He wanted to pull out the offending pins so it would spill over her shoulders. Then a sense of the situation reasserted itself and he pulled back. Giles opened his eyes to see Buffy’s flushed face, the lipstick smeared over her panting lips. “Giles? What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”
“Buffy.” He pushed her away gently even as every fiber of his being screamed to draw her back. “I-I want to know…”
“Know what?”
“Why you’re doing this. What I mean is I’m not certain how you feel, what you feel--for me.”
“I told you. I missed you.”
Giles’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And that’s all? I missed you, too. But I didn’t bring you here just to take advantage of your unhappiness.”
“Hey, no taking advantage. This was me kissing you and you kissing back. Mutual advantage here.” She leaned forward again just to have him withdraw once more. A pang stabbed her. Didn’t he want her? Had she somehow mistaken the signs?
“Buffy, I can’t deny that I’m a-attracted to you. But I don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind. I’m sensing just a little bit of desperation mixed up with loneliness on your part. I brought you here to have you rest, away from the Hellmouth. I don’t want to burden you with a new entanglement of emotions you’re not ready to deal with just yet.”
She leaned back with a frustrated sigh. “What do you want me to say, Giles? That I want you? I do. I think I’ve made myself pretty clear on that point.”
He shook his head and ran his hand through his thinning hair. “No, I understand that part all too well. But I don’t want you to use me like some sort of, of, salve for your wounded feelings just to have you throw me aside and ignore me…” He clenched his jaw before he revealed too much and rested his forearms on his knees, his hands clamped together.
The golden-haired woman seated beside him gazed at him, startled at the pain she could detect in his voice. “Ignore you? Is that what you think I’ve been doing?”
He spoke in even tones as he tried to avoid blame or accusations. “When I first came back, you flew into my arms and I confess that was a truly joyful moment for me.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
“But since that moment, you’ve been holding me at a distance and I’ve been at a loss to know why. You seem to be avoiding me or speaking to me only for research or helping with your financial woes. You took off to see Angel with barely a word--”
“Is that it? You’re jealous about Angel? It’s over between him and me, Giles! We-we spent most of the time talking about him and his new life. He’s getting along just fine without me.” Her voice trailed away and her gaze became sad as if she was piqued at how her ex-lover had been able to carry on in spite of her absence.
“So you think you can use me as a substitute?” That came out much colder and harsher than he intended. He immediately regretted his words at the shocked and angry look on her face.
“You thought…? You’re not a stand-in for Angel, Giles. If that’s all I wanted I’d be with Spike,” Buffy spat out. She stood up, shoving the tray aside and paced around the living room. Her good mood destroyed, she wanted nothing more at the moment than to get away from Giles before she gave in to the urge to hit him.
“Buffy, please. I’m sorry. But you have to admit this is all just a bit confusing and sudden.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, too. I care about you, Giles. Maybe it is just the result of getting pulled away from eternal rest, I don’t know. But I’m not looking for rebound guys to dull the pain. I learned my lesson with Parker. I just--I’m not sure what I want at this point. Maybe I am more confusy Buffy than on-the-ball Buffy. But I know one thing. There is no Angel and me. He’s got his life, unlife, whatever. I’ve got…whatever I’ve got,” she finished. Okay, that was a lame exit line but she couldn’t whip up something suitably clever to say.
Giles stayed silent a long moment. In spite of the firmness that lay behind her words, he still sensed a certain ambivalence. She needed to sort this out on her own without his presence complicating the situation.
He spoke quietly without looking at her. “Perhaps you’ll feel better after you’ve rested.” He heaved himself to his feet and Buffy once more felt the urge to keep him close. It was as if she feared that he was about to take off and leave her at any moment.
She gritted her jaw and restrained herself from drawing him back. This was crazy. She’d never been this needy about Giles, not even in her early days as a Slayer. In fact, back then she’d been pretty determined to keep her distance from him. “Fine. You just--I guess I’ll call room service and have them clear away this stuff.”
He smiled stiffly and exited the room without another word. Oh, that went well. You are doing so great, Buffy. At this rate all your friends are going to leave you.
She stared out the window as the man busily piled on the y try trays and prepared to wheel the cart from the room. He paused and said, “Will that be all, miss?”
She started and refocused her eyes on him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess.” She chewed her lip for a moment and then blurted out, “Is there a good place to go dancing around here?”
To his credit, the man didn’t bat an eyelash. “If you’re talking about a bar with a dance floor, there’s the Flash on 20th. But if you like slower ballroom dancing, there’s the new Roseland. I’m bettin’ that ain’t exactly your thing, though,” he said as he eyed her.
“What do you mean, not my thing?” she retorted. Then she took a deep breath. [Hold on, Buffy. No need to get nasty with the nice man. He’s only trying to help.] Switching gears, she flashed him a smile. “Sorry. Thanks for the suggestion.” She wandered over to her purse and pulled out a wrinkled five-dollar bill. She handed it to him. “Can you tell me how I can get there?”
__________
Giles paced up and down in his hotel room, much like Buffy had done moments ago. He was regretting turning her away. He was certain that if he’d stayed they would even now be playing out one of the many fantasies involving his blonde Slayer he’d had running through his head for the last few years now.
He didn’t want to be alone when he could be with her. He’d been the one to suggest a little time with his Slayer. No, not the Slayer. She said it herself. She’s just Buffy now and she wants to be with me.
He loved her with all the strength of his heart and certainly not like the father figure her friends imagined him to be. But he hadn’t even come close to telling her about the true nature of his feelings just now. He’d only managed to convey his hurt pride and fear that she would use him.
Giles sighed and rested on the plush sofa. There was still a long evening stretched out ahead and his busy thoughts certainly wouldn’t allow him to sleep. Maybe he could watch a little telly instead. His disconsolate musings were interrupted by a timid knock on the door. Who could… “Buffy?”
She was standing there in an entirely new dress, this one of dark blue. He was surprised both at the new look and her reappearance. She hesitated for a brief moment as she clearly marshalled her courage. “The guy came to clear away the stuff after you left and I was thinking about what you said and--you can refuse if you want, no pressure or anything--anyway, I asked him where to go dancing around here and he mentioned this great place for dancing…”
He struggled to piece together her insane logic. He’d complain that she was using him--so she wanted to go out? “Dancing? You’re asking me to go dancing? With you?”
“Yes, with me. Unless you were thinking of taking somebody else.” She smiled and once more he relished the sight of her good humor.
“Ah, well. This is rather unexpected.”
“But not entirely unwanted, I hope?” She looked up at him with such a beseeching expression on her face, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
Well, you did want to spend more time with her. Say yes, you git! “No, of course not. I’d be delighted.” He let her wait while he got his coat and then extended his arm. He eyed her critically until she fidgeted.
“What? Is something wrong with my dress?” This one had a slightly plunging neckline and the diaphanous material was soft and delicate. It wasn’t quite see-through but it came close.
Dragging his eyes away from inappropriate places again, he answered in a voice that was a trifle too roughened. “N-no. But it might get colder later on. Don’t you want to get a coat?”
“You talk like mom used to,” Buffy answered. He darted a sharp look at her but her returning glance was teasing not reproachful. She didn’t see him as a parent and his heart soared.
“She showed good sense. I’ve always admired that in her.”
Buffy nodded, a serious thoughtful expression on her face. “I-I was thinking about her the other day…about how I didn’t appreciate her for all the things she did. How she was just there for me, before and after she knew about the slaying. She kept on nagging me to give it up at first. She was so goshdarned eager for Faith to take my place. She didn’t understand how it wasn’t just some job I could turn over to the new guy and I thought ‘Oh, mom, you so don’t get it.’
“But she was trying to keep me safe. I understand that now. I try to keep Dawn safe and she fights me on it just the way I did with mom. She keeps pestering me to take her Slaying and…” Buffy abruptly pulled herself up short. “You know what? This is what we weren’t going to talk about. Nothing about Slaying, Key sisters or dead mothers. Just you, me and some good old-fashioned fun.” She paused before the elevator doors and jabbed the “down” bottom.
“Buffy, there is nothing wrong with reminiscing about your mother. She was a fine woman and deserves every bit of your respect. Just because you and I are taking a break doesn’t mean you have to forget about loved ones.” Giles didn’t speak again for a moment or two and then he said softly, “Sometimes I miss her, too.”
She gave him a faint smile and he was all at once glad that they were going out again. The museum had been too serious an outing for her; it was time for her to have some fun.

TBC
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Brought to Heaven