After an all-night editing session I'm off to bed, but first! It is now technically Wednesday, and I've been tagged in this twice (thanks, @unendingwanderlust and @cupcake-or-death! xx) so I figured I oughta do the thing before I hit the sack.
As usual I've got a hundred different BG stories floating around, and although my Muse is alive and kickin', she is wildly unfocused. Out of the fics I've been working on since being tagged, I thought I'd share some from the next installment of "I Need A Bad Idea", since that one has the most people waiting on an update. ❤️😊
She closed her bedroom door behind her without a word, leaning against it as she watched Giles. He was seated on the side of her bed, his elbows on his knees and head in hands. From the stiffness of his shoulders, she got the impression he was more frustrated than distraught, so she held back, unsure of what he needed in the moment.
“I’ve forgotten how exhausting it is, being that angry.” His voice was muffled as he didn’t change position yet, though he acknowledged that he knew it was Buffy that had joined him in the room.
“How’s your hand?” She softly asked, moving closer to him, and he sighed heavily as he sat up straight and held his hand up, palm-down, assessing his knuckles. She made a sympathetic noise as she stood in front of him and took his hand between her own. His skin was red and starting to bruise already, but by the way he flexed his knuckles she determined that he hadn't fractured anything at least. “I suspected as much, with the shiner Angel’s sporting.”
“I gave him a black eye?” Giles asked with surprise, looking up into her eyes now, and she gave him a half-smile as she nodded.
“Pretty good one, considering. If he’d been human you’d probably have knocked him out.”
Giles’ eyebrows lifted for a moment, but then his expression relaxed into one of weariness, and he pulled his hand from hers so that he could grasp her waist, tugging her close up against him between his knees. He pressed his face against her chest as he wrapped his arms around her, and she melted a little bit, carding her fingers through his hair.
“‘m sorry,” He eventually spoke again, his voice muffled. “I’d promised I wouldn’t be a neanderthal after my misunderstanding with Riley.”
“We both know this situation is a bit different than that one was." Buffy reasoned carefully, and then admitted honestly, "It was a little scary, Giles." He tilted his head to rest his chin on her chest now, looking up at her all ashamed and morose like a kicked puppy. “But…” She slowly continued to stroke his hair, fiddling one of the curls between her fingers for a moment. “I gotta admit, the way you grabbed him and pushed him like that, all angry and protective, it was also kinda hot.”
“That didn’t scare you?” He asked in surprise, and she half-grinned sheepishly.
“You being like, preternaturally still, that scared me.” She said, and he blinked at her.
“…God, I love it when you use multi-syllable words in front of me.”
She laughed at that, and he smiled softly, genuine warmth in his expression again now.
“I also love it when you laugh.” He murmured lower, sliding his hands down and up underneath her shirt, slowly rubbing her back.
“There’s not a lot of that going around right now,” She lamented. “We’ve faced the end of the world tons of times, but this…”
“We will get through this.” He assured softly, his fingertips gliding along her spine. “I don’t exactly know how… but we will.”
She nodded, and cupped his jaw in her hands to tilt his face up more so that she could lean down and kiss him. That tender, warm touch filled her with a sense of peace that she felt down to the soles of her feet, and the world felt stable around her again.
