 |
Title: Castaways 7/16 A short time later, the pair decided it was time for bed. Giles told Buffy she could have the lone sleeping bag to herself, but she wouldn't hear of it. "It's a lot colder tonight than it was last night and there's plenty of room. Besides," she smiled wickedly, "you can keep my feet warm." "How do you know my feet aren't cold?" "I don't, but I guess I'll find out tonight." Giles sighed. "You really are determined in this, aren't you?" "I'm not gonna let you freeze just because I'm a girl and you're...not. That would be dumb." "You can say it, you know. I'm a man." "I know that." "Yes, but you never acknowledge it." "Okay. You're a man. I said it." "And perhaps one day you'll say it as if you understand what that means." "I think somebody spent way too much time with Anya back in Sunnydale. Look, I know you're a guy. It's just not big a deal with us." "I just don't want you to be upset if...well, if I react like a man when we share sleeping facilities." "Do you plan to try anything if that happens?" "No." "Then I won't break your arm." "Thank you so much." Buffy sighed at his huffy tone. "Look, Giles, what I'm trying to say here is that I trust you. And I don't want us to keep on being a million miles apart when we're right next to each other. I need a friend tonight and if you go all hyper- repressive on me, I really don't have a lot of other choices here. Could we please take down some of the barriers?" Giles nodded and went to his luggage. "Then let's get changed and get some sleep." He pulled out some sleepwear and retired behind some bushes to change and allow Buffy some privacy to do the same. A few minutes later, he emerged when Buffy called to say she was changed. He found her already in the makeshift tent and ensconced in the sleeping bag. Her eyes went wide when she saw him. "Giles?" she choked out. "Is that all you're wearing?" She couldn't seem to look away from his bare chest with the light covering of tawny curls. He looked down at his striped cotton pajama pants. "What's wrong with this? It's perfectly decent." "You're...you're topless!" "Yes. Some men prefer to sleep that way, especially in a warm climate." "But...I mean...will you put a shirt on, already?" "You said you trusted me, Buffy. You said you wanted the barriers down." "But some barriers are good. Clothes barriers." "It's not as if you didn't see me this morning at the stream." "That was an accident. This is on purpose." "Consider it payback for all those times in the beginning when you decided to patrol wearing heart attack-inducing mini skirts and skimpy singlets. This is how I dress to sleep. Now, do you still want me to come in or shall I make other arrangements?" "Payback, huh? If I'd known it was going to be this expensive, maybe I would have worn jeans back then." She opened the sleeping bag. "Okay, get in. I'll deal." "How very brave of you," Giles observed as he slid in next to Buffy. ***** At first the two lay apart with as much room between them as Buffy could manufacture. As she relaxed into sleep, however, she moved closer to him. Moments after her even breaths told Giles she was asleep, Buffy was again burrowed against his chest with an arm wrapped around his middle. This time he didn't fight it. He pulled her snugly into his arms and held her as close as he dared. She made a contented sound and rubbed her cheek against his chest. His body's reaction was swift and emphatic. He groaned ruefully and tried to pull away. The result was just as fruitless as the night before. "I'm going to bloody kill you, Ethan Rayne," he muttered under his breath. ***** Buffy woke first the next morning. At first, she was confused by the feel of crisp hairs tickling her cheek. Then came the momentary panic at the realization that she was pinned by a pair of strong arms. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. She willed herself to stay still and properly assess the situation before reacting. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Giles. She was still with Giles. Alone with Giles. Alone with a half naked Giles. A half naked sleeping Giles who she now realized was every bit as male as he claimed to be. Buffy knew she ought to find a way to pull quietly out of his arms and sneak away so he could have his dignity when he woke. But he felt so good. Her fingers developed minds of their own and explored the honey colored curls on his chest. Giles made a happy murmuring sound in his sleep and pulled her hips closer to his. Buffy's eyes widened, then closed as the familiar ache began to spread through her belly. "No wonder Mom couldn't stop thinking about that band candy thing," she muttered nervously. As clearly as Buffy knew she needed to find a way to escape before Giles woke and caught her, she couldn't seem to stop herself. One hand softly moved its way down Giles' chest, across his belly where the hair narrowed to a fine line, then veered away from its destination at the last moment to explore the hollow of his hip. Her hand stilled. She couldn't do this. Buffy wriggled gently out of Giles' arms and slipped out of the tent. She headed for the stream. She needed a cold shower - and fast. When she got to the banks of the stream, Buffy pulled her clothes off as quickly as she could. Before she got into the cool water, she inspected as much of her body as she could see without a mirror. She hadn't thought much about her appearance lately. Or rather, she had, but not in terms of making the most of herself. And Giles was right. She was too skinny. Her complexion had taken on a sallow tint that had never been there before. And what had she been thinking when she cut her hair? She'd been thinking of Spike. She'd done all of this deliberately so Spike wouldn't want her and she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. It hadn't worked. All it had done was make her mousy so nobody else looked at her in the street. It made her disappear. It was the closest thing she could have to being dead. "So I pull a disappearing act and spend all my time screwing a corpse. Morbid much?" She waded out into the water and thought about what it had been like to wake up next to Spike. His body was cold, his skin slightly slick. He'd bullied her and belittled her. Plus there was the whole ashtray breath issue. She compared that to waking up next to Giles. Okay, so he hadn't been awake, but his body was warm from it's own circulatory system, and he felt comfortable. She knew that if he had woken before she slipped away he would have been a perfect gentleman. He would have wished her a good morning, and maybe asked how she'd slept as he distanced himself so she wouldn't have to feel his... Buffy groaned. She couldn't possibly want that. But she couldn't deny the tension she felt. Maybe it was just a reaction to feeling Giles' standard morning hard on. Didn't most guys get that whether there was somebody there or not? Just because he wanted sex didn't mean he wanted it with her, anyway. Still, the thought of it made warmth spread through her body until she needed to touch herself. After all, she hadn't had sex in a few days. Waking up in any man's arms was enough to remind her body of how much it wanted to be touched. The fact that the man she'd woken up to was alive and warm only intensified the feeling. Her fingers began to stroke gently at her sides as she remembered how good warm, strong hands felt traveling over her skin. Her nipples tightened into hard knots as her hands moved to cup her breasts. She imagined large, male fingers rolling her nipples, pinching them softly until they became unbearably erect. The man in her fantasy remained hazy, but his hands were large and warm and strong. He was tall - she liked tall men who made her feel petite and feminine - and he would be passionate yet he would treat her like something precious. He would know exactly where to touch her and when she was ready for it. And speaking of ready... She continued to caress and fondle her nipples with one hand as the other traveled down the soft skin of her belly. Her sex ached for a loving touch. She ran her fingers through the downy curls, smiling at the warm, stickiness that met them. She gently parted the lips and stroked the rigid bump of her clitoris. A tiny gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as she rubbed herself in a soft, circular motion. Buffy felt her hips begin to sway involuntarily in rhythm with her finger. Her mind filled with images of her fantasy lover touching her, whispering in his cultured tones how much he loved to make her feel this way, laying her down and pressing himself to her. Her moans became louder as her finger moved faster, more insistently, against her clitoris. Her breath came in tiny pants. She could feel every muscle in her belly and thighs tense. She bucked frantically against her own hand. So close, so very close. When she found her release, Buffy gave a full-throated yell. Nothing since her return from the grave had felt so good, so right. She continued to touch herself as waves of pleasure washed over her from head to toe. When the final pulse ended, she rubbed herself softly once more. Then she pulled her hand from between her thighs and stroked her belly and up to her breasts. She smiled as the warmth suffused her body. She could still feel the care and gentle passion of her imaginary lover. Turning her face to the morning sun, Buffy let it wash over her entire being. At last, it was good to be alive. She laughed out loud and submerged herself in the clear, azure water. "Buffy! Buffy! Are you all right?" Buffy stood and turned toward the voice. Giles stood on the bank, still in his pajama pants, and frankly stared. He suddenly dropped his gaze. "I'm okay," she laughed. "What the hell were you yelling for, then?" "Because I'm okay, Giles. Sorry I wigged you. And what are you staring at the ground for?" Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do realize that you're exposing yourself to me, don't you?" Buffy looked down at herself. Her breasts were, indeed, above the water line. She bent her knees and brought up her arms to cover herself. "Oops. Sorry, Giles," she giggled. "Just consider it tit for tat. I mean you already showed me yours, double standard guy." Giles put his hands on his hips and glared. "Don't think you're too old for me to put you over my knee, young lady." "I'm twenty one, Giles. I'm too old to be put over anyone's knee if I don't want to be. Stuffy." For one awful moment, Buffy thought she might have gone too far. Giles went pale for a second. Then he recovered himself and began to laugh. "What's so funny?" Buffy demanded. "You. This is the Buffy I remember. It's just...I've missed you so much." "I missed you, too, Giles. I even missed me when I remembered to. And it's okay if you still miss her too." "I do, sometimes." "Me too. I miss them all; all the ones I couldn't save. Or didn't." "You can't save everyone, Buffy. It isn't possible." "Maybe not. But maybe I can try." She readjusted her arms to cover herself more fully. "And maybe you could leave a girl in peace to finish her swim. This conversation's too heavy to have with me naked." Giles stood frozen for an endless second. His brain prodded him to go away, but he couldn't move. At last he shook himself and addressed Buffy. "Of course. I'll see you back at camp when you've finished. I imagine it will be at least a few minutes, yes?" "A few." Giles turned to leave. He'd only gotten a couple steps when he turned back. "Oh, and Buffy? If you give me another turn like that one, I will turn you over my knee." "Yeah, yeah. Promises, promises," Buffy teased. "Go away. I'll see you in a few." As he left, Giles heard Buffy laughing again. He decided it was the sweetest music he'd heard in ages.
*****
|
