Buffy walked into Giles’ home to find him sitting on the floor, with books open in a semi-circle around him.  She chuckled softly, shaking her head in amusement.

“What are you doing?”

“Something that doesn’t require a chuckle.”  He replied quietly, not looking up at her. 

“Oh…research, then?”  She asked, sitting on the sofa directly behind him. 

“It needs to be done.”  He sighed heavily, turning the page of one book after reading a passage in another.  “It’s imperative to figure out the exact timing on this.”

Buffy nodded, curling her feet underneath her.  “World save-age and all that…”

He paused for just a moment and then cleared his throat.  “More like to keep you safe.”

“You know – I’ve read a few bits and pieces of journals from different Watchers.  And their goals were more about world safety…not Slayer safety.”

“Mm.”  He muttered absently, turning towards a third book – his glasses held between his teeth as he ran his finger along the words.

“You, on the other hand…you’re not a typical Watcher.  Are you?”

“Fairly certain you witnessed me being fired for that very reason.”  He chuckled then, making a quick note in the notebook resting on his knee. 

She was quiet for a long moment and then uncurled her legs and leaned forward, closer to him.  His glasses dropped from his teeth when he gasped softly – nearly inaudibly – as her fingertips touched a lock of hair on the back of his head.  He swallowed thickly, closing his eyes as he willed himself to not lose control in this situation. 

“I’ve never really noticed how this piece of your hair curls like this.”  She whispered, allowing her fingers to lightly stroke the curl in question. 

And his head lowered slightly, knowing he was losing control quickly.

“Buffy…”

“Hm?”  She murmured, her fingers slipping deeper into his hair to rest against his scalp.

“What…what are you doing?”

“Giving into temptation, I think.”  She replied, moving to kneel behind him.  “I can only cope with so much flirting, Giles.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“We have?”  She asked with a soft smile.  “We’ve talked about how I want to run my fingers through your hair?  Because…I don’t remember having that conversation at all.”

“Well, not that specifically.  We’ve talked about this…about this line we’re toeing.”  He inhaled sharply as her fingers moved further up towards the crown of his head.  “About how we should…talk more…”

“Mm…yeah, we did talk about that.”  She agreed, leaning forward until her lips were hovering just above the skin directly underneath the curl behind his ear.  “But, talk is…talk, Giles.  I really think we need to feel.”

“Ah, fuck…”  He breathed, letting the notebook drop to the floor as he leaned back towards her and tilted his head slightly to the left. “To feel will be my downfall.”

“I’ll catch you.”  She whispered, her breath warm against his neck.  Her fingers slipped back down his head, strands of hair between each of the digits.  “Please…”

And when her fingers curled into his hair, he exhaled deeply.

“Yes.”

She smiled and then pressed her lips to his skin before gently nuzzling the curl with the tip of her nose.  “Yes?”

He moved quickly, pushing books out of the way as he turned towards her – resting on his knees as his large hands cupped her face. He gazed into her eyes, nodding slowly as her fingers continued stroking his hair. 

“Yes.  Oh, fuck yes…”

And then he kissed her.  Not how he had imagined their first kiss – on the floor in his living room, kneeling in front of one another with books surrounding them.  But, when the tip of her tongue touched his, he realised that it was probably the most perfect first kiss that he could have had with her. 

He sighed softly as her fingers followed the lay of his hair.  And then he slowly ended the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. 

“That line has been obliterated…”

“Oh, absolutely.”  She giggled adorably and curled a strand of hair around her finger.  “Your hair is…so much softer than I imagined it would be.”

“How could you have possibly known?”  He whispered, licking his still-tingling lips.

“Known what?”

“How I’d react to your fingers…in my hair?”

“I didn’t.”  She admitted, shifting just enough to kiss his lips gently.  “I just knew I needed to touch it.  And once I did – I needed more.”

“We…need to take this slow.”  He whispered, an urgency in his tone that was the complete opposite of his actual words.  “I can’t rush into a physical relationship.  Not with you.”

“But, you want to?” 

He closed his eyes, nodding when he felt her hands on his shoulders.  “Yes.  Full steam ahead type of rush...directly into you.”

“Into me?”

His eyes snapped open to find her eyes wide and dark with desire.  He said nothing, but captured her lips in another deep kiss.

* * *

Two weeks later found her happily bounding down the stairs to the small courtyard outside of his front door.  There hadn’t been much progression since that first night – but, saying that, there had been the issue of a minor apocalypse that had needed to be averted.  That had taken precedence over any desire that either of them might have been feeling. 

That didn’t mean that there had been nothing happening between them.  Soft kisses when they were alone, gentle lingering of touches when others were around, warm hugs when she was leaving his home late at night.  She had agreed on taking it slow – her track record with guys hadn’t been the best and it was obvious that his breakup with Olivia had hurt him more than he had let on.  She was determined to let him set the pace, no matter how much she wanted to throw his front door open and rush into his arms and…

She paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep calming breath.  The more she thought about what she wanted to do, the harder it was not to do it.  She slowly opened her eyes and walked over to his front door.  There was a soft light showing through the window, but obviously not all of the lights were on.  She turned the knob and rolled her eyes.  He really needed to start locking his door. 

She pushed open the door and walked in, nearly calling out his name before she saw him.  And then she smiled as she closed and locked the door behind her.

Across the room in the chair he loved so much, an open book resting on his lap, his eyes closed in sleep.  She’d teased him lightly about the chair a few times – how it didn’t ‘go’ with the rest of his décor.  He’d just grinned at her, leaned back in the chair and allowed it to rock slightly as he lifted his feet to the ottoman in front of it.  She’d even sat in it a time or two – and she had to admit, it was very comfy.  Even if its more modern look went against everything else in his home.

She quietly made her way to him, then stood next to him – just watching him sleep for a few minutes.  Then she picked up the book and smiled – he’d been reading for pleasure, not work.  She placed a bookmark in and closed the book, then put it on the coffee table.  Then she sighed softly and reached out, gently running her fingers through his hair.

His eyes opened immediately – confusion showing clearly in them before they softened in relaxation.

“Buffy…”

“Hey.”  She whispered, gently twirling her fingers in his hair.  “Sorry it’s so late.”

“Everything alright?  Any issues or – ”

“Everything’s fine.”  She interjected with a smile.  “It was just overly busy – possibly of my own doing.”

“Your own doing?”  He asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

She shrugged a shoulder and carefully pulled her fingers from his hair.  “Just getting rid of some pent up energy…”

He looked at her for a moment and then wrapped his fingers around her wrist. 

“Come here…”  He said as he gently tugged her towards him. 

He tugged until she lost her balance and fell on top of him.  He grinned as she scrambled to get back up – and as soon as her knees were on either side of his hips, he gripped her thighs to hold her still. 

She looked down at him curiously, then relaxed and sat on his thighs as his hands moved towards her waist.  “Giles…”

“Kiss me, Buffy.”  He whispered, his fingertips edging under the hem of her shirt.  “Just…kiss me.”

She merely gazed at him for a long moment, content to drink in the sensation of his gentle touch against her skin.  He exhaled softly, looking up at her. 

“Please, love…”

She wasn’t sure if it was his pleading tone or the term of endearment he used — she had a feeling it was probably a combination of both — but she quickly lowered her mouth to his. His lips parted immediately, silently requesting for her tongue to enter.

A groan rumbled in his chest as she gave in to the request without hesitation. Her left hand on his shoulder, her right buried in his hair...her tongue stroking his as she maneuvered her body even closer to his.

And then she felt it — his hands tightening on her hips, the shift of his hips beneath hers, the warmth in her stomach that travelled down as she pressed against his emerging erection.

He pulled from the kiss with a sharp gasp, but held her tightly against him.

“Giles?”

“Don’t stop…” He murmured, moving his lips to the side of her neck.

She rocked her hips against him experimentally, biting her bottom lip when he groaned and nipped at the base of her neck. When she paused, he gently guided her movement with his hands as he kissed his way up to her ear.

“Please, don’t stop, Buffy.”  He whispered thickly, lifting his hips slightly to push back against her.

And then it was as if the dam had burst.

Her rocking against him, him sucking at her neck and collarbone as he moved with her...her fingers scratching at his scalp as she panted heavily. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to happen, but dry humping on his chair hadn’t entered her thoughts at all.

But she was sure it would from now on.

She was close already and she briefly had the thought of…if he could make her feel like this when they were both fully clothed, what would it be like if they actually fucked?

The thought alone caused her to tremble against him. He smiled against her skin and pulled her harder against him. And then he ran his tongue along her throat before placing a sucking kiss on her chin.

“Oh, Jesus…Giles…”

“Mm?”  He mumbled, shifting slightly beneath her to allow his cock to push against her in just the right spot.

“Fuck, I’m going to come…” She moaned, gripping his shoulders as she moved with him.

He said nothing, but smiled up at her through glazed eyes. And then he squeezed the cheek of her ass and she cried out his name as her orgasm crashed over her.  But, he didn’t stop…he wasn’t even sure he could stop.  He did sit up straighter in the chair, leaving his right hand on her hip as his left slid up her spine – his teeth held onto her neck as he sucked hard against her flesh.

And then she wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he was gently lowering her to the surprisingly plush area rug on the floor – leaning over her, directing her to curl her legs around him as he continued thrusting his hips against her.  She could feel his cock sliding against her – hard and thick, through his trousers and her jeans – and she gripped his back with her hands as she felt a second orgasm quickly building. 

“Giles…oh god…”

He pulled his mouth from her neck, smiling with boyish pride at the sight of the bruise on the side of her neck.  It would be much lighter by the time he came…and more than likely gone completely before the sun rose.  But, for now, it was dark against her glistening skin – and it was there because he had put it there, marking her as his own.  He supported himself above her with his left hand next to her head, his right gripping the outer part of her thigh as he pushed even harder against her. 

“Buffy…”  He groaned softly as her legs tightened around him.  “Oh, fuck, love…”

And then she threw her head back and screamed his name as she came a second time.  He followed her quickly this time, her name leaving his lips on a warm moan in a tone that she’d never heard her name spoken with.  Then his mouth was on hers, kissing her deeply…passionately…adoringly.  And she returned his kiss eagerly, sliding her hand back into the hair covering the back of his head. 

When the kiss came to a natural end, he moved his head to rest next to hers…his forehead touching the rug, his breath in heavy pants against her neck. 

“I, uh…that was, um…”  He swallowed and chuckled softly.  “Unexpected…”

“Yeah.”  She agreed, her hands now splayed against his back, her left leg slowly sliding down to the floor.  “But, fucking amazing.”

“Quite.”  He giggled, carefully shifting against her and inhaling sharply at the sensation of fabric against his incredibly sensitive cock.  “Quite fucking amazing.”

“So…you do want this to progress further, huh?”

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes.  “Have I given you the impression that I didn’t?  Because, if I did…that was erroneous and I’m – ”

“No.”  She interjected quickly, smiling as she brushed her fingertips over a lock of hair resting against his forehead.  “No, you haven’t given that impression.  I just…god, I want you…”

He smiled warmly before kissing her softly.  “Stay tonight.”

“Huh?”

“It’s incredibly late…and I’m loathe to watch you leave.”  He licked his lips and carefully pushed himself up onto his knees.  “Please…stay.”

She smiled, her eyes darting to his hand as he gently adjusted himself.  “Yeah, okay.  I’ll stay.”

He returned her smile and offered her his hand – which she took without hesitation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was only a few months later that she found out that stroking his hair calmed him as much as aroused him.  And that it depended on the specific circumstances as to which sensation it caused within him. Her gentle touch had brought him to tears in the aftermath of Willow’s rampage.  He was in so much physical pain, but the emotional exhaustion was beyond anything he had experienced. 

And he was angry.  Fuck, was he angry.

She hadn’t said a word.  She just sat down next to him and lifted her hand to brush through his freshly washed hair.  She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but him slowly lying down and resting his head in her lap certainly wasn’t it.  She continued stroking his hair, even when he gave a shallow sigh.  She whispered his name, asked if he was okay. 

It was a stupid question, but one she asked anyway.

He replied after a long moment – his voice tired, thick, and quiet.

“No.”

And then the tears followed – he groaned, his cracked ribs aching horribly, the sudden hitching movements as his sobs wracked his body not exactly helping the situation.  Buffy was somewhat surprised at his reaction, but she whispered her love for him and allowed her fingers to comb through his hair.  His sobs quietened after a few minutes and he closed his eyes.

“Thank you.”  He whispered, moments before sleep finally overtook him.

“I love you.”  She whispered in response, lovingly stroking his hair as her own tears began to well.

She sat there for ages, his head resting in her lap. Her fingers carefully mapped out the lumps against his scalp as he slept fitfully.

She’d come so very close to losing him this time — even with his borrowed magic, probably because of his borrowed magic — and at the hands of her best friend. This was going to take a while for her to work through. And she had been very adamant that she did not want to see Willow when Xander had called earlier.

This wasn’t the time.

She watched him sleep, watched as she rubbed a lock of his hair between her index finger and thumb. He nuzzled against her in his sleep, moaning softly as he shifted closer to her.

“It’s okay, babe. I’m here. I’m safe — you’re safe. We’re going to be fine.”

“I think I’d like to marry you.” He said on a sigh.

She jumped slightly, unaware that he was actually not asleep. “What?”

“Not now, of course. You’re not ready and I’d rather not be varying colors of blue, black, and green in our wedding photos.” He mumbled, slowly placing his hand on her knee.

“You want to marry me?”

“Mm. Have from the beginning.”

“I…what?”

He swallowed with some difficulty and opened his eyes. And then he rolled onto his back, grimacing in pain before looking up at her.

“When you’re ready, say the word.”  He bit his lip as her fingertips brushed his hair back from his forehead. “And, for god’s sake, please don’t do that right now. I’m in no shape for what it makes me want to do.”

“I thought this was calming you.”

“It was.”  He confirmed, a tired smile playing at his lips. “Now it’s not.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry.”

His glazed eyes met hers and he lifted a trembling hand to her cheek. “Don’t be. Just…know that I want — I’m just unable.”

“I’m going to marry you, Giles.”

“That’s…very good to know.” He murmured before closing his eyes again.

She watched him fall into a deep sleep – and only when she was sure that he was actually asleep did she start stroking his hair again.  He sighed deeply, turning his head towards her.  She smiled, then glanced down at the other end of the sofa.  It was nearly comical – his large body sprawled across the cushions…his feet resting on the armrest…his head on her thigh. It would have been completely comical if he wasn’t in so much pain. 

 Also…she was fairly certain that he’d proposed to her.  Obviously, it wasn’t in the way she had ever envisioned – she had a feeling it wasn’t how he would have wanted to ask her either.  Chances are, he wouldn’t even remember bringing the subject up.  He had taken some pretty heavy duty pain meds.  So, she wouldn’t mention it…not so soon, anyway – he was right, she wasn’t ready to get married right now.  But, the knowledge that he was thinking of it…that he wanted to marry her? 

Her smile grew and her fingertips lightly stroked across his forehead. 

As soon as he felt up to asking, she’d say yes.  Without hesitation, without question. 

But for now, she’d sit here with his head in her lap…her fingers in his hair.  While he slept.

She leaned down and kissed him softly, smiling as two words fell from his lips on a murmur. 

“Love you too, Giles.”  She murmured in response.

Then she leaned back, resting her head against the back of the sofa…and closed her eyes.