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With all the communications from foreign dignitaries to which Buffy needed to respond, she answered Dawn’s phone call without a second’s hesitation. Dawn hardly ever called without notice, but even the threat of Dawn’s rantings sounded better than responding to the false pleasantries of a French diplomat that would rather strangle her and leave her for dead than actually play nice.
“-believe him! Of all the selfish and ugly things to do,” Dawn apparently didn’t even wait for Buffy to pick up the phone as she began her venting sesh. “I mean, can’t he just pick me over his stupid secretary just once?”
“Oh, Dawn…” Buffy sighed, quickly connecting the sparse details Dawn managed to huff out. “He’s not coming for your birthday?”
“Of course he isn’t.” Buffy heard Dawn scoff over the line. “The new Mrs. Skank can’t be bothered to leave the beach long enough to visit New York--and dad just can’t even fathom leaving her there to come see me this next week.”
“I’m so sorry, D-” Buffy didn’t bother to finish as Dawn elaborated on her insults for their dad and his new wife. From past experience, she knew better than to try calming Dawn down before her sister was ready. It was better to just ride it out.
Buffy certainly understood Dawn’s frustrations with their dad anyways; she had an endless supply of them ever since Mom passed away. He was essentially MIA up until Sunnydale was left as nothing more than a crater. While the harrowing (super)natural disaster woke him up from his affair-induced haze enough to make him reach out to Buffy and Dawn, it did little to actually improve his relationships with his daughters. Sure, he paid for Dawn’s schooling and housing, but he was still a flake at best and a totally absent parent in all reality. After years of disappointments from the man, Buffy had way bigger drama to deal with than her dad.
Afterall, even if Giles helped manage the Council from the more Watcher-Guy side of things, Buffy was still the face of their international organization. She had to show her best side at all the galas and diplomatic dinners—which she would totally love if not for all the snobby politicians lining up to either kiss her ass or order her to hand over slayers on silver platters for them to use and abuse in the name of national safety. Honestly, she preferred dealing with a dad that hardly wanted to see her over dignitaries drooling over the chance to have power over her. One of these days, she wanted to put on a killer dress with equally killer heels, and just have a great time not killing vampires or listening to foreign dignitaries kill the mood.
"Do you want me to come out to New York for your birthday instead?" Buffy offered once Dawn winded down a bit from her rant.
"No, that's alright, I'm still coming over to London next month," Dawn sighed. "I just needed to vent, like always with dad... I swear it: when I get married, I'm not having dad walk me down the aisle."
Buffy blinked. This was going a different direction than most of Dawn's rants. "I, uh, I guess I can walk you down and give you away when the time comes—but that better not be anytime soon!"
"Of course not." Dawn snorted. "And you aren't going to walk me down the aisle; you are going to be my maid of honor."
"Well then who would walk you down?" Buffy frowned in confusion.
"Are you kidding? Giles obviously."
"Giles?" Buffy parroted without much less confusion than before.
"Oh my god, yes, of course Giles. He's totally been more of a father figure to me than dad has in almost a decade," Dawn explained, and somehow, pulling Giles into the conversation calmed her down more. "Honestly, I've known that I'd want him to walk me down the aisle since mom died—except maybe for a little while after you came back and he left us in Sunnydale—but that was fixed years ago, so..."
Buffy hardly listened to the rest of Dawn's explanation and barely got her farewells spoken before Dawn hung up rather abruptly—which was not unusual in the slightest with her. She absently pondered Dawn's admission while gathering her notes and leaving her office for a meeting.
Why hadn’t she noticed Dawn's view of Giles before? Duh, of course Giles was a father figure to Dawn! She guessed she never realized because she has never viewed Giles in that way—as a father figure. A trusted adult? Yes, the most trusted adult she had ever known, but he also treated her as a trusted adult and encouraged her to act like one, too. That was probably the biggest reason she didn’t resent him for leaving for England while she was drowning after coming back from Heaven. Sure, it all sucked, but she couldn’t honestly say he was wrong about her passing all her responsibilities off onto him and her staying numb. And in the end, the responsibility she learned in that year after coming back was what qualified her for her current role as a leader for the Slayers and Watchers. And Giles was right there beside her, just as he always had been, as her partner and friend.
Both of them had their selfish moments in the past, but Buffy thought that they were totally better for it. After all, with all they had forgiven between each other and the fact that they still worked together so well, it was clear to Buffy that they were mutually devoted to each other, like any pair of Slayer and Watcher that were truly tied together by fate, rather than the decisions of some stuffy room of old British dudes. Their bond was something the original Council disliked enough that they fired Giles, but it didn't do much and Buffy doubted it would mean much now, either. Because Giles would always be her Watcher, just as she would always be his Slayer.
Buffy knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, if one of them made up their minds and up and quit the new Council to start a new adventure, the other would follow. As impulsive as that sounded, Buffy knew she and Giles agreed about the important things, like following the path that felt most right—and no path felt more right than the one where they stuck together. Thankfully, as far as Buffy was aware, she and Giles enjoyed their somewhat tedious roles in the new Council and the temptation to split only arose during the most exhausting of meetings (which was nothing a strong drink after a good slay can't fix, and Giles has even offered to join her for those once or twice).
Today's meeting wasn't one of those, hopefully. Buffy actually liked the meetings where they all sat down and discussed graduating Slayers and Watchers who would need assignments to teams. Not too many Watchers survived the attacks of the First, and even fewer wanted to stick around under new management, but Giles had managed to convince a few to come back—with the requirement that they earn their respect from the Slayers rather than demand such things. It took a while, but a good number of Watchers came around to Team Buffy's side of things (of course they call themselves the Scoobies, but the mini Slayers didn't get the memo) and earned themselves roles in various areas of their organization, such as Council members and team trainers. Both types of Watchers would be present today, along with some of the more senior Slayers.
Rather than simply assigning new Slayers to experienced Watchers anymore, new Slayers and new Watchers are assigned to train and work under the tutelage of both a Slayer and a Watcher that have greater experience than them. For the first year or two after the destruction of Sunnydale, that meant Buffy and Giles trained nearly everyone, with the exception of a select few that went with Faith to the Hellmouth in Ohio, aided occasionally by the Scoobies until a trusted Watcher could be vetted to join Faith there. After nearly five years, only more experienced Slayers and Watchers even have the option to volunteer for the Hellmouth, and the school looked less and less like a rag-tag band of misfits and more like a respectable institution that garnered a lot of attention from foreign entities seeking help with their own supernatural problems. There were perhaps a dozen Slayers and Watchers looking for assignments post-graduation, and any number of teams they could join. Today, Buffy would give her strong recommendations alongside Giles’, and they would assign graduates accordingly—unless any team had reservations or wishes to bid for specific graduates. In the end, Buffy and Giles signed off on the allocations, but even that was a formality as no Slayer or Watcher was forced into anything to which they did not agree.
Thoughts of her conversation with Dawn slip away as Buffy greeted Slayers and Watchers in the conference room, quickly getting started with her prepared analysis of graduates, adequate pairings, and team assignments once everyone is accounted for and seated. Never one for nonsense or beating around the bush, Buffy kept her analyses to the point and brutally honest regarding shortcomings she had personally observed in the graduates. Once she finished, Giles took his cue to give his additional thoughts on the matters, as well as any situational circumstances he believed could influence where it best to place different graduates. It was all information that she and Giles already discussed when she initially gave him her notes to preview earlier in the week, so Buffy didn’t feel guilty about zoning out a little as her conversation with Dawn looped back around on her train of thought.
Watching Giles address the room from across the oval conference table, Buffy conceded it wasn’t that surprising Dawn viewed Giles as a father figure, especially since the same could be said for some of the other Scoobies too. Willow, though she had a crush on Giles at some point in high school, looked up to him as an authority figure she wanted to make proud, which Buffy supposed made sense. In some ways, Buffy felt the pressure to not disappoint her Watcher, but that was a two-way-road kind of goal since he often had to work just as hard to not disappoint her. At the end of the day, they were really striving for mutual respect and they achieved that over time as they traveled the road of their relationship (a road with a lot of potholes, dead ends, and wicked curves, granted).
Xander was a different story altogether since he and Buffy shared the trauma merit badges for asshole fathers. He looked up to Giles in high school as truly the only positive male role model in his life, something she supposed was important for guys. Buffy understood that. She would have killed for an older female figure that she could truly have looked up to back then, which is probably why she took a liking to Walsh so quickly. While she loved her mom and the strength with which she carried herself, her mother never really understood slaying or the responsibilities that Buffy faced daily, and that certainly limited the degree to which they could connect on that level. It also didn’t help that nearly none of the Slayers before Buffy lived long enough to truly be considered role models instead of just tragedies of the past. Depressing much? Giles did try and teach her what it meant to be a Slayer and a hero, but then again, she also managed to surprise and teach him about that, too. The power balance between her and Giles set their relationship apart from that of his with the others.
She watched as Giles used his hands to gesture and discuss a bit of a demon problem that needed attention in Egypt and smiled a little despite the danger-y topic. A warmth settled in her stomach at the thought of Dawn being escorted in a white dress down the aisle by Giles. It felt more right than their own father taking on that honored task, not only because of how little their dad had done to deserve that role still, but also how much Giles had done to earn that job. She’d have to pull him aside after the meeting and give him a heads up in case Dawn brought it up anytime soon. It would be just like Dawn to take Giles’ surprise at the request as hesitation. Maybe she’d ask him to have lunch with her today.
Another question popped into Buffy’s head without her permission: would Buffy want Giles to walk her down the aisle? Buffy could imagine the white dress--something with a detachable skirt in case something needs slaying--with a long veil and a delicate bouquet… pale pink flowers, she supposed. She’d forego the stuffy traditional wedding march, maybe pick something soft like one of the songs her mom sang to her as a child. The groom--she didn't even bother to open that Pandora's box of thoughts.
She could imagine a lot of details for her hypothetical wedding, but somehow, Buffy couldn’t picture Giles leading her to the altar. She couldn’t really picture her dad doing it either, but that was beside the point. Maybe Xander? The thought was actually quite pleasant to Buffy and she liked the idea of one of her best friends that’d been with her for so many years giving her away to be united with her husband.
So why couldn’t she imagine Giles filling that role? She asked herself in frustration. Willow and Dawn would be her bridesmaids, of course, but where would Giles be? Would he be the officiant? God no, she didn’t really like the idea of Giles holding a tome on her wedding day, like he was going to read out another shitty prophecy about her dying right there at the altar. So would he be among the seated guests? That didn’t feel right either…
Unbidden, an image of Giles standing there at the altar entered her mind. He’d wear a nicely fitted tux, bowtie and all, with a little flower on the pocket instead of a pocket square. He’d smile wide and without restraint, hands folded in front of him. Buffy would smile unabashedly right back-
Giles continued addressing the others around the table and no one seemed to notice Buffy having an aneurysm as her brain finally caught up to the thoughts running through it. God, was she going crazy? Was she imagining Giles as her groom? Giles? Rupert Giles? Wow. Of all the guys she could imagine in those shoes, her mind jumped to him. Maybe it was because her relationships ended on notes that resolved things to allow her any ‘what if’s, but that was not necessarily true either. Riley, sure, since they obviously weren’t made for each other--and he was married now. A marriage with Spike would no doubt end in an apocalypse, and that’s one Doomsday she didn’t think could be resolved bloodlessly, which puts a damper on any kind of happy ceremony. Maybe Angel? No, even that was as good as dusted. Sure, they loved each other and Buffy would come to Angel’s aid if dire, but they’d grown in very different directions since being together. Even if the whole Angelus curse were not a problem, Buffy knew they never really worked unless they were suffering together and she didn’t want something like that, especially in marriage.
Is that why her mind jumped to Giles? Process of elimination? Even as she considered that explanation, it felt like an insult to the man across the table from her. Giles had any number of qualities that women would kill for in a husband. He was strong and dependable, which is a must in any marriage, Buffy supposed. She watched while he nodded along to a Watcher voicing their concerns regarding one of the graduates. He was attentive, too. And he was… she watched him tilt his head a little as he took a breath to answer the other Watcher… handsome. Oh, god, he was ridiculously attractive with an air of refinement and precision--and she had to admit that he pulled off that dark blue button-up very well. Especially with the sleeves rolled up…
“Buffy?” Giles startled Buffy out of her thoughts before they could venture further out into the dangerous unknown. Like how easily those arms could dip her during a first dance…
“Yes?” she asked, clearing her throat and sitting up more fully. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”
“I was explaining the conversation we had on Monday regarding your hesitations in pairing Ms. Ranalli and Mr. Brooks in their training,” Giles prompted, taking a second to study Buffy’s lack of attention and nervous mannerisms.
“Right.” Buffy squared her shoulders and turned a page in her notes. “While Natalia and Freddy share many perspectives and personality traits, their work ethics are also very similar--and not great, honestly. They would totally get on fine, but that doesn’t mean we want two graduates so comfortable with themselves put together. Really, our goal is to get teams that can work well together, but we also want them to challenge each other and grow…”
Buffy started to relax as she discussed the much more known and safe topics of slaying and death and allowed her sudden acknowledgement of Giles' finer qualities slip from her mind. Although, the thoughts stubbornly held on, making Buffy hyper-aware of every shift and movement Giles made across from her. God, she was in trouble... so much trouble.
***
Even though he tried to pay attention to the rest of the meeting, Giles found himself glancing back to Buffy every few minutes. Unless in meetings with droning diplomats, Buffy hardly ever drifted away like she had earlier in the meeting. It made him wonder if something worried her enough that she could not focus on her favorite type of meetings—and anything that distracted her from her 'match making' as she called it must be truly terrible. Or perhaps extremely trivial, Giles supposed, as he could never truly tell the difference with her. He knew he'd have to ask her about it after the meeting and he tried to pay attention as she fielded questions effortlessly, but now he couldn’t help but oscillate between curiosity regarding the diplomatic dinner tomorrow night and worry that something could be wrong with Buffy or Dawn or any other number of persons about which he cared.
When the meeting finally ended, a few people started conversations with Giles and the only thing that prevented him from brushing them off was the smile Buffy gave him from where she leaned against the doorframe to the room, making it clear that she also intended to speak with him. How a simple smile could offer so much radiance baffled Giles every time, but he did not fight the warmth that pooled in the middle of his chest as he gave her a small smile and nod before turning his attention—or most of it, at least—to those attempting to speak with him. When he finally escaped, Giles hastily bid his farewells and gestured for Buffy to exit first, placing his hand in the middle of her back as he guided her down the hall towards the elevators, and he noticed she was tense.
"Are you alright?" he asked when the last of his patience wore thin.
"Yeah, yeah." Buffy blinked and frowned. "I'm totally fine, why?"
"You just seemed... " he chose his words carefully. "...distracted in there."
Buffy blushed and he had to monitor his own expressions to hide his disbelief and worry. Buffy never blushed, and she never acted nervous unless things were truly dire. "I'm fine, I just have things on my mind.."
“A penny for your thoughts?” He inquired, taking a deep breath before forging on. “Or lunch?”
Buffy’s eyes shot up to meet him and Giles felt his heart plummet, much akin to how it felt to drive the vehicle that catches a deer in its headlights. Did he say something wrong? Was he too forward? His agitation built and he was seconds away from apologizing--for what? He couldn’t say, but the apology was on the tip of his tongue when she suddenly blinked and nodded. She asked him to wait for her in the lobby while she went and grabbed her coat and purse. And then she smiled at him, and it was so radiant that a dizzy feeling much unlike moments before flooded him. Like any gentleman would, Giles knew he should’ve accompanied her, but his poor heart had already trapezed all about his stomach and chest and he couldn’t honestly say he could handle more.
Running a shaky hand along his brow, Giles focused on breathing for a moment. Even as a Slayer who has defeated the greatest evils to have threatened the world in recent years, Buffy didn’t know that her most powerful weapon against him was her smile. And her eyes. She had always been very pretty, but Giles suspected she didn't notice the way that gazes followed her or breaths turned shallow at the sound of her laugh. Buffy often left those in her presence enraptured, and he was far from immune.
Now, if only he knew what preoccupied her mind...
***
It took the entire elevator ride up and the journey to her office for Buffy to calm her racing heart. Really-- not even a vamp of a demon ever got her that amped up. It’d barely been an hour since the idea of Romance Giles popped into her head, and Buffy was already getting butterflies that read a solid 9.0 on the Richter Scale. She couldn’t remember having nerves like those since the early days with Angel, back when he was still the mystery-guy that gave her random tips in alleyways.
But Giles was no mystery guy. He was Giles. Solid, dependable. He had a far more nuanced past than she initially thought back at age fifteen, but his honesty with her was an undeniable positive in their relationship, ever since her eighteenth birthday. Before learning he was a vampire, Angel had been a pretty simple guy, but that has never been Giles in her book, and he never would be either. And perhaps that’s what scared Buffy the most: she knew Giles almost as well as she knew herself, and just his eyes on her gave her flutters in her gut.
She needed to pull herself together. Just because she had a morning of revelations did not mean that Giles would understand why she was blushing and stuttering every time he looked her way. It was just lunch. Buffy and Giles lunch. They did that all the time, why should she freak? This was a totally non-freak situation. Sure, his smile turned her insides a little gooey, but she could deal.
Downstairs, he greeted her with a smile and Buffy tried to imagine a brick wall lining her gut, even while her insides felt a lot more like molten lava. Thankfully, they walked to lunch, which meant she could face forward and worry less about prolonged eye contact. Giles spoke of an interesting Egyptian artifact an old colleague recently reached out to him regarding, and Buffy gave the occasional quip or nod to show she was listening—which she was. In the last few years, Buffy started actually finding herself interested in that sort of stuff. Turned out, if nothing was trying to kill people or ruin her weekend plans, she actually enjoyed archeology and ancient antiquities. In part, it made her nostalgic about her mom's work, but it also became a way she could connect more with Giles. In the last year or so, she had managed to hold a number of conversations with him regarding ancient art and culture, when in the past, their historical conversations never veered too far from weaponry or curses. Sometimes she liked to imagine that, if slaying never knocked on her door, she could have gone for a career in archeology. Afterall, what was history if not simply dated gossip?
This, of course, led Buffy's attention to drift as she imagined meeting Giles on an excavation of ruins. She imagined shaking his hand and admiring his grin in the hot sun. He'd be sweaty and have the sleeves of his shirt rolled up deliciously... Actually, maybe he'd skip out on the whole shirt business altogether...
"Buffy?" Giles called from across the little table. "Are you ready to order?"
“Huh? Oh.” Buffy blinked her fantasies of The Mummy: Giles Edition out of her thoughts and sheepishly smiled to the waitress. It wasn’t the first time they’d eaten there, so she ordered quickly and busied herself with her napkin to avoid daydreaming again.
“Is there something on your mind?” Giles asked so gently and kindly that Buffy just wanted to rush out and say everything she was thinking.
I’m realizing that I find you extremely attractive. I can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to kiss you senseless. Actually, maybe you should kiss me senseless. I don’t think I can imagine a future with anyone but you. Today, I imagined us getting married. I love-
“Dawn wants you to walk her down the aisle at her wedding,” she told him instead.
Giles choked on his sip of water. It took nearly a minute for him to catch his breath and Buffy, with her eyebrows raised, realized it’s a good thing she didn’t say any of the other things she was thinking.
“That wouldn’t be an imminent threat, would it?” He finally asked between haggard breaths.
Buffy smirked and rested her chin on her palm. “No, it’s not. That was my first question, too. She just brought it up and I thought I’d give you some forewarning so that reaction isn’t what you give her when she drops it on ya.”
“Yes, I can see that going poorly.” Giles grimaced at the mental image. “And what conversation could possibly bring up such things as the details of the wedding procession for Dawn’s wedding— that we all certainly agree will not occur anytime soon?”
“Dad’s not making it for her birthday.”
Giles glowered at her words but otherwise said nothing. Buffy didn’t need his words regardless, she already knew well the contempt Giles held for Hank Summers. It was a contempt that he has long made known for the man, which came to a poignant head not long after the destruction of Sunnydale. Giles had gone to lengths to get in contact with Hank Summers about Joyce’s death, only to be met with nearly no response (and no indication that the man actually wanted to speak with either of his daughters). When Buffy defeated Glory at the price of her life, Giles couldn’t reach Hank Summers at all. It was only when the Sunnydale ‘sinkhole’ hit national news that he finally reached out, and Giles was livid.
When Hank came to Cleveland and essentially demanded that Dawn live under his guardianship, Buffy had been too scared to do much. After defeating the First Evil, the more mundane nightmares of the world, like losing custody of her sister, were foreign and untouchable. Giles held no reservations and made it clear to Hank exactly what he thought of him and his threats. No one in the house they commandeered while making arrangements to go to England could say they didn’t hear Giles tear Hank Summers down to a pile of rubble.
It reminded Buffy of when Giles confronted Willow after the resurrection spell, except Giles always cared about Willow, and Hank Summers never held his affections. Hank left that day without Dawn, but did promise to pay for any schooling needs Dawn accrued in the future. Needless to say, there is no love lost between Hank Summers and Rupert Giles.
Giles muttered a few choice words under his breath and Buffy grinned when she caught a couple of them. When Giles noticed her amusement, his anger was eclipsed by his sheepish smile (which definitely did not send her insides for a spin). “Sorry,” he offered before giving a concerned frown. “Do you need to take holiday to visit New York?”
Warmth fizzled in her chest. That’s exactly what she wanted to do before Dawn told her no. Giles understood her so well, no wonder she could see him with such startling clarity at the altar. There was a certain intimacy in being known. She’d always been able to rely on him to know her--and she gave him grace for her teenage years.
“No, I already asked Dawn and she said it’s okay since she’s visiting next month,” Buffy answered warmly, enjoying the sight of Giles shyly removing his glasses to clean them. Had she made him nervous in some way? “But thank you.”
“Of course, Buffy,” he glanced up from his glasses at her with his brows raised. “Is that all that’s been bothering you?”
“Oh, um,” Buffy blushed and looked away. “It’s nothing…”
Oh, god, she needed to think of something to say! Anything! Except what she was really thinking about. That couldn’t be shared under any circumstances. They had worked so hard to build up their relationship again and their council was quite literally built upon that relationship. It wouldn’t do to throw these sudden realizations on him or make things weird. Perhaps the idea of them getting hitched stemmed from her fear of ever losing him? But her love for him didn’t. No, that’s always been there, tinting her glasses so to speak.
“Is it the dinner party tomorrow night?” Giles inquired. “I know you find those tedious at times.”
A perfect segue to a new topic, Buffy mused. “I’ve been dodging Mr. Anouilh’s calls all week,” she shared truthfully. “I just know he’s going to try and corner me tomorrow.”
“Would you like reinforcements?” he asked before hesitating with a stutter. “Un-unless, of course, you, uh, already have a plus one.”
“No,” she breathed, blinking herself out of her stupor. “I don’t have a plus one. And, and I’d love that.”
“Alright, then.” He smiled brightly and her heart lurched so violently in that moment, it’s a wonder she wasn't thrown out of her chair.
“Alright,” she echoed with a smile of her own.
“Sh-should we leave from your flat?” He inquired with a forced casual air that didn’t quite reach his shoulders. Hmmm, he has nice shoulders…
“Um,” Buffy cleared her throat while trying to redirect her thoughts away from things that would set her back down her earlier archeological rabbit trail. “I was going to get ready in my office and then take a car to the French embassy.”
“Lovely, I can drive us if you’d prefer?”
“I would, funny enough. I always feel bad making the driver wait until I can get out of there.”
Giles smiled one of those private smiles that told her he was appreciating something small but significant. Buffy was an expert on Giles-expressions and that one never failed to make her feel special. It also made it harder for her to keep the star-struck feeling from reaching her eyes.
“It’s a date then,” he said and flashed her another smile. He stood and put on his coat before turning and gesturing for her coat off her chair. Buffy’s heart found a new home in her throat as he held the coat open for her to wear, her lungs ceasing to exist as he gently gathered her hair to pull it out from under the coat’s heavy collar.
Oh, she thought as she fought back tears. This was what it was to be cared for and cherished. She’d been loved and desired plenty of times prior, but no one ever managed to make her feel like the One Girl in All the World quite like her Watcher. Wrapping her arm around his as they left to return to work, Buffy silently vowed to make sure he felt just as loved.
***
Giles stood promptly at the door to Buffy’s office at 6:45 pm, just as they had agreed. The only issue was that he hadn’t knocked yet. He had knocked on the same door a thousand times, so why couldn’t he at that moment? Every time he raised his fist, a little lurch in his chest drug from his sternum to his collarbone, halting him entirely. In frustration, he would drop his arm to his side with a huff and prepare himself to act again.
Don’t be such a child, he chided himself before finally holding his breath and knocking on the door—twice, firmly. Like a man.
Buffy gave a quick word of greeting, telling him to come in and he opened the door, only for his heart to lurch as it never had before at the sight of her. It really didn’t matter how many times he had seen her dolled up for bureaucratic dinners, she never failed to stun him with her beauty.
Buffy stood at a vanity mirror at the far wall of her office, putting on her earrings. Her hair was styled prettily over one shoulder, accentuating her elegant and glittery strapless evening gown that reached to the floor, just shy of pooling in a black puddle around her feet. Buffy wasted no time employing a tailor once she began getting Council pay checks—something that Giles found very sensible, not to mention quite pleasing to the eyes. She sent him a smile before securing her second earring and Giles forgot to breathe.
God, I love you, he thought.
“You look dashing,” Buffy informed him with a sparking grin. “I’m almost ready. Mind zipping me up the rest of the way?”
Buffy turned her back to him and Giles noted that her dress didn’t quite connect at the top two inches in the back, instead leaving even more of a “v” at the small of her back. He clenched his fists to keep them from trembling as he approached. She smelled very pleasant, like equally subtle hints of citrus and vanilla. It was the scent he had long associated with his Slayer. Always present under the blood and sweat and dust often encountered in their line of work.
Giles was careful not to touch her skin as he zipped up her dress, noting the way goosebumps formed along her shoulders as his breath puffed there. Upon connecting the hook and eye at the top of her zipper, he couldn’t resist brushing his thumb just once along the inch or two of spine above her dress. Her muscles flexed under his touch and Giles’ heart thumped painfully against his rib cage.
Finally, after an eternity of silence, she turned to look at him. He could have sworn her eyes were searching him, but perhaps that was just his own foolish wishes, or maybe her perfume was intoxicating him. That was probably it.
“You look stunning,” he mumbled quietly. They were standing far too close for more than a whisper and Giles praised the proximity as her dainty fingers—so strong, so glorious—glided slowly up from his stomach, tracing his lapel before reaching to adjust his bow tie.
“I always liked you in a tux,” she murmured in reply before clearing her throat and stepping away to grab her bag and fur shawl from her desk. “Ready?”
He cleared his throat as well, ducking his head. “Yes, of course.”
God help him, she would kill him before the end of the night, he was sure of it.
***
Leaving for the banquet from the office was a terrible idea, Buffy was sure of it. How was she going to hide her butterflies from all the others in the office while getting escorted by Giles? The others were supposed to respect her, and yet she was pretty convinced all they would see was a blushing school girl!
Of course, who could blame her for such a reaction when he looked oh-so-dreamy in a tux? She remembered the blatant “wow” that had echoed through her thoughts the first time she had seen him in a tux back before her high school graduation. It was a wonder that it was only now, all these years later that she was beginning to understand just how completely the man at her side owned her heart.
If it was anyone else, she’d probably be hiding at home in the fetal position at the thought, but she trusted Giles. As he escorted her through the lobby, her hand tucked in his elbow gently, all she could imagine was how gently he would also care for her heart—just as he had for years already.
Hopefully she didn’t look too smitten.
***
Most employees of the Council had returned home for the night, but those still clocking hours fought hard to keep their faces neutral, void of any smirks or raised brows. Perhaps the heads of their organization thought themselves sly, but nothing could hide their heated blushes or longing glances taken when the other wasn’t looking.
A few employees were even eager for these new developments. Mr. Giles and Ms. Summers had been exchanging covert glances for ages and plenty of employees tested their luck with wages regarding how long it would take those two to finally be a couple. Some had frustratingly lost their bets long before, and the betting pool was pretty robust at that point. A select few were quite excited to notice that the loving looks between the two targets appeared far less unconscious than before. Neither seemed aware of the other’s attention, but it was only a matter of time…
***
The French embassy boasted tall stone walls, elaborate chandeliers, and a stately ballroom within. While there was a sizable ball room, the rest of the rooms teemed with tables of food and drinks, and plenty of diplomats to corner whatever unfortunate person of influence or power that stopped to try the shrimp. Thankfully, Buffy attended enough of these events that most of the cultures knew better than to hound her, mostly because it wouldn’t get them anywhere if she had already said no to one of their requests regarding her Slayers.
Still, Mr. Anouilh was nothing if not persistent and persistently annoying. Dealing with the French was bad enough at a regular event, but something about being on their own “soil” in England gave them extra audacity while in conversation.
A few minutes earlier, some more politically influential academics pulled Giles aside. It was a conversation he truly seemed eager to discuss, so Buffy left him to it, not wanting her zoning out from the talk make him feel like he needed to leave it. If anything, she just liked the way his upper body fully engaged in conversation if he enjoyed the topic enough.
This led her to the table of champagne flutes, which was a mistake as Mr. Anouilh must have been hiding behind the enormous potted fern beside the table, waiting to pop out and bug any unsuspecting Slayer in the embassy. Like Buffy.
“Ms. Summers,” he greeted in an overly simpering—and yet, impressively, still self-important—tone.
The dance was always the same with Anouilh. He represented the interests of many many (undisclosed exactly what number) very rich (undisclosed how rich) and influential (undisclosed how influential) men in the French government (undisclosed… you get the point). And it would just be such a good and worthwhile thing if Buffy lent some nice, strong slayers to play bodyguard for them. Buffy turned down the first request sometime between when he admitted that there were no actual supernatural threats to any of these men, and when he suggested the slayers pretend to be dates for these men. No matter how many times Buffy told him that she wouldn’t pimp out her slayers, he would always still find her at the next event they both attended.
How many times had he asked before? Well, let’s just say he was lucky that Buffy knew better than to punch a French guy on their own soil.
About halfway through his regular monologue, awareness prickled along Buffy’s spine, moments before she felt Giles’ hand slide along her lower back. She tried to not be so obvious as she leaned into his warm touch, but his fingers still flexed along her side as he came up beside her.
“Mr. Anouilh,” Giles interrupted firmly. “Are you still making the same requests with which Ms. Summers has made it very clear we will not be complying?”
Mr. Anouilh huffed indignantly. “Well, I simply-“
“I believe my partner has told you enough times what we think of you and your clients, but allow me to add what she might have politely withheld before,” Giles leaned toward Anouilh with a very Ripper stare that made her stomach flip as she watched. “If you continue with these asinine and frankly insulting solicitations, you and your clients may one day find yourselves in real danger, and we will still refuse to help.”
Mr. Anouilh’s eyes widened a fraction before anger drew his bushy eyebrows and the corners of his mouth down. He was about to chew out Giles in the middle of the embassy.
“Mr. Giles is not one to make idle threats,” she informed the man. “And I don’t bluff. So you should choose your next words very carefully—or even better, don’t choose any at all.”
Anouilh kept silent, watching the Watcher and Slayer in equal parts anger and disbelief.
“I believe I owe you a dance, Buffy,” Giles turned soft eyes upon her and Buffy felt a blush crawl up her neck pleasantly.
“You bet’cha,” she smirked, allowing him to tuck her arm into his and lead her away without another word to Anouilh.
She practically melded against him as they began to slow dance in the ballroom, her grin electric. “Rupert Giles, you are a god.”
He blushed and smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry for getting involved, I just didn’t think I could handle listening to him objectify our slayers like that. It was bad enough when you’d first told me his outrageous proposition-“
“It’s fine, Giles,” she interrupted, tugging at the hair at his nape a little to get his attention back on her. She liked it when his eyes met her own. God, she had it bad. “Clearly he doesn’t actually listen to women—ew—and you totally scared him with that Ripper stare.” He looked down guiltily and she tugged again. “Hey, I’m not mad. It was hot.”
Giles blinked a few times, lost for words. “H-hot?” He finally sputtered out.
Buffy bit her lip and his eyes darted down to them. She stopped breathing as his gaze darkened, waiting for him to do something. Maybe he just needed a little encouragement.
She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes on him. “Yeah,” she whispered.
They continued to slow dance, seeing nothing about each other. Somehow, after each and every note, they seemed to draw closer together, arms wrapping a little further around each other. Their foreheads met, then the tips of their noses. Buffy could feel his breath on her lips and she parted them in a silent gasp.
His lips brushed hers feather-light before the room erupted in polite applause as the music ended. They broke apart quickly, Buffy pressing her lips together as she tried to breathe, and Giles running a hand through his hair.
Buffy didn’t say anything, watching him intently. He was breathing hard and a flush had crawled up his neck and face. He looked desperate to clean his glasses, but he was wearing contacts for the night. He finally met her eyes and she noticed how wide his pupils were blown. Hers probably looked the same.
“Buffy,” he began, but she shook her head once. He stood there, seemingly unsure of what to do.
But Buffy knew. Or at least, she thought she did.
She grabbed his hand and weaved their way out of the room, leading him down another path with less people before breaking out onto a balcony that overlooked the inner courtyard to the embassy. She only let go once she got a full breath of cold air, gripping the railing as he heart pounded madly in her chest.
“I’m sorry,” she announced out into the courtyard below.
A tired, resigned sigh comes from behind her. “Buffy, it’s fine…”
“No, I’m sorry,” she turned around to tell him more pointedly. “I want Xander to walk me down the aisle.”
“I’m… sorry?”
“I think I’m going to ask Xander to walk me down the aisle.”
Giles frowned, taking forever to catch up and connect her words to their conversation at lunch the day before. Once he realized the topic, he shook his head with some exasperation, likely because of the big subject change.
Well, for him. For Buffy, it was very much the same conversation.
“That’s fine, Buffy, whatever you want.”
“I’m sorry if that complicates things,” she answered, practically begging him to read between the lines.
“Of course not, Buffy, it’s not a problem at all,” Giles replied, turning a little like he intended to return to the event. Buffy stepped closer to him to stop him.
“It wouldn’t be all that conventional, but I’m sure we could have him give me away and still be your best man if that’s what you want.”
“W-what?”
“I mean, if you had someone else in mind, that would be fine, too.” Buffy nodded encouragingly.
Giles looked distressed. “Buffy-“
She panicked. Cue rambling. “I don’t know about Ethan, but I’m sure we could track him down and muzzle him long enough to get through the ceremony at least.”
“Buffy!”
“Of course, you could have an old Watcher friend in mind. Or an Oxford buddy.”
“Buffy! W-what are you going on about?”
Buffy took a deep breath, hand on his arm. “… marry me.” It wasn’t much of a question.
“I… Buffy?”
“I never stopped to think about things long enough, but Dawn brought up you giving her away and it got me thinking. I could place a lot of people I love in my wedding, but I couldn’t place you. My Watcher. My Giles. None of the open positions felt right until I imagined walking down the aisle to you… I love you. I think I have for a really long time.”
“Buffy…” Giles said tenderly. His hand slid up her arm and shoulder to cup behind her ear, studying her face for any lie. He wouldn’t find any.
“Marry me? Pretty please?” She added her pout for extra incentive.
“I think I’m the one that should be begging.”
She smirked. “Well, we both know who’s really in charge here.”
He giggled. “Yes, that’s always been true, hasn’t it?”
Buffy gripped his lapel earnestly. “But it’s not the way I want it. I want you to be my partner. In everything.”
“Is that a proposal? He murmured lowly, making her stomach flip.
“Well, I’ve already done that, though I didn’t hear an answer.” She waited impatiently as he brushed his thumb across her cheek with a widening smile. “Giles!” she whined. “Are you going to make me ask a third time?”
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” he replied with a grin that told her that he knew exactly what she meant. She huffed.
“Rupert Giles. Watcher of mine, love of my life; will you marry me?”
She didn’t get a verbal answer, but the kiss he languished upon her mouth seemed like answer enough. Man, that was a good kiss.
***
Generally speaking, it takes about a month to get married in England, but when you are the head Watcher and Slayer in an organization that offers international security, sometimes all it takes is a few well-placed calls and however long it takes to find a state-appointed registrar still working at 10 pm on a Friday.
So about 3 and a half hours pretty much, leaving the entire rest of the weekend for the honeymoon!
They would have a more formal ceremony with their friends and a real send off on an actual honeymoon later—you know, when they weren’t poised to deal with another impending apocalypse. For the meantime, they were together and that was all that mattered.
And the betting pool was going to get a whole lot more interesting come Monday.