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What a Mother Wouldn't Do	By : QueenB Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Giles Views: 5213 -:- 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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“So what do you want, Anya?” Xander sighed.
“You know very well what I want. I wish these last two years had never happened. I wish that you’d grow a spine and not another one like a Drelkian beast to hold your wings. I’m talking about one that would make you grow up and stop behaving like a stupid boy.”
“At least I’d be a stupid human boy instead of a stupid ex-demon who only hangs around because she likes money and sex,” Xander sniped.
“Don’t sneer at the money. It’s terrific and I can always buy sex. They say money can buy anything in the human world and they’re pretty much right. Besides, I helped you last year with Willow, didn’t I? We weren’t together then, were we, and I was a hell of a lot more help than you were.”
“In between getting knocked unconscious, standing by while Willow sucked magic out of the books and helping her escape from Giles’s magic ring of doom? Yeah, Buffy told me about your help, Anya. I’m the one who finally stopped her so I wouldn’t bang that drum too much if I were you.”
Xander paced up and down in the space that was feeling narrower by the minute, wondering how much longer he’d have to endure this. This was worse than when he’d gotten stuck in the Summers basement with Cordelia. Sure, there had been prior bad blood between him and the May Queen. But at least it hadn’t involved actually bloodshed…and Queen C hadn’t been a vicious vengeance demon that’d slept with Spike.
If only there was something to do or read to pass the time. But the crate Giles had used to trick him into this get-together with his ex had nothing in it but a large locked trunk. Even if he had the key, Xander suspected that it held nothing but boring books on demons. It looked like he and Anya were stuck with each other.
Right now she was pressed against the door trying vainly to listen. “I wish I could hear something. The bell from the door, the cash register ringing--anything. God knows what that stuffy Englishman is doing. I’m sure the store is losing money every moment I’m trapped in here.”
“And we’re back to Anya’s favorite subject--money.” Xander sighed and sat on the benches again.
“Don’t forget the other one--vengeance.” Anya squinched up her face only belatedly remembering she couldn’t shift into her demonic countenance.
“By no means, let’s not forget that,” he muttered, unimpressed. “I’m sure Willow hasn’t forgotten it either.” His return glance was no less meaningful than hers and Anya averted her eyes. Willow had thoroughly kicked her ass during their encounters at the Magic Box and the Sunnydale prison. She was lucky the enraged wiccan had been more interested in fighting Giles and Buffy than herself.
“That’s no help for you, mister,” she retorted, hoping to regain her advantage. “She’s on the other side of this door and I’m in here with you. Even without demonic strength, I still know magic. Just ask Olaf.”
“But you won’t be in here forever so I’d better walk out of here with all my parts intact if you know what’s good for you.” Xander pulled himself up short. “Geez, Anya, is this what we’ve been reduced to? Making nasty threats to each other? This is exactly why I didn’t want to get married. We sound just like my parents!” He buried his hands in his hair and rumpled it agitatedly, the dark strands standing up in clumps.
Anya stared at him. She hadn’t known Xander felt that way. True, she’d been subjected to the awfulness of his family in the weeks before the wedding-that-wasn’t and agreed about how thoroughly repellant they were, especially those parents of his. But she hadn’t realized Xander had those kinds of insecurities about their future. He’d never confided what he’d seen in Stewart’s magic crystal; he’d only stared past her shoulder at something unseen and run out on her. “We do not sound like your rotten parents. We’re arguing not getting drunk or throwing things.”
“Not yet,” he replied meaningfully. “But we’ve started with insults and accusations so it’s just a matter of time. We’re lucky we haven’t begun pulling each other’s hair.”
“It’s not an insult if it’s true,” she shot back. “You acted like a frightened little boy at our wedding, Xander Harris. If you had problems we should have discussed them first. Waiting until we were standing at the altar is definitely not the time to get cold feet and decide ‘Oh, I don’t want to get married after all so I’ll ditch my would-be bride at the altar in front of all our family and friends.’ “
“Well, getting groin-y with a killer demon just to let off some steam isn’t the best way to patch things up, is it? In fact, sex really doesn’t solve any problems. I would have thought you realized that the first time we had sex in my parents’s basement.”
“I didn’t notice you complaining afterwards,” Anya smirked.
“I noticed you did. You thought it would help you get over me and it didn’t. You’d think you’d have known better from being around 1,100 years and counting. Guess you learned as little about women as you did about men. It takes more than sex to keep people together, Anya. Unless that’s the only thing we had going for us.”
Anya couldn’t bear it when Xander looked so sad. He was always so sunny and upbeat. Even thought she knew some of it was an act he put on for his friends to hide the badness that was his home life, she had been drawn to his genuine good nature. He reminded her of a Blassturian slug she’d met years ago. The slug hadn’t been that great in bed but he’d had a roaring good sense of humor that had her laughing until she cried. He was one of the few males she knew that she would count as a decent person.
She sat next to Xander and patted him on the shoulder. “There there, ho--Xander. Our relationship was more than the sex. You have a sweet smile and a very nice body and you’re extremely kind and make good money. You were the first one in your group to think of me as a person and not just an ex-demon. That made you very special to me.”
“So it was about money, sex and the way I made you feel? Gosh, Anya, that makes me feel so special. No wonder you fell for me.” Xander shrugged off her hand.
“Don’t pout, Xander. Most human feelings of love and affection don’t go much deeper than that.” Seeing as that didn’t lighten the gloom on his face, she added, “That doesn’t mean I only love you for sex and money. Y-you’re a good man. I only went to Spike to feel better about myself. I couldn’t stop comparing him to you the whole time and thinking how much better it would be with--”
Xander cringed. “Oh god! You’re not gonna say ‘I was thinking of you the whole time,’ are you? I don’t that I could take that much cliché.” Then he did a double take. “Wait a minute. You say you love me? As in present tense?”
She drew back a little. “Don’t read too much into it, Xander. Loving you wouldn’t prevent me from taking vengeance.”
The words slipped out before he could think. “Too late. Remember Chips Ahoy?”
She threw up her hands in frustration. “Oh, Xander, just let it go! It was only the one time, we weren’t together any more and I wanted solace. Stop beating that particular dead horse and get over it.”
“Fine. Then stop angsting about the wedding-that-wasn’t. Get over that, Anya.”
She hissed, “I really hate you, Xander Harris.”
“Well, sometimes I hate you, too.”
They glared at each other for a moment. Then suddenly Xander and Anya were in each other’s arms, kissing one another frantically as if trying to suck the air from their lungs.
After the first touch of his lips, she wanted to shove him away. This was the man who had ripped her heart out of her chest, stomped on it and mashed it into a sloppy puddle in front of her entire demon clan. He’d walked off without giving a damn about how she felt, back into the arms of his friends who’d closed ranks around him leaving her lonely and bereft. He was hateful, awful, vicious and cruel like all men.
He was Xander Harris.
Her arms snaked up around his back and drew him closer in spite of the inner voice telling her to break his neck. She caressed his hair and moaned into his mouth instead of biting his lips off. She hadn’t felt this way with anyone else not even Olaf. Her ex-husband had been horny enough to keep a dozen barmaids satisfied and she’d loved him with something approaching desperation. But it wasn’t anything like how she loved Xander Harris.
She sighed when their lips parted and began tugging at his shirt. “Xander, I’d like us to have sex now. We can pull out one of the mats and--”
“No.” He pushed her away gently and returned to his previous seat on the benches.
She blinked at him. “What? You’re horny and I’m in the mood. We’ve had sex in here before so it’s not the awkwardness of doing it in new places.” She settled beside him and stuck her hands under his shirt again.
Wriggling away from her, he tried to formulate his thoughts. “Anya, that’s just what I don’t want.”
“You don’t want to have sex? You were kissing me very passionately just now and you have an erection. I can feel and see it.” She pressed her hand against the boner in his pants.
Xander swatted it away. “Anya, this is just what we always do. We get into a fight and then we have makeup sex. But sex isn’t enough. It doesn’t make problems go away.”
“No, but it does ease tension. Remember when we faced off against Glory?”
“In spectacular Technicolor detail. But I wouldn’t let you tell the others about our engagement afterwards or let you wear the ring I bought for months. Then I left you at the altar because I was scared of turning out like my dad. All the sex we had didn’t make that scary feeling go away and it won’t solve things now. We need to talk.”
“We have been talking. We’ve got past the insults, threats, insecurities and now we’re moving into snuggling, kissing and makeup sex. Come on. Let’s pull out the mats. I know Giles and Buffy use them for sex because I found a pair of her panties stuck under them once. So they must be very firm. We could pile our clothes on them to make them softer and keep our skins from chafing.”
“You want me to have sex on the same mats Giles and Buffy used? Way to kill the mood here, honey.” Xander’s shoulders quivered in an exaggerated shudder.
“Don’t be so squeamish, Xander. We used to have very acrobatic sessions on the vaulting horse when they weren’t around and I make sure the mats are clean every time they finish a training session. I sponge them down myself sometimes because Buffy and Giles are too self-involved to do it themselves.”
“Anya, what part of ‘no’ didn’t you hear? We’re not doing this. Especially not on those mats.” Xander so did not want to be having images of naked Giles on top of naked Buffy. Okay, maybe naked Buffy wasn’t so bad but not coupled with nude older Englishmen.
Unaware of Xander’s lusty, forbidden thoughts, Anya’s lip quivered again. “But why? D-don’t you find me attractive any more? Spi--”
The brunette’s eyes darkened to near black. “Do not mention Nacho Boy again, Anya. That bastard tried to rape Buffy last year so obviously your little tango meant as little to him as it did to you.”
“Spike tried to rape Buffy?!? I didn’t know that! Why didn’t you tell me? Does anybody else know?”
“We’re weren’t exactly talking to each other when it happened, Anya. As for the others, I don’t think anybody else knows about it. Dawn’s the only one and I don’t think she’d be of the share with Giles or Willow about it.”
“Oh my god. Poor Buffy. I wonder why she’d didn’t call on me. I know Spike’s out of town but I could have still committed an act of vengeance of him.”
Xander said, “Spike had been having sex with Buffy. I guess she may have felt she brought it on herself. She’s probably feeling guilty as hell for leading him on so no vengeance wishes from her.”
Anya leaned against Xander’s shoulder. “I had no idea. I never once felt the urge for retribution from her. How could she have dealt with this all this time?”
“She and Dawn have been through a lot. But Summers women are tough. They get hurt. They pick themselves up. They deal.”
“I guess other people have problems worse than ours, don’t they?” Anya murmured in a rare show of sympathy.
“That they do, sweetie.” The endearment slipped out of him and warm, fuzzy little glow swept all over her. Only Xander Harris could make her felt like that and she hugged him hard. This time she was the one to initiate their kiss. She pulled away and witnessed that familiar melting sweetness in his brown eyes. How she’d missed seeing that. Spike never showed any of that tenderness.
“Xander, honey?”
“Yeah, An?”
“Can we have the sex now?”
__________
Willow grimaced while flexing her fingers. She wondered if she was getting carpal tunnel syndrome. “Man, that was a long day. My bunions have bunions,” she complained. “I think I’m getting callouses on my fingers from punching the register keys so often. Is it always like this, Giles? I thought that Halloween had been a holiday fluke.”
“Normally, no. But something seems to have the Sunnydale people spooked. A lot of women were coming in--”
“They’d better not have been here to see you. You know what Buffy would have to say about that.”
“Heaven forbid. I’m actually glad she had martial arts class today.”
“Be glad we staged this for a weekend. No school so I got to help.” Willow beamed, the pain in her hands momentarily forgotten.
Giles smiled back at the green-eyed wiccan. “Thank you so much for that. Your help was much appreciated, Willow. We just have to make it through to Sunday and hopefully by Monday everyone’s regime should be back to normal.”
“And by that let’s hope that Anya decides to abandon any thought of vengeance. Do you think she’ll be too mad at me?” Willow asked. She craned her head towards the back room as she had done frequently throughout the busy day. She could have used a spell to see what was happening but respected Xander’s privacy too much for that. Besides, she didn’t want to run the risk of catching them while they were getting groin-y with each other. A shudder ran through her whenever she thought of it.
It was as if Giles read her mind. “If she’s resumed sexual relations with Xander, I imagine she’ll be suitable grateful.”
“And suitably way too much with the details. Yikes. With that I’m Audi. I have to pick up Dawn and drop her off for her latest babysitting gig. See you tomorrow, Giles.”
“Ta, Willow.” He waved goodbye to the redhead and commenced the business of closing down the shop for the night. He was a little leery of locking two people in for the night, especially with a barrier spell that prevented them from leaving if they were attacked by demons. But there were fire extinguishers in the back room and sprinklers set throughout the building. Plus there were any number of weapons in the training room. Given Anya’s temper he’d had serious second thoughts leaving them ensconced alone back there. But he trusted that her grievance with Xander would stop short of actual murder. He locked up and exited the store, confident the two were safe for the night.
He of course had other plans. But thoughts of the life growing inside his beloved tended to push amorous pursuits out of his mind. Surely Buffy would appreciate more thoughtful displays from him in the future. She was subdued and pensive these days whenever they talked about the future. She displayed all the usual feminine enthusiasm for the wedding and lately she’d taken to eyeing baby clothes in the stores and making long, ever-growing lists of things they’d need once the child arrived. But any talk of the future gave her a deer-in-the-headlights expression.
Was she still afraid he was going to leave her? Or was she worried about life on the Hellmouth in general? What could he do for her to show her how much she meant to him and that he wasn’t budging from her side?
Getting an idea, he turned the car and drove to the Sunnydale mall. He’d while away a few precious hours he’d snatched for his own in their one and only bookstore. Surely they’d have something to suit the purpose.
__________
Buffy battled her attackers with ease, fists and quips flying with equal proficiency. She was keenly aware of the new life she was carrying beneath her heart. But when she was caught up in the fight like this, she didn’t allow anything to distract her. She didn’t lapse into a psycho battle rage the way Faith did but she had totally gotten her focus back. Ha! I wonder what Frank would think if he could see me now?
A sharp flare of heat whizzed to her left; when it came to frying bad guys, Willow had the chops. So far she stuck to impressive bursts of magic like flame throwing and sending stakes or swords whizzing through the air to impale demons. She didn’t flay any of them though and Buffy was glad of that. She didn’t want to see anything that reminded her of Warren’s last stand. Her stomach simply wouldn’t stand it.
The last vampire went down and Willow flexed her fingers. “Aw, was that the last of them? No fair. They weren’t even a challenge,” she sniffed.
“It is a slow night on the Hellmouth,” Buffy agreed, shaking the last bit of dust from her jacket. “Should we be worried?”
Willow hefted the weapons bag before handing it to Buffy. “No more than usual, I guess. How are things with Dawnie? She doing okay in school?”
“Peachy with a side dish of keen. Trig is giving her problems but she’s totally kicking butt in geography and history. She says she likes learning about foreign people ‘cause she thinks it gives her a handle on learning about demons in other countries. And she’s amazing in French. She’s picking it up like she’s been a frog all her life.”
“Ick. Don’t talk to me about frogs, Buffy,” Willow said, hunching her shoulders. “I have ranidaphobia.”
“A fear of girls named Anita?” Buffy asked.
“No. Fear of frogs.”
“You’re scared of frogs? You faced Glory and frogs freak you out?” Buffy teased.
“Hey, we’re all scared of something and frogs are scary and ugly with their webby feet and slimy bodies.”
Buffy shrugged. “I guess. I wonder where Anya gets her fear of rabbits from?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing myself. Speaking of Her Ex-Demoness, you think things are going any more smoothly between her and Xander?”
Buffy’s brow puckered as she considered the romance problem between two of her friends. “I don’t know. Things didn’t look so great when I was spying on them this afternoon.”
“I’ve been tempted to use a scrying mirror to peek in on them but I don’t want to see ‘em if they’re doing the nasty. I’d feel too much like a naughty little voyeur.”
“That’s because you would be a naughty little voyeur,” Buffy pointed out to her.
“Says the one who was playing Miss Peek-A-Boo,” Willow shot back.
“I knew they weren’t going to be doing anything like that. It was too soon.”
“I don’t know,” Willow replied. “This is Anya we’re talking about, the one who did the freaky dance with Spike in the Magic Box last year.” A sudden thought struck her. “Oh darn. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this in the store. It’s bound to bring up bad memories. Ack! Maybe we should have thought this plan through a little more.”
Buffy caught a fleeting bit of movement around another crypt. “Hold that thought, Frog Lady. I think we’ve got company.”
“Tell me you are not going to be calling me that. I mean, ewwww! Buffy, answer me!” Willow took off after the other woman. Wow, Buffy could really put on speed when she wanted. Briefly she wished that she could just teleport like Anya did but that was edging too close to dark magic. Sighing, she picked up the pace and hoped Buffy would slow down as she got more and more pregnant. She couldn’t run this fast when she was six months gone, could she?
__________
Her body hummed with a light buzz as she jogged up the path to Giles’s new place. It had a very macho feel to it with all the dark, wooden furniture Giles favored, but she’d been trying to add little girly touches here and there. So far Giles had resisted the blue curtains with the tiny daisy design she’d suggested but she thought she was wearing him down.
She used the key to let herself softly into the house. She was planning on pouncing and wrestling him to the floor. As predicted, the slaying had left her keyed up and sexual tension was humming through every part of her body. Besides, Buffy liked surprising her lover. He jumped and glared at her with this mock anger she found very cute when she snuck up on him. Also she’d caught him a couple of times when he was half dressed or wearing nothing but a bathrobe and that had led to some really energetic sex. Maybe she’d get lucky again tonight.
Now she tiptoed through the spacious quarters, looking for her cuddly, sexy English teddy bear. When she saw Giles reading on the couch, she halted, drinking in the picture he made. He was still wearing his day clothes from the Magic Box, sans his jacket, and his shirt was rumpled in a way both distracted and sexy. She blinked when she saw tie and jacket had been carelessly tossed onto an adjacent chair. Sloppiness like that was out of character for Giles.
She inched closer, wondering why he didn’t say anything. She had been really quiet but she wasn’t invisible. Hadn’t he noticed her by now?
She slid closer and something must have caught his attention. The tall man looked up from the couch, his stare glazed and unfocused. Then awareness snapped into them. “Buffy!” He dropped the book he was reading, ran towards her and enfolded her in a huge bear hug.
“Giles! Good to see you too.” When he didn’t release her, she wriggled her legs. “Hey, big guy. Mind putting me down? Unless this is some new dance step you’re trying to teach me.”
“Sorry.” He released her with a slight air of embarrassment and then reached out to stroke her belly.
She swatted away his hand. “Hey, less affection for Tiny. More for the mommy.”
“You were the one who just told me to put you down.” Nevertheless he grasped her by the hand, looking into her hazel eyes with a mixture of tenderness and anxiety.
“I’m taking it you weren’t reading Debbie Does Dallas. Wanna tell me what’s got your English knickers in a bunch, Giles?” Concern welled up in the hazel eyes. “You didn’t find another prophecy of world endage, did you? ‘Cause I was hoping that would hold off until after the kid was born.”
“N-no, not exactly.”
She didn’t like it when Giles stuttered. He hadn’t done it for years and it meant something bad if the habit had re-appeared now. Buffy stepped around him and caught a glimpse of the book he’d been reading. She squinted at the brightly colored book. The incongruous cover as well as the relative slimness of the volume piqued her interest and she snatched up the book before Giles could stop her.
She read the title out loud, a delighted laugh escaping from her. “What You Can Do for Her When She’s Expecting! Awwww, aren’t you sweet! Let’s take a look-see.”
Giles made a half-hearted attempt to take it back but Buffy scooted along the couch out of his reach. “Buffy, I was merely...”
She flipped through it, making commentary on the words and illustrations. “‘Draw a bath for her, add some bath salts, light a few candles, and then get out of her way so she can enjoy the experience.’” Buffy turned the page. “‘On your way out of the bathroom, take and then lose the scale.’”
She looked up, her face clouding. “I’m going to get all fat and gross, aren’t I? I remember Mom waddling around the house and Dad having to lift her in and out of chairs when she was pregnant with Dawn. Only that never happened.” She shook her head. “Wow, sometimes those fake memories are mundo bizarre.” Buffy sighed.
“What is it, dearest?”
She smiled wobbly and he wondered if she was going to cry--another of those mood swings, no doubt. “A-are you still going to love me when I’m big and bloat-y?”
He drew her into his arms and hugged her. “My dear, I’ll love you even if you’re covered in baby poo.”
“Oh, that’s really sweet. And kinda gross, actually. But I get the sentiment.” She darted him a quick kiss and continued perusing the book.
“‘Become a model of versatility.’ And, look, he’s washing the dishes! Well, I know you can handle that.” She turned another page at random. “ ‘Peppermint foot oil followed by a foot massage.’ Nice, but I prefer vanilla.”
“I know. You smell heavenly in it.” He draped one arm around her shoulders, the other hand in its now familiar place on her stomach. She nestled into his arms, now tucking her head into the cozy spot beneath his chin. Giles leaned his head into her hair and comforted himself by drawing in the unique Buffy scent drifting up from his beloved.
“‘Stock the cabinets and refrigerator with at least one of everything for those spur-of-the-moment cravings.’ Just in case you’re wondering, I like peanut butter--”
“Preferably crunchy.” Grinning at her surprise, he murmured, “I spent a great deal of time with Dawn after you--after the battle with Glory. She told me a great deal about you: the things you did and said, your preferences and dislikes, your favorite color, foods, perfume. I-I think it helped her to talk about you. One day I walked into the kitchen and caught her huddled over the counter clutching a half-finished jar of crunchy peanut butter. It had been jammed behind a box of oat bran that she thought particularly vile. An attempt to hide it from her, no doubt.”
“That it was. I should have hidden it in my room but I’ve learned that’s the first place Dawn snoops for my things.”
“Well, she was bawling her eyes out and I couldn’t fathom what had gotten her so distraught. She flung her arms around me and blubbered how it had always been your favorite kind. I couldn’t get her to stop crying for almost half an hour.”
“Really? Who knew Dawn was such a softy?” But her mocking scorn for her little sister was tempered with pity. Dawn had suffered too when she’d been dead and silently Buffy kicked herself for being so wound up in her own pain the previous year. It had been rough on everyone not having her around but especially for Dawn. She’d had Buffy’s friends looking out for her but that wasn’t the same. Buffy privately resolved to be nicer to her sister in the future. Maybe they could spend girly time together.
She was struck by an idea. “Giles, Willow tells me you used to sing at the Espresso Pump.”
Giles was baffled by the turn of conversation. Sometimes the workings of his Slayer’s mind had him completely flummoxed. “Um, yes. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, Willow used to rave about your voice. She said it made her go all gooey in the knees and that was after she found out she was gay.”
“Willow’s been raving about my singing?” Giles exclaimed.
“You betcha. She, Xander, Tara and Anya used to listen to you. They’d sneak in and watch you from the back rows. I just thought you knew.” Buffy peered into his face. “You didn’t tell her about it?”
“I didn’t tell any of them,” Giles muttered.
“Why? What, was it some deep dark secret?” Buffy teased. She saw a faint blush on Giles’s cheeks and her eyes widened. “It is, isn’t it? What’s the matter, were you ashamed or something? Why? You aren’t that bad. Anya gushed about it all the time. She said it made her get all these lusty feelings for Xander--not that she needed the help or anything.”
“It’s not that, Buffy. It’s just--this was something private, something for me alone. Sometimes you all got so caught up in your personal lives. I wanted something for myself that would bring me in contact with other people in my age group. That’s all it was.”
“What about now? I mean, we’re not kids any more. Why the secrecy?”
“I knew how the others thought of me, how you thought of me.”
“How was that?”
“‘Blah blah blippity blah. I’m so stuffy. Give me a scone,’ was how I believe you expressed it. I imagine that’s why you never came to hear me sing in spite of the others’s recommendations.” The words were mildly spoken and without rancor but Buffy caught the flash of hurt in his green eyes.
“Okay. So Buffy’s the insensitive one,” she mumbled.
“It wasn’t just you. None of you seemed to care about my private life or even whether I had one. That’s why I’m surprised the others spoke about my singing to you. Even now Xander writhes in agony whenever Anya gets too graphic in her speculations about our sex lives.”
“He was doing the Xander-squirm whenever she talked about their sex life. With you, it’s just Xander going ‘Ack! Older guy having sex! Giles having sex!!’ He thinks of you as his father figure and it’s always a little creepsome to think of the parents doing that. I remember how much I wigged when I caught Mom betting all grope-y with Ted and that’s before I knew he was a robot. That doesn’t explain your hiding the truth about Giles the Songmeister.”
“Well, the truth is I’m quite a few years older than the rest of you and the generation gap is one that’s usually impossible to bridge. The songs I sing in the Espresso Pump are from another era and might as well be from the Cretaceous period as far as people in your age demographic are concerned. I simply believed that none of you would be remotely interested in what an old fogey like myself sings.”
Buffy protested the description at once. “Giles, you’re not old.”
“No. I’m old and gross.”
The memory of seeing him in his robe and Olivia in his shirt flashed across her mind and jealousy and shame wrestled for control as she recalled how badly she’d treated him. “Not you. It was the thought of you doing that with her that was gross. And if I never said it before--I’m sorry. I wasn’t being fair to you. You’re a male with male needs and I should have accepted that. Forgive me?” she added in a small voice.
“I forgive you, Buffy.” Firm lips descended to hers and Buffy slid in to his arms, the baby book falling onto the floor. When Giles’s hand slid up and down her side, glancing brushes from his fingertips feathering across her breast, she moaned into his mouth. Drawing back from her, he whispered, “How about attending to some of those male needs, then?”
She giggled. “Giles, you are such a guy sometimes.” But when he drew closer, she held him off for a moment. “Hey, about the Espresso Pump.”
His male needs were becoming pressing and the sudden return of the previous subject didn’t register immediately. “Hmmm?”
“Would you sing there again? I’d like to take Dawn with me for a girls’ night out and we’d love to hear you.”
Flushing, he recalled many of the intimate numbers he’d sung there, the unspoken emotions for his Slayer pouring out of him in song. If Buffy heard any of that or encountered regulars who knew his repertoire, there was no way she’d miss the connection. He wasn’t certain he could expose himself like that in front of his audience and her without dying of embarrassment. “I, um, I haven’t sung there in quite a long time. My voice is rather rusty.”
“Uh uh. You’re not wriggling out of this, Watcher mine. The others got to hear Giles singage. Now it’s my turn.”
Casting about for an excuse to deter her, he asked, “What if I sing just for you? Would that be acceptable?”
“Really? Just for me?” She had wanted this to be a special treat for her sister. But the thought of a private session from her Watcher was more fun. “Deal. What’re you going to sing?”
Giles rooted around in his memory for a suitable tune, one that would capture all the infuriated, tender, desperate emotions his Slayer seemed to bring out of him with one mispronounced word, tearful glance or pout from her delicious lip. He held her close under his arm and began intoning softly:
“When a man loves a woman,
Can’t keep his mind on nothin’ else,
He’d change the world
For the good thing he’s found
If she is bad, he can’t see it,
She can do no wrong,
Turn his back on his best friend
If he put her down
When a man loves a woman,
Spend his very last dime
Tryin’ to hold on to what he needs
He’d give up all his comforts
And sleep out in the rain,
If she said that’s the way it ought to be
Well, this man loves you, woman
I gave you everything I have,
Tryin’ to hold on to your hot blood long
Baby, please don’t treat me bad
When a man loves a woman,
Down deep in his soul,
She can bring him such misery
If she is playin’ him for a fool,
He’s the last one to know
Lovin’ eyes can never see
When a man loves a woman
He can do her no wrong,
He can never hug some other girl
Yes, when a man loves a woman
I know exactly how he feels,
‘Cause baby, baby, you’re my girl
When a man loves a woman...”
As Giles sang out the last repeated lines, Buffy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Wow, that was... Hey, I know that one! Isn’t it from an Andy Garcia and Meg Ryan movie? That’s not an old song, Giles!” she accused.
“Buffy, that’s a Percy Sledge song from the 1960s. Goodness, don’t you know any cultural references that don’t come from movies, pop music or shiny magazines?” Giles asked with asperity.
“Chill, Giles. I was only teasing.” Actually, Buffy hadn’t been aware of this Sledge guy. She made a mental note to look him up on the Internet when she got a chance. But what kind of wussy, girly name was Percy?
“Well?”
“Hmmm?” She looked up to see Giles gazing at her with apprehension.
“What did you think of the singing?”
“Oh! It was wonderful, Gilesean goodness. If I’d heard you sing like that before, I would have seduced you a lot sooner.” Limber fingers danced over his torso and Buffy began unbuttoning his shirt.
Giles snapped his fingers in mock annoyance. “Blast. If I’d know you were such a pushover, I would have sung for you before now. Those women in the Espresso Pump certainly appreciated my efforts.”
The unbuttoning stopped as Giles was treated to another famous Buffy glare. “What women?”
Oh dear. He should have remembered what it was like to face a jealous Slayer. “Easy, love. I was only teasing. I was far too caught up in thoughts of you to respond to any of those women--tossed knickers aside.”
“Women were throwing panties at you? Those skanks!”
Giles reached for her only to have Buffy pointedly move away from him. “Buffy, no skimpy bit of lace could possibly compare to you. I couldn’t bring myself to return any of those women’s feelings.”
“Not even with your male needs?” Buffy gave his crotch a meaningful stare.
“I’m not saying I wasn’t tempted.” The glare had been replaced by the Summers pout. “But the singing at the Espresso Pump was more about letting out my feelings, bringing out a part of myself that I hadn’t explored since my Ripper days.”
“Yeah, Willow found a picture of you with long hair and wearing jeans.”
“She did?” Blast the meddling little witch. When had she gone burrowing through his things? Privately Giles swore that he was going to rifle through his belongings and torch anything remotely embarrassing and incriminating when he got the chance.
“Uh huh. It was during the whole band candy mess when Ethan had made one of his guest appearances.” Buffy was struck by a thought. “Were you and Ethan ever in a band or anything?”
“Well, yes, though not one you’d have heard of. We called ourselves Hot Young Sorcerers.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Wow. Subtle. Did you take out an ad in the papers saying ‘Budding black magic buddies seek drummer looking for the same?’”
“Ha bloody ha. We were really serious about it at the time. Ethan wanted to show off with a few magically created fireworks during one of our gigs. It was marvelous until he accidentally set some curtains on fire.”
“Yowtch. And I’m guessing that was the end of Hot Young Sorcerers.”
“Indeed.”
Buffy nestled closer. “I really did like the singing, Giles.”
He smiled at the sweetness in her voice. “Thank you.”
“But if you could sing with Ethan in some grungy basement...”
“Excuse me. Grungy music hall, I’ll have you know,” he countered heatedly.
“Whatever. Then you can sing for me at the Espresso Pump.”
Giles sighed. It seemed there was no deterring Buffy. She was bound and determined to watch him humiliate himself in public.
Still, the idea held some appeal. He hadn’t appeared at the Espresso for some time and he really did miss the practice and accolades. Lionel, the bar’s owner, liked having him there as well. He claimed business was always better when Giles appeared. The ladies turned out in droves and men were attracted as well, hoping to catch the birds’ attentions when they weren’t fastened on the stage. “Very well, Buffy. When do you wish to attend the public execution?”
Buffy snorted at his resigned tone. “You don’t fool me, Rupert Giles. You’re panting to get back on that stage. What man wouldn’t want the droolage of anonymous women?”
“Don’t forget the free beverages. They’re always an incentive.”
Buffy inclined her head towards her stomach. “Hear that, sweetie? Daddy was a Rolling Stone wannabe.”
“That’s ‘Papa was a rolling stone,’ dearest.”
“Huh?” Buffy’s unknowing stare made Giles cluck his tongue.
“Buffy, some night you and I must spend an evening listening to some of my old records.”
“Do I have to?” Buffy whined.
“Your mother didn’t seem to mind them,” Giles pointed out.
“Okay, you’re talking about the incident with the band candy, aren’t you? I still have images of you rolling around with mom on the top of a police car!! I do not want that scenario playing in my head.” Buffy slapped herself on the head as if emphasizing the disgusting nature of the mental images.
“Would you rather replace them with pornographic images of the two of us?” His voice got low and the insinuating tone roused a fluttering heat in her belly. Buffy shifted towards him, lipping all around his mouth.
She sighed with longing. “Wow. I thought this moment would never come.”
“What moment?”
“I finally get to screw you on the couch!”

TBC
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What a Mother Wouldn't Do