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She kept her head down as the wind and rain picked up a little, blond bangs matted to her skin, rivulets of water rolling from her features. It was getting late, almost 11:30, she ought to have been heading home - Buffy didn’t need the usual session of twenty questions from her mother, she had enough of her own tonight. Staking something would have been good, but even the vampires were showing sense and staying indoors during the freak weather the evening had brought. She wondered if it were Hellmouthy then decided that rain, even in California in summer, was not that strange an occurrence. Raining frogs, yeah that would be bizarre, or perhaps more ‘interesting’ than bizarre by Sunnydale standards, but water? Hey she was the Slayer, a little wet stuff wasn’t going to harm her. Giles on the other hand, had he been there, would have disagreed with that, concerned for her well being as always and telling her she would no doubt catch a cold. And then she would maybe roll her eyes or smile tolerantly, taking once more for granted the caring he displayed towards her. From there conscious thought almost dissolved. Randomly her mind wondered from the fluffy times they had seen to darker more dangerous topics. She found herself wondering how Giles stayed sane and if he ever felt like tossing the towel in or if he ever had flashbacks of all the terrors he had endured over the years.
The swing continued moving back and forth under it’s own steam as she looked on into the darkness surrounding her. She needed to go home, except…Buffy wasn’t sure what home meant for her anymore.
*****
Giles half-heartedly berated himself as he walked, the rain easing off almost completely. It was stupid to be out near the playground at night on his own without a stake to hand. Whilst, still relatively unbeknown to the others, he could handle himself should the need arise, as a Watcher he ought to know better. As a man, he wasn’t particularly concerned with what he ought to know at the minute, instead concentrating on a topic that he rationally knew was completely futile yet, like a dog with a bone, he simply could not drop.
By now the Englishman was soaked through, his jacket offering little resistance to the elements as the first bone deep shiver racked his tall form, the sort that arose from walking for an hour in the rain. God help him should he ever wish to return to England, he wouldn’t survive. The wet grass beneath his feet shone as he crossed towards the children’s playground, lost in thought. He wondered where she was now, if she was safely at home or if she was still out, at the Bronze with the others. Who was he kidding? He’d never banish thoughts of his Slayer from his mind, it was who he was, who he was destined to be no matter how much he may have tried to escape the fact in his younger days. His was the key word in all of this, *his* Slayer, because that’s what Buffy was, his, just as he was her Watcher. Should he lose her, should she die, a thought he tried his damnedest not to contemplate, he would never be able to take another on. Buffy was his and there would be no other.
So long as his personal feelings did not interfere with his duties he could maintain objectivity and his sanity even though feeling her so near all the time yet not be able to do anything about it…hell, he’d go mad! For all his intelligence, his training and experience that came only from living life, Giles was in love with her and unable to do anything to change that fact. Knowing that night after night he was sending her out, possibly to a painful and unpleasant death, tortured him on a level that only Angelus had managed to outdo. And Buffy.
He supposed that in some ways a Watcher falling for their Slayer was inevitable, there had been others, the records scattered amongst the Watcher Diaries stored at the library. Still, it didn’t make the fact that his love would always be unrequited any easier to bear, more somewhat worse because he had the pleasure of reading the heart-wrenching thoughts and feelings of others just like him. He had loved Jenny, of that he was sure, but he would always come back to his Slayer, choose her over anyone. Unlucky bastards, Watchers, Ethan Rayne had always maintained. Giles was inclined to agree because he knew that this would never change, never go away. He would always be hers. The objective portion of his mind wondered whether it had ever been any different. Had he always been destined to watch over her, to have his heart viciously ripped out then tenderly pieced back together ready for the next round as Buffy so frequently did? Or was it mere chance that he felt so drawn to her? Giles didn’t believe in coincidence, not after two years on the Hellmouth. No, he had been hers since the day he was born. Watcher and Slayer were fated, it was just that this particular watcher was fated to love his Slayer beyond reason, even when she almost destroyed him. In a detached state of mind he sometimes wondered what she would have to do to make him deem her actions unforgivable, and the truth was there was nothing she could do that would make him love her any less, want her any less. God did he want her.
Giles massaged his right hand, the rain making his newly healed fingers ache. Some mornings he still awoke to feel his whole body aching as if it had only been a matter of days since it had happened, not almost three months. Reliving those hours every night had done nothing for him either. The scars simply extended his already elaborate collection, some penetrating deeper than others, some, one, beyond the simply physical connotations. Well, that was blindingly obvious. What in Gods name had he been thinking when he’d started to drink again? It had just gotten too hard to deal with, he’d repressed it for too long until the enormity, the truth of everything he’d endured at Angel’s hands, had overwhelmed him. And Buffy had been there to witness it. He knew he hadn’t dealt with it and he also knew that it would take a long time before he would truly be able to talk of that night. When Buffy had touched his face he had been unable to fight off the memory of Angelus’s similar caress at the mansion. The demon had been trying to goad Giles into begging him to stop but he hadn’t and had therefore endured the consequences, the second time he refused resulting in a far more vicious and painful encounter for the Watcher. Angel had laughed. As long as he lived, Giles would never be able to forget the sound and feel of the vampire as he stripped away his dignity, but he would have to live and get on with it all the same. He would stay by his Slayer’s side but, unavoidably, with Buffy came Angel.
*****
The feeling she had hadn’t changed, it was still definitely love, and after nine hours Buffy decided that it really wasn’t some perverse reaction to the realisation that Angelus had raped Giles. She really did feel like this about her Watcher and the more she thought about it, the less strange it seemed - a thought that originally would have seemed scary in itself. Home was her Watcher. It always had been, just she had been too wrapped up in everything and everyone else to see it, everything but him. Father figure was just a convenient label for him, a term behind which she could hide until the warm fuzzies she got around him went away. For all the barbs and the insults about his age and his looks, truthfully she knew he was sexy and she knew he had to be fit to train with her. That wouldn’t change her mind about the tweed though.
For all she had seen, Buffy Summers really was a naïve 17 year old. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that it was a Watcher-Slayer thing, something unique to that relationship, but foremost in her thoughts right now was Giles’s feelings with regard to her. Brain consuming hypothesising could wait.
It was only a moment later that she registered movement behind her and slid the stake from up her sleeve down into her waiting hand.
*****
He knew before he could make out the features of the figure on the swing who it was. He could feel her, it was a difficult aspect of his training that he very rarely engaged - the ability to sense his Slayer, but he did so now, randomly theorising that it was the recent barrage of emotions he had experienced that enabled the link without conscious thought. He smiled slightly as he caught the movement of the stake making it’s transition from sleeve to hand, maybe something good had occurred from his staying in Sunnydale.
He knew the instant she realised who was approaching her from behind because she inhaled, her grip loosening around the lovingly whittled wood, the swing gradually coming to a halt. Then her soft voice reached him where he stood a few metres behind her.
" I could have staked you…"
" Possibly." He conceded in an equally soft tone, closing the distance between them. " What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death Buffy.
She turned and looked at him, a smile on her face as he sat on the swing next to hers and she took in his own state. " What am I doing out here? I could ask you the same thing…you’re soaked through…"
" Well it was raining." Giles teased reflexively, although with nowhere near the usual amount of humour to his voice. His heart swelled at the site of her soaked through and he noticed the shivers that periodically ran through her. " Shouldn’t you be at home?" He asked.
Buffy looked at the floor and then up to meet his green gaze as he watched her, always watching. What did he feel? What did he think when he looked at her, his Slayer?
" I had some things to think through. I guess I lost track of the time. What about you? A bit late for a stroll isn’t it Giles?"
It was Giles’s turn to look down at the floor. What could he tell her? I was out thinking about how much I want to throw you to the floor and love you completely? No, probably not the most sensible of answers. Oh, you know. Things to think about. The, uh, rain reminds me of England."
" Home." Buffy stated, scraping the toe of her sneaker across the ground.
Giles made a non-committal noise at that, wondering if England had ever really been home to him, but Buffy appeared not to notice. He did notice when she shivered again which made up his mind that the both of them really should be getting in doors now before one if not both of them caught pneumonia. On cue, the heavens opened and thunder boomed across the skies, the rain falling so fast that it became impossible to see very far in front of them. Buffy let out a shocked cry as the water doused her and Giles grabbed her hand. Come on, we need to find some shelter." And with that began to lead her back to civilisation and warmth.
*****
The bedraggled pair literally fell through his front door in their rush to get in out of the rain. Maybe this sort of weather *was* freaky in Sunnydale afterall, drowning was not something she had wanted to experience a second time she mused, as he shut the door behind her and hit the light switch.
Water dripped from every part of the pair, pooling on the floor of his apartment as the storm continued to rage outdoors. Her sneakers actually squelched as she walked, something she had thought limited to bad comedies on TV. Obviously not. Shivers racked her small form, her teeth chattering madly as she watched her Watcher shed his coat.
" Get that jacket off, I’ll be back in a moment. Giles said, starting for his bathroom as Buffy fiddled with the buttons to her wet clothing, her fingers shaking with cold. Seconds later he re-emerged with a dark blue towel draped around his neck and one in his hands for her. Buffy sniffed as she struggled with the last two stubborn fastenings, finally giving in and simply using her strength to yank them off. Only buttons. They had almost run from the park to his place and yet she still felt as if she’d swum the Atlantic or something.
" Thanks," She smiled at him as he handed her the towel and he gave her a small smile back.
Buffy shivered again and he snapped straight into concerned Watcher mode as he crossed to the fireplace on the other side of the living room and began to stoke up a fire.
" Here, you ought to dry off…" Giles glanced at her clothing as she moved towards him. " I’ll see what I can find for you upstairs until they dry out.
" I ought to call mom…"
" Feel free…"
Giles opened his closet door and rifled through the items in it, removing a shirt for her then pulling out a pair of Khaki pants and a white shirt for himself before starting to remove his clothes. Shoes and socks went first shortly followed by shirt and pants, dropping them to the floor as he shed the clothing. Picking the dry Khakis up from the bed he pulled them on and was just about to don his shirt when a crash from below drew him from the loft.
*****
Buffy shook her head as the room span a little. Oh ow.
" Buffy?" Giles asked, coming down the stairs, reaching where she sat on the floor between the phone and the couch in under a second.
Concern marred his face as he extended his hands to her and helped her up from the floor and Buffy offered him a smile. God she liked it when he looked at her like that, his green eyes full of concern and worry, it made her feel…loved. The Watcher rested a gentle hand on her shoulder as she stood and Buffy met his gaze.
" What happened?"
Buffy frowned at the offending culprit by her feet. " I was coming back from the phone and I slipped on some water."
" Are you alright?"
Buffy nodded, rubbing her hip. Yeah I’m okay. I’m the Slayer remember? It’ll need a bit more than an evil puddle to take me out."
He smiled at that, letting out the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. Buffy did the exact opposite, unable to breathe as she took in the sight before her, realising that Giles was barefoot and shirtless - a fact that had somehow previously escaped her notice. She couldn’t help herself as her gaze raked across him, from his wet hair, over his broad shoulders and down across his defined chest. He had a light sprinkling of chest hair and she found herself overcome with an urge to reach out and touch him, run her fingers up his chest and trace the scars peppered across his skin. She hadn’t thought about his body, let alone scars, although it made sense considering the little she knew of his past.
Giles looked at her, thinking for a moment that he could feel her hot gaze upon his skin before silently cursing and then mentally castrating himself. God he was a fool, a weak old fool.
Continuing her inspection, something caught Buffy’s attention as her brown gaze coursed over his skin, and she took a step forward, reaching out to touch the marks with her fingertips.
" Buffy?" He queried with a frown, suppressing a shiver as her fingers made contact.
" Did I…did I do those?" she questioned quietly, tracing the vague fist shape of the purple bruises just below his left collarbone. Giles followed her gaze, trying not to react to the sensation of her small cool hands as they mapped the results of a sparring session several days earlier.
" It, uh, goes with the territory." He offered lightly.
Buffy looked up at him with wide sorrow filled eyes. " I’m sorry." She had hurt him, hurt her Giles and not on the emotional level this time either. Those bruises were there by her doing. She swallowed at the conflicting emotions that rose in her as she evaluated the marks. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever injured him in training but for some reason this seemed more significant, she felt worse about these bruises than she had the other incidents put together. He’d been hurt enough. He needed to heal.
Without thought she stepped even closer and pressed her lips against the worst of the marks, her hands resting on his sides. " I’m so sorry for everything."
Giles wanted to groan, she was so close he could actually feel the heat from her body, her scent enveloping him in a sweet haze that had rational thought spinning dangerously out of orbit.
" Buffy I…" But the words strayed no further, dying on his lips as his eyes met hers and one moment of perfect clarity passed between them.<kiss me> For the longest time they simply stood looking at each other, afraid to move lest the intricate spell they had woven with a look be broken, then his fingers fleetingly brushed her cheek and his warm lips captured hers in a devastatingly sweet kiss.
It was just like their contact, what? Twenty four hours ago? Was that all? As her hands slid around his back under the ministrations of his kiss the scene shifted in front of his eyes and it wasn’t Buffy anymore, Angelus laughing long and loud in the deserted mansion. The image that confronted him every night twisting a moment that should have meant everything to him as she inadvertently traced a well worn ‘path’ down his back, bone deep shivers of fear wracking his frame as the vampire’s face appeared as clear as anything in his minds eye.
Buffy felt him tense as soon as her nails raked down his spine and knew as only a woman could that it wasn’t a good tenseness either. It was only as he pulled back from her and she caught his terrified expression as he turned away that she realised what was going on, then her sable eyes alighted upon his back and vague realisation and understanding shifted to mute horror. What in God’s name had done that?
" I’m sorry…" That whisper again, the voice that didn’t belong to him. He stood two metres away staring into the fireplace with his back to her, hands at his sides. At first she wondered if he meant about the kiss or whether he was sorry for having feelings…maybe both…
" Angelus…" A soft statement rather than a question, answered with a simple nod on his part.
Resisting the urge to touch the relatively new scars running across his shoulders and down his back, she forced away renewed anger and guilt, realising that even now he wasn’t free from that monster’s grip.
" Giles…" Buffy closed part of the gap between them, reaching forward to grasp his hand where it hung at his side, fist clenched through inner turmoil. Tenderly she curled her fingers around his and he looked down at their joined hands, gripping her hand so tightly in return that he would no doubt have broken it had she not been The Slayer. Her lips were tingling from the kiss shared, her heart aching for the look of desolation on his face and the tension in his shoulders, her mind was racing to figure out what the hell had happened and what was going to happen now. Would either of them ever get a break from all this pain and confusion?
She took another step, trying to ignore the way his body reacted to her approach, the muscles in his shoulders painfully taut as if all he wanted to do was bolt out of the room and into the raging night. <Was it me, was I not good?> Furiously Buffy shook her head to dispel her own memories of Angelus, this wasn’t about her for once, this was about him.
*****
" Do you want to talk about it?" She asked tentatively.
Giles shook his head, glancing down at their joined hands and then, as if seeing them for the first time, ceased his death grip on her protesting joints. But he didn’t let go.
" No."
Moving around from his back to face him, Buffy stared up at him trying to catch his errant gaze.
" Giles, it might he-"
" I don’t want to talk about it Buffy, least of all with you!" He couldn’t help but raise his voice slightly, searching for any form of defence against this, against his dear sweet Buffy. Despite the firm hold she had on his hand he still managed to pull free and move across the room to the fire place, staring down into the flickering depths the warm fire presented. She had to do something, anything to ease this before it ate him alive.
" Giles please, you have to talk about this before it tears you apart anymore. I know it’s hard but-
" You don’t know, you can’t ever know Buffy!
He didn’t shout, his voice remaining level but the deep seated anger clear even if his voice was barely loud enough for her to hear as he slipped his hands into the deep set pockets of his pants. Giles quiet was worse than Giles shouting, it implied a stronger inner emotion. " You don’t know what it’s like to wake up each night in a cold sweat, paralysed by memories, or what it’s like to know that everyday you’ll be reminded of the bastard that soddomised you simply by walking into a particular room or hearing a particular phrase and have to deal with seeing his face as clear as anything because of it. To look into the mirror and see permanent reminders of everything you so desperately try to forget."
A lone tear blazed a hot path down his cheek but he made no attempt to stop it, the words flowing freely of their own accord and he had neither the strength nor the inclination to fight them.
Buffy wanted nothing more than to go to him and take him into her arms to soothe all the anger and pain that was so clearly carried in his voice, but she knew he needed this, knew that without it he would slowly die. She’d read about rape in magazines and papers, about the feelings of victims afterwards but she’d never applied it to her Watcher, never thought he’d be the same. There were a lot of things that Buffy had never applied to him and she regretted it now but she’d been too young, too naïve to realise the things she now did about the man in front of her.
" You don’t know what it’s like to come home and find your lover dead at his hands, or to watch him systematically try to destroy a person you care about. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to laugh at you while they rape you or how helpless you feel afterwards because you couldn’t stop it, how hard it is to realise that you’re the victim, that you didn’t deserve everything you got as penance for other events in your life…you don’t know how weak and helpless I feel because I *failed* you Buffy and I’m still failing you now…"
Buffy’s own tears coursed silently down her cheeks as he trailed off but she knew with sudden clarity what she had to do, making her way across to where he stood. God she’d been a fool in the past, heartless, cruel, but that would change because there was no way she was going to let him go.
Giles felt tired now that the pent up anger had dissipated, recent emotional outbursts and lack of sleep draining him after a trying 48 hours. He heard her soft footed approach from behind, sensed her stopping at his side then felt her small hand on his arm, coaxing him to face her. He went with little protest, slowly raising tired green depths to the glistening brown ones.
" I’m sor-" He started wearily, aware that some of what he’d said must have hurt her and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
" Shh."
Buffy’s finger gently touched his lips, hushing his more than unnecessary apology before tenderly brushing at the stray tear with her thumb.
" You have *nothing* to be sorry for. I should be the one apologising for so many things Giles, for all the things I’ve said and done in the past…for Angel, for Jenny…for you. I don’t care what you say, you’ve never failed me and you never could…I love you, it took me a while to realise, but I do, with all my heart." She paused hoping to God he could see the truth of her words reflected in her eyes, hoping that he could see that she really meant this. I want you Giles, but I’ll wait for you…whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here for you and in-between times too. She said it with such love, such tenderness in her voice that he couldn’t not believe her words, his eyes filling with tears as he pressed his cheek into her palm.
" Oh, Buffy." He whispered wearily, hoping to God that they weren’t making a mistake.
To be continued...