Maybe Next Christmas
Dec. 19th, 2015 06:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptTitle: Maybe Next Christmas
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Rating: G/K
Challenge/Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words Weekend Challenge: Brandy Snaps
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 1,053
Date Written: 19 December, 2015
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
"Buffy, would you do me the pleasure of joining me?"
Buffy looks up in surprise, eyebrows raised at the formal invitation from her Watcher. "Later, B," Faith says and slides away. The others are already gone, returned to class, and Buffy's never one to miss an excuse to skip class. Still, it's odd for Giles to ask for her to join him in training or discussing the latest Big Bad in such a manner.
Her curiosity grows as he doesn't lead her to the very backs of the book cases, where they almost always take their training, far away from any Sunnydale student or teacher who might dare stray from the front of the library, not that happens very often any way in this school. He's not leading her behind the book cases at all but rather into his office behind the desk. "Hum, Giles?" she starts, intending to ask if she's in some kind of trouble for messing up and letting that Vamp escape last night, but then she stops, seeing the little tray of cheeses, meats, and some form of small, brown cookies.
Giles looks up from above the rim of his spectacles where he's pouring a can of her favorite soda into a glass. "I know it is rather inappropriate here in the States, Buffy, but I would very much like to wish you a Happy Christmas."
She grins. "It's not inappropriate at all, Giles." But there's something different about him in this light, in this room, or simply in this moment. The years seem to have somehow slid back on his handsome face. He doesn't look nearly as tired. He looks almost young, and his first name whispers in her mind although she does not use it.
She takes the chair on her side of his desk, accepts her glass when it's offered to her, and moves to clink it against his. The liquid inside his glass is rather dark, but she saw him pour it from his teapot. "To us." Her grin widens, but there's still something shy about it, he notes and hopes, despite her words, he isn't overstepping too many boundaries. "Merry Christmas," she says, and the sentiment washes the thought from his mind with an answering smile.
They eat in silence at first, Buffy, for a change, actually showing some rare table manners. The meat and cheese go down fine, but when she bites into one of the cookies, she starts to cough. Giles moves to help her, but she waves him away. She is the Slayer, after all, he reminds himself; she doesn't need his help. She swallows the bite and smiles. "That's rather, hum, good." He can always tell when she lies. "What are they?"
"Brandy snaps. I -- " He hesitates but finally admits, "I made them myself."
She grabs two more and eats them as though they are the best thing she's bitten into in weeks. He knows it is strictly to please him and lets it, although he does wonder if, perhaps, she doesn't like ginger. He's seen her eat gingerbread men, so he knows that's not the case. Her smiles and compliments, though not truly meant, quickly dissuade his negative feelings. They continue for a while in silence before he attempts to make conversation, "How go your studies?"
"I'm doing okay, but you already know that." She grins again, and it's the most beautiful sight in the world to him, as it always his when she smiles. "With Willow helping on my homework, I always manage to get through each year."
He inclines his head into a nod. "We do owe her a debt of gratitude for that."
"I'm sorry I'm not the best student."
"It's quite all right, Buffy. Saving the world is far more important, and you certainly do more of that than any other Slayer to my recollection."
"Really?"
He nods again. "Indeed." And you've survived longer, too, thank God.
She beams. "You know, I got you something, but I, huh, don't have it with me."
"It's quite all right," he assures, smiling at just the thought of her giving him a gift. He looks at the small, wrapped present sitting on the floor beside his foot and edges it further underneath his desk. Now is not the time, and he will not allow himself to dwell on the fact that there may never be a right time. After all, whereas this meeting may only be slightly inappropriate, the way he has come to feel about his beautiful, bright, and amazing Slayer is very, very much inappropriate. He will not darken her days with thoughts of affection he knows she does not want.
She stabs the last piece of sausage with her fork, and he tries not to watch her mouth as she slides the meat between her lips. They both look up when the bell rings again. "That was fast," Buffy mutters aloud before she can stop herself. Giles restrains from commenting that it was far too fast. "I, hum, I guess I should go. I've got a test this period; I think Will's got me ready for it."
"I am certain she does. By all means, do go ace it -- "
"I'll pass it," she says, grabbing her bag. "Don't know about acing," she mutters, opening for the door.
"Buffy?" he calls, and she pauses in his doorway. He doesn't see the pleading look in her eyes as he settles for, "Do have a happy Christmas."
She grins reassuringly at him. "We'll see each other again before then, Giles," she says, and then she's gone.
Rupert allows himself to slump at his desk as a sigh escapes him. He reaches down, picks up the present he'd intended to give her, opens the bottom drawer of his desk, puts in to his hiding place, and locks the drawer. Standing erect once more, he straightens himself, reminds himself again of his proper place and position in this school and in her life, and leaves his office, and the present, behind.
Green eyes peer out, unseen by both Slayer and Watcher, from behind the nearest book case. Willow places the thick book she's been holding back into its place and sighs. She shakes her head as she thinks they never noticed the mistletoe she convinced Oz to hang in the doorway of Giles' office. Her friends are so close to being happy, and yet so far. Maybe next Christmas.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Rating: G/K
Challenge/Prompt:
1_million_words Weekend Challenge: Brandy SnapsWarning(s): None
Word Count: 1,053
Date Written: 19 December, 2015
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
"Buffy, would you do me the pleasure of joining me?"
Buffy looks up in surprise, eyebrows raised at the formal invitation from her Watcher. "Later, B," Faith says and slides away. The others are already gone, returned to class, and Buffy's never one to miss an excuse to skip class. Still, it's odd for Giles to ask for her to join him in training or discussing the latest Big Bad in such a manner.
Her curiosity grows as he doesn't lead her to the very backs of the book cases, where they almost always take their training, far away from any Sunnydale student or teacher who might dare stray from the front of the library, not that happens very often any way in this school. He's not leading her behind the book cases at all but rather into his office behind the desk. "Hum, Giles?" she starts, intending to ask if she's in some kind of trouble for messing up and letting that Vamp escape last night, but then she stops, seeing the little tray of cheeses, meats, and some form of small, brown cookies.
Giles looks up from above the rim of his spectacles where he's pouring a can of her favorite soda into a glass. "I know it is rather inappropriate here in the States, Buffy, but I would very much like to wish you a Happy Christmas."
She grins. "It's not inappropriate at all, Giles." But there's something different about him in this light, in this room, or simply in this moment. The years seem to have somehow slid back on his handsome face. He doesn't look nearly as tired. He looks almost young, and his first name whispers in her mind although she does not use it.
She takes the chair on her side of his desk, accepts her glass when it's offered to her, and moves to clink it against his. The liquid inside his glass is rather dark, but she saw him pour it from his teapot. "To us." Her grin widens, but there's still something shy about it, he notes and hopes, despite her words, he isn't overstepping too many boundaries. "Merry Christmas," she says, and the sentiment washes the thought from his mind with an answering smile.
They eat in silence at first, Buffy, for a change, actually showing some rare table manners. The meat and cheese go down fine, but when she bites into one of the cookies, she starts to cough. Giles moves to help her, but she waves him away. She is the Slayer, after all, he reminds himself; she doesn't need his help. She swallows the bite and smiles. "That's rather, hum, good." He can always tell when she lies. "What are they?"
"Brandy snaps. I -- " He hesitates but finally admits, "I made them myself."
She grabs two more and eats them as though they are the best thing she's bitten into in weeks. He knows it is strictly to please him and lets it, although he does wonder if, perhaps, she doesn't like ginger. He's seen her eat gingerbread men, so he knows that's not the case. Her smiles and compliments, though not truly meant, quickly dissuade his negative feelings. They continue for a while in silence before he attempts to make conversation, "How go your studies?"
"I'm doing okay, but you already know that." She grins again, and it's the most beautiful sight in the world to him, as it always his when she smiles. "With Willow helping on my homework, I always manage to get through each year."
He inclines his head into a nod. "We do owe her a debt of gratitude for that."
"I'm sorry I'm not the best student."
"It's quite all right, Buffy. Saving the world is far more important, and you certainly do more of that than any other Slayer to my recollection."
"Really?"
He nods again. "Indeed." And you've survived longer, too, thank God.
She beams. "You know, I got you something, but I, huh, don't have it with me."
"It's quite all right," he assures, smiling at just the thought of her giving him a gift. He looks at the small, wrapped present sitting on the floor beside his foot and edges it further underneath his desk. Now is not the time, and he will not allow himself to dwell on the fact that there may never be a right time. After all, whereas this meeting may only be slightly inappropriate, the way he has come to feel about his beautiful, bright, and amazing Slayer is very, very much inappropriate. He will not darken her days with thoughts of affection he knows she does not want.
She stabs the last piece of sausage with her fork, and he tries not to watch her mouth as she slides the meat between her lips. They both look up when the bell rings again. "That was fast," Buffy mutters aloud before she can stop herself. Giles restrains from commenting that it was far too fast. "I, hum, I guess I should go. I've got a test this period; I think Will's got me ready for it."
"I am certain she does. By all means, do go ace it -- "
"I'll pass it," she says, grabbing her bag. "Don't know about acing," she mutters, opening for the door.
"Buffy?" he calls, and she pauses in his doorway. He doesn't see the pleading look in her eyes as he settles for, "Do have a happy Christmas."
She grins reassuringly at him. "We'll see each other again before then, Giles," she says, and then she's gone.
Rupert allows himself to slump at his desk as a sigh escapes him. He reaches down, picks up the present he'd intended to give her, opens the bottom drawer of his desk, puts in to his hiding place, and locks the drawer. Standing erect once more, he straightens himself, reminds himself again of his proper place and position in this school and in her life, and leaves his office, and the present, behind.
Green eyes peer out, unseen by both Slayer and Watcher, from behind the nearest book case. Willow places the thick book she's been holding back into its place and sighs. She shakes her head as she thinks they never noticed the mistletoe she convinced Oz to hang in the doorway of Giles' office. Her friends are so close to being happy, and yet so far. Maybe next Christmas.
The End
