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Title: A Mile In His Moccasins 6/26 When she got to her room, Buffy began to undress for bed. She put the glasses on her nightstand and pulled the oversized sweater over her head. A tee shirt followed that, leaving her naked from the waist up. She stopped for a moment. Giles had taken a whole shower. That meant he'd probably seen her naked. Shouldn't she get the same chance to see him? She ignored the voice in her head that told her Giles wouldn't have looked at all and if he did it was purely in the interest of cleanliness. After all, he'd been flustered and obviously uninterested when she'd accidentally sounded like she was propositioning him. She hadn't meant it like that. Really, she hadn't. But did he have to be so grossed out by the idea? Well, fine. If he'd had a laugh at her body, she was going to have a laugh at his. Besides, she needed to get a good look at him if she was going to act as his fashion consultant. And if she was going to be Giles for any length of time, he needed some nicer clothes. With that feat of spurious logic accomplished, she shed the rest of her clothes, put the glasses back on and looked into the mirror. Or perhaps gaped would be a better term. Angel and Riley had both had great bodies, so did Spike. All three were lean and had muscles to spare. Somehow, though, she'd assumed that a man as old as Giles couldn't have a really great body anymore. Somewhere along the line she'd placed him in the safe category of 'old guy' and decided that he must therefore be flabby and out of shape. Plus there was the way he'd never made a fuss about exercising. She knew that if she hadn't caught him at it, he would never in a million years have admitted he jogged. Even then, she'd put it out of her mind except when she decided he was having a midlife crisis she really needed not to support. Now, standing naked in front of the mirror in his body, Buffy could see that this was another case of Giles being reluctant to draw attention to himself. True, his muscles weren't as defined as Angel's or Riley's. And yes, he was getting older. Hard to deny that when there were silver hairs among the tawny ones on his chest and belly. Still, he was muscular and trim. His legs were long and nicely shaped. She knew his arms and back were strong enough to carry a grown girl as if she weighed nothing. That was a fact she'd conveniently shoved to the back of her mind a long time ago, as she did most reminders of her many near brushes with death when she could. This was a body that hadn't spent a lot of time in the gym, but one that had lived hard. Unlike the unscarred perfection of Angel or the government sculpted youth of Riley, Giles had never liked to show off his physique. He'd always stayed buttoned down and covered up as long as Buffy had known him. Almost like he was wearing armor rather than clothes. Now that she'd seen him, Buffy began to wonder why he'd felt that was necessary. It wasn't like this body was something to be ashamed of. In fact... Buffy couldn't seem to help herself. It looked so tempting; so exciting. Her fingers took on minds of their own and ran themselves through Giles' chest hair. It felt good. Soft, yet crisp. Slightly ticklish in a good way if she touched it too lightly. She closed her eyes and caressed the body she inhabited. She stopped when a familiar ache grew in an unfamiliar way. Her eyes opened and she looked down. She swallowed hard. She went to her desk. She knew she had a ruler in there. ***** As Giles sat down to his meal of sausages and onions with a side of fried tomatoes and mushrooms, he realized something. Two things in fact. For one, he didn't have nightclothes or any bedding for the sofa, and for the other, he was in a body that rebelled against what he was about to put in it. "Just bloody wonderful," he muttered. "She still won't eat, even when I try to make her from the inside." Still, he forced a few bites of tomato into his mouth and swallowed them. Small steps. That was the way. A bite here, a high-calorie treat there. If he kept at it, soon Buffy's body would be eating normally again, so she would actually recognize hunger when she got back into her own body. He ate a bite of sausage. He was going to put some weight on Buffy if it was the last thing he did. The sound of the door opening startled Giles. Willow and Dawn giggled and gossiped as they came into the living room. "He was totally checking you out, Dawnie." "Please! Like I'd ever dance with the Ego that Walks Like an Eleventh Grader!" "So you wouldn't?" "Well...only if he asked me." A flurry of giggles filled the house. Suddenly Willow shushed Dawn. "We should be quiet. Giles is probably asleep." "He's not on the sofa." "Maybe he and Buffy aren't back from patrol yet." "No, her jacket's here." "Hmm, I wonder where he is, then." "You don't think...?" Dawn's voice trailed off as her eyes moved to the top of the stairs. "What, are you kidding? Of course I don't think. They were barely speaking earlier." "Unlike a certain pair of witches tonight at The Bronze, who were getting majorly chatty together." "Well, we're talking, anyway. A little bit. But it was all, y'know, good stuff." Willow couldn't repress a grin, and a small blush. "C'mon, admit it," Dawn teased her. "You two were totally vibing." Giles sat in the kitchen and listened. Later, he couldn't have said what mental imp possessed him, but he decided to say something he had the feeling was long overdue. He walked into the doorway between the kitchen and the living room and folded his arms under his breasts. "So, you had a good time at The Bronze?" "Yeah, Buff," Willow said. "You should've been." "Well, unlike some people, I had grown up stuff to do. Dawn, what time is it?" "Huh? Time?" the girl stalled. "I dunno. I don't have a watch on." "It's after Midnight and you have school tomorrow." "I know," Willow began, "I should have paid more attention to that, but we were having such a good time...and Tara was there. She talked to me and everything." "Dawn, go to bed. Willow, don't keep my little sister out so late next time. Well, I'm off to bed, too." He picked up his suitcase. "See you in the morning." "Wait a minute," Dawn protested. "That's Giles's suitcase. Where are you taking it?" "Upstairs. Don't make me come tuck you in, Dawn." "W- why are you taking Giles' suitcase upstairs?" Willow asked, clearly not wanting to hear the answer. "There's something he needs in it. 'Night, Willow." He mounted the steps with a smug little grin on his borrowed face. At the bottom of the stairs, Willow and Dawn looked confused. "Buffy cares what time I come home?" Dawn sounded stunned. "She's got Giles in her room, and she's taking stuff up to him?" Willow was clearly perplexed. The two looked at one another. "Scooby research, tomorrow?" Dawn asked. "Oh yeah," Willow answered. *****
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