Giles paced around his flat. It felt strangely empty. Strange, because he’d been the only one in it night upon night for months. Yes, they’d reconciled, Giles and his two young friends and his Slayer. They’d become one, for a short while, in an experience of intensity Giles would never forget. They’d clung to each other afterward, spending last night dreaming together in Buffy’s living room, and he’d been grateful for the continued contact. But they’d separated again this morning. He was left to spend his day alone.
He ached for them. He wondered if they missed him the same way. They all had lovers to be with, partners to share their nights. Probably they didn’t miss him. It was late, and he had no hope they’d share evening plans with him.
Giles sighed, and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Before he could so much as turn on the tap, he heard a knock at the door. He trotted around to open it. “Xander,” said Giles, letting his pleasure show.
“Hey,” said Xander. He stepped through the door. “Brought you some cider. American-style. Thought we might build a fire and drink it. Or something.”
“A fire. Good idea. I’ll just… Glasses are in the cupboard.”
“Yeah, I remember where stuff is.” Xander took himself off to the kitchen. Giles popped out his back door to grab a few armfuls of the logs he had stacked just outside. The March night was crisp, as desert nights were in California. It had surprised him for a time, how sharp the contrast could be between daytime warmth and the nighttime chill. The fire would feel good. He laid kindling in the grate, then loosely balled yesterday’s newspaper over it. He opened the flue.
Xander came back, holding two glasses of cider, opaque and dark. Giles lit a long kitchen match and touched it to the newspaper in several spots. He tossed the match on top, then stood back. He took the glass that Xander handed him, and sipped. The cider tasted good. Tart. He put the glass on the mantel, then started adding logs to the fire as the kindling caught. He looked at Xander.
“What brings you here tonight?”
“I dunno. Just had a feeling that you could use some company. And that I could too. Which is weird, considering I left a kinda grumpy girlfriend to come here.” Xander shrugged. He set his glass down on the hearth and knelt to watch the fire. Giles put the screen in place.
Another knock sounded at the door. Giles looked at Xander, who shrugged again. He opened the door again. “Willow!” She grinned at him, a little abashed, then came in as he stepped aside for her. She stopped to hug him. He squeezed her gratefully.
“I come bearing chocolate,” she said.
“Hey, Wills,” said Xander.
“Come sit by the fire with us,” said Giles, hospitably. “Would you like some cider? Xander brought it. Or I could make tea.” He distributed to them some of the chocolate bar Willow had handed him.
“Cider’s cool, thanks.” Willow went over to Xander and sat next to him. The pair put their arms around each other. Giles brought Willow her glass. He turned off the overhead lights, leaving just the fire and his dragonfly lamp to light the room. He sat in the armchair nearby. The logs popped as they caught, sending sparks drifting lazily up the chimney. He’d snuck a cedar log into the mix, and it smelled heavenly. Giles felt immensely better already.
The door knocker sounded again. Giles smiled at the two friends on his hearth, and they grinned back. They knew who it had to be. Giles opened the door to confirm that indeed, it was Buffy. He opened his arms to her as she came in. She moved into his embrace and returned it one-handed. She had a canister in one hand. She handed it to him. “Keemun,” she said. “Didn’t see it in your collection last time I was here, and thought you might like some.”
“Oh!” said Giles. “Thank you. I noticed it at the shop the other day, and kept meaning to try it.”
“Hey Will, Xand.” Buffy took off her sweater and joined them on the floor in front of the fire.
“Would you like to try the tea?” Giles said. “Or Xander’s cider?”
“Cider sounds great,” Buffy said. “Tea tomorrow night or something.”
Giles brought her a glass and some chocolate, then returned to his armchair. He watched the three of them snuggled together on his floor, and was happy.
“Riley was kinda pissed that I ditched him tonight,” said Buffy. She kicked off her shoes and stuck them under the couch, out of the way.
“Anya was too. But I just felt Giles needed some company.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Buffy said. “Wanted to see Giles. And am stoked to see you guys here too.”
“Tara didn’t mind,” Willow said. “She said it was understandable we’d want to be together a lot after a working like that.”
“Understatement of the year,” Xander said. He emptied his glass, then lay back on the carpet.
The fire was burning nicely. Giles got up and poked at it, more for something to do than because it needed poking. He added another log. He relaxed back in his chair and had a piece of chocolate. He considered Tara’s assessment. At first he’d thought that was the correct explanation, just residual effects of the union. Now he wondered if it weren’t something more, perhaps something more permanent. The book he’d found the spell in had said something about lowering barriers among those involved in the union. At the time, Giles had been only too eager to lower any barriers between himself and Buffy. Now… well, he found he still didn’t mind. Even though it had lowered the barriers between him and Xander, as well as Buffy and Willow. He knew what was in the young man’s heart now, and knew it was admirable.
The fire popped. Giles yawned.
“Giles,” said Buffy. “Do you still have those extra pillows in your upstairs closet?”
“I’ll fetch them,” Giles said. He came back down with all of his pillows, even the ones on his bed, and two thick comforters. Xander got up and helped him spread them out on the carpet. It wasn’t as soft as a mattress would have been, but it was nicer than just the carpet. Giles handed out the pillows, then retreated to the armchair. He watched the three of them strip off extra layers, shoes and socks, and in the case of Xander, his shirt as well. They settled down together. He turned off the dragonfly lamp.
“Aren’t you joining us, Giles?” said Willow.
“I’m fine right here,” he said, though he did long for the touch they were sharing with each other.
Buffy crawled over to him. “At least take off your shoes and socks,” she said, and did it for him. She rubbed his feet, and that satisfied his craving a little. It wouldn’t be enough, though, not with what he ached for right there in front of him.
“Oh, all right,” he said. He slipped down to the floor next to Buffy. He pulled off his jumper, but refused to remove the shirt underneath it. He curled himself around his Slayer, feeling her warm and solid and safe against his chest. Giles let the sound of his friends’ breathing lull him to sleep.
Xander walked down the steps toward Giles’ patio, a little nervous. He had a backpack slung over a shoulder, and in his arms a stack of large pizzas. Pepperoni and mushroom for him; standard veggie for Willow; artichoke hearts, garlic, and jalapeños for that sicko Giles. Buffy would eat some of all three. Assuming they showed up. Xander had bought the pizzas on a hunch, and his hunches sometimes went way bad.
He braced the pizzas against the wall for a moment and knocked. Giles opened the door, and once again flashed that big happy grin that meant Xander had at least gotten some of it right. “Pizza boy,” Xander said, completely unnecessarily. Giles beckoned him in and looked behind him.
“The others not with you?” he asked.
“Naw. Haven’t seen them yet today. I kinda expected them to be here already, actually.” Giles cleared off the kitchen counter and Xander spread the boxes across it.
“I have a feeling they’ll be by soon,” Giles said. “Let’s leave the pizza unmolested for a few minutes. If you’re capable of it.”
“Control yourself, big guy. I saw that look of lust when you smelled the garlic.” Xander patted Giles on the shoulder, then wandered to the section of flat they always called the living room. Giles had the fire laid already, just waiting for an excuse to light it. Xander grinned at that. He struck a match from the box on the mantel and set it going, the way he’d seen Giles do it last night. It was another cool night, and the day had been wet.
Somebody knocked. Xander and Giles smiled at each other. Xander answered it. Both Buffy and Willow were there. They each had bags with. They trooped in and dumped the bags next to the couch.
“I smell pizza!” said Buffy and her Slayer metabolism.
“Xander very thoughtfully brought our favorites,” said Giles. “Come and, er, tuck in.”
Giles pulled a six-pack of Coke out of his fridge. Xander grabbed a can, handed another to Buffy. Giles popped the top on one for himself, which almost made Xander do a spit-take. He managed not to do that, or snort Coke out his nose, or even tease Giles the way he might have. Somehow he just didn’t want to needle the guy any more.
He piled a plate with ‘za and flopped on the couch. When they were all munching away, he made his big announcement. “Broke up with Anya today,” he said, and waited for the reactions.
“Xander, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, Xander!”
“Shit, Xan. What happened?”
“I dunno what happened,” Xander said. “I was watching her talk to me, not hearing anything she said, pretty much. I realized that sex aside, I just don’t really like Anya. I have nothing in common with her. She bugs me when I’m not too busy coming to notice.”
Buffy nodded sympathetically. He scarfed down about half of another slice.
“What did you say when you figured it out?” asked Willow.
He swallowed the rest of the slice before answering. “Nothing right away. It was a shocker. Made me think for a minute. Then she said, and I shit you not, that I was not allowed to spend a third night in a row with you guys instead of her. That was it. I asked her to give me my basement key back.”
“How did she react?” said Giles, quietly from his armchair.
“Not well, let me tell you. I got the full ‘you’re scorning me’ treatment. When she started in on the gross genital mutilation stuff I told her to just get out.”
“Eww!”
“No way you should have to put with with that crap in your own place.” Buffy took the tough stance, as usual.
“Are you doing all right?” Giles said, again quietly.
“Yeah, I’m okay. It helped to know that you guys don’t really like her. And you can’t tell me otherwise. I know what goes on inside you.” That spell the other day had been an eye-opener for him in a lot of ways.
“Like we do you,” said Willow. She scooted over next to him on the couch and put her head on his shoulder. “You’ll be bummed for a while, then you’ll be okay.” Buffy scooted over on the floor and leaned against his knees.
“Bummage period greatly shortened by quality comfort like this,” he said. “Also by pizza.”
“I’ll just toss the rest of the box at you, shall I?” said Giles. He did bring another couple of slices to Xander, then plunked himself into the vacant space at the other end of the couch. Buffy slid over when he did that, and switched to leaning against Giles’ knees. Giles looked surprised, then happy again.
“So, enough about my love life. What’s going on with you guys?”
“Everything’s okay with me and Tara,” said Willow.
“I’ll pretend I wasn’t asked,” said Giles.
“Eh,” said Buffy. “Riley is still all bandaged up, and he’s off drinking tonight. Says if I won’t hang with him, he has no choice but to get drunk with the boys.”
“That’s five different kinds of bullshit,” Xander said, feeling pissed off for Buffy. You always had a choice about getting drunk.
“My word, yes,” said Giles. “Don’t let him tell you such nonsense, Buffy.”
“No fear. I know the difference between a Slayer and a doormat.”
Giles reached down and mussed up her hair affectionately. Xander knew from the union how much Giles cared about Buffy. Buffy had to know now, too. In fact, he’d clued in how much Giles cared about all of them, and how awful the last few months had been for him. Xander hoped Giles had paid attention and figured out that they all loved him right back. Maybe soon he’d be able to say something about it.
Xander and the gang hung out for the rest of the night. After the pizza was well and truly gone, Giles made some of that tea Buffy had given him. He pronounced it good, best drunk with milk. Willow tried it and said she liked it too. Buffy and Xander shrugged, and drank their mugs. Tasted like tea to them.
When bedtime came around, Giles pulled the bedding out from where he had it folded and stacked, in the hall closet. He stumped upstairs to change into pajamas, still too stodgy to strip down in front of them. Xander opened his backpack and tada! produced a toothbrush and pj bottoms to sleep in. He felt pretty smart until Buffy and Willow opened their bags to produce the same. And changes of clothes. And makeup.
He slept on the floor again, between two hot chicks. He hoped they didn’t notice that he was feeling kinda horny. Actually it would be cool if they did notice. Giles once again was all cuddled up to Buffy. Willow maybe wanted to get near him, Xander thought, but Giles was still too shy.
They’d have to start working on that.
The next night it was Buffy’s turn to drag up to Giles’ door ahead of the others, in need of some extra comfort. Or maybe in need of milking it a little. She wasn’t sure. She knew was she was supposed to be feeling bad, but somehow she couldn’t quite work up to it. She let herself in, and slung her duffel into the hallway. She had broken down and packed a bunch of clothes, so she wouldn’t have to hit the dorm tomorrow unless she’d forgotten a book there or something. Riley had definitely been giving off the wanna-get-pushy vibe, and being absent from the push zone was probably sound tactics.
Giles was in the kitchen, cooking. She smelled good stuff, though she couldn’t really name it. Giles tended to explore the range of cooking that came with the word “cuisine” tacked on the end, which was out of Buffy’s expertise. She marched in and gave him a hello hug. He kissed the top of her head, hands full with a potholder and a wooden spoon.
“Can I do anything?”
“Yes, please. Chop the salad makings, if you would. They’re all over there, next to the cutting board.”
“Cool. Slayer good with knives.” Buffy knew this from experience. She could chop veggies like that chick in “The long kiss goodnight”, complete with pin-the-tomato-on-the-door finish. No fancy camera cuts necessary. She let rip with the slice-age. This was the fun part of cooking.
Giles was beating something in a little bowl with a fork. “Dressing,” he said to her, holding it out for her to sniff. It was vinegary and mustardy and made her mouth water.
“You can make that at home?”
“Of course, you silly girl.”
Just then Willow came in from the campus, then Xander, a little sweaty from work. His construction job had picked up again today, as they’d heard when he’d called in that morning.
“Xander, you just have time for a quick shower before dinner,” said Giles.
“What, you don’t like my manly scent? Yeah, okay, stench.” He vanished into the bathroom with his bag.
Buffy ranged plates across the counter, and Giles served onto them from his array of pans. Xander reappeared as Willow was distributing forks. “My timing is impeccable as always,” he said. “Missed the cooking, showed up for the food.”
“There’ll be the washing up,” said Giles, picking up his plate. Xander groaned. The three followed Giles to sit around the coffee table. No need for a fire tonight. It had been nice out.
Once the munching was underway, Buffy let loose with her news. “Exactly none of you will be surprised to hear that I dumped Riley today.”
“So I gotta ask about protocol here,” said Xander. “Would it be rude of me to cheer?”
“I don’t think so,” said Giles. “Er, sorry, Buffy. Riley didn’t attempt to get on with any of us. At least Anya tried.”
Only Willow’s sweet face quivered with sympathy. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, truly, Will. I had one of those epiphany things, like Xan had yesterday. Riley and I had absolutely zero chemistry. Zip. Zilch. Nada. I kept pretending because he was cute, and normal. I had this dumb theory that if I weren’t the Slayer, Riley would be exactly what I’d go for.”
Giles made a scoffing noise.
“Yeah, I know. Pre-Slayer Buffy liked ‘em spicier, and Slayer Buffy needs more spicier-er. Even the sex was bland with Mr Iowa.”
“Bland?” said Willow.
“You know, five minutes of foreplay, ten minutes of oral, then the guy climbs on top and whales away. I think the army drilled him on it.”
“I think his problem was that he wasn’t getting drilled,” said Xander. Willow smacked him. “No, seriously.”
“I’m no expert,” said Giles, “but I suspect Xander is right.”
“Whatever,” said Buffy. “I am officially uninterested in Finn sexuality from this moment onward. I much more interested in whatever the heck this is on top of the rice. It is unbelievably yummy.”
Giles blushed. “Thank you. It’s from my new Thai cookbook. Green curry.”
Xander cleaned up after dinner with some token bitching. Buffy had some homework to do, a paper to write for her lit class. Giles also seemed to have some writing to do, sitting at his desk with a leather-bound book and his favorite fountain pen. Willow was re-copying her anthro notes with color-coded pens, which Buffy personally felt was a bit much, but it made Will happy so it was cool. She made some good progress on her paper. When she felt stuck, she just channeled her inner Will and Giles, which was way less like a metaphor now than she would have believed possible.
Around eleven, Giles stood up and stretched.
“I’m sleeping in the loft tonight,” he said, a little awkwardly. “My back can’t take much more of this. You lot are half my age.” Buffy ran upstairs to inspect the loft. Yeah, he’d put all the pillows on the bed. He might be acting like he was choosing to sleep alone, but secretly he was hoping they’d all go with.
“Is there room for us all?” asked Xander.
“Totally,” said Buffy, looking down at him over the railing. “We’ll have to get friendly. Ha, ha. Should be good, though. Cali king bed. Giles, you musta bought a new one some time while I wasn’t looking. Which, yeah, okay, was pretty much the entire time since Thanksgiving. Sorry.” This last quietly to him, as he came up behind her.
“Buffy, love, I understand. It’s okay. You’re here now.” He slipped his arms around her waist from behind, and snugged her back against his wide chest. Giles felt good. Strong, sheltering. Not safe, exactly. He was too definitively masculine to be safe. But not dangerous. He smelled good, too. Buffy liked his soap. One of the nice things about crashing in his place and using his shower in the mornings was the chance to use his soap, and carry that woody Giles-smell around with her all day. It had been one of the things Riley had complained about, actually, that she didn’t smell like his girl any more. ‘His girl.’ Fooey.
The bad thing about sharing Giles’ shower, however, was that there were four of them. And his water heater was tiny. Buffy wondered if it would be okay to suggest that they go in on a bigger place together. She was pretty sure Xander would jump at the chance. Willow probably would, depending on the Tara sitch. Giles was the big unknown. He might freak, or he might be quietly overjoyed. Buffy rubbed his arm gently, pushing his sweater back so she could touch his skin. He looked nice once you peeled all the layers off him. A bit muscly, just enough chest hair to be sexy, a few scars here and there that let you know he had lived and fought alongside a Slayer. Pity he was so shy about his body.
Xander looked good too. Buffy contemplated him as he popped up into the loft, in his jammy bottoms, chest bare. No hair, which she thought meant he was just young and hadn’t had time to grow it yet. Nice pecs and biceps. Flat tummy, with a line of dark hair disappearing down into the jammies that was starting to make Buffy curious. “Hey,” said Xander. “Do I get Giles-hugs too?”
“Come here,” said Giles, surprising Buffy. He shifted her into his left arm, and stretched out his right for Xander. He held them both tight. Buffy looked up and saw that his eyes were closed. She met Xander’s gaze and they smiled at each other. They both stretched up at the same time and kissed the nearest Giles cheek. He made a happy sound, and kept his eyes closed.
Just then Willow appeared. “Let me in on the hug action,” she said. Xander and Buffy each stuck an arm out, and she tucked herself in. Giles leaned down and kissed her forehead. That Hello Kitty nightshirt was just too adorable. Buffy liked cute-Will better than earth-momma-Will, so she approved of the nightie. It was a little see-through. Buffy peeked, and thought about Sappho-land and what might be good about it. Maybe not good in general, because she couldn’t see herself jumping Tara’s bones, nice as Tara was. But Willow, probably. Buffy rubbed her hand up and down Will’s back.
It was all too good for words, at least for any words Buffy had. Maybe word-guy Giles had some, or babble-girl Willow. She’d long since moved on from feeling it was weird. It was just a thing that had happened because of the unification spell. They knew each other now, inside and out, and a little bit of everybody was inside everybody else. They were complete when they were together.
Buffy’s opinion was that it was going to turn out to be a good thing for the Slaying. When the next crisis came up, they would be a tight unit. They’d trust each other. They’d know how to work together without even talking about it. Nobody was gonna come between them again.
Giles let go at last. “Must brush my teeth,” he said. He took his pajamas out of one of the lower drawers in his bureau.
Buffy watched him head downstairs. When she heard the bathroom door click behind him, she got onto the bed with Xan and Will. “Giles is scared,” she said.
“Yeah, I can feel it,” said Xander. “He has a really hard time letting people in.”
“He wants it, though. He looked so lost and lonely the other night, Buffy, until you went over to him and made him cuddle with us.”
“So that’s what we have to do,” Xander said. “Just keep on making sure he’s with us. He’s getting there.”
“Gently though,” Buffy said. “Lots of TLC.” She got up, then, and fished her nightie out of the drawer she’d put it in earlier, and changed.
Giles trailed through the house, putting the lights out behind himself. Buffy slipped out of bed when he came upstairs and made him get in next to Willow. She got under the covers on his other side. He was a little tense at first, uncertain, then he melted when Willow snuggled up to him.
“Good night, Mary-Ellen,” said Xander.
“Good night, Ben,” Willow said.
Buffy stifled a snicker. No sense encouraging them.
Willow showed up at home a bit late the next night, sniffling. The others had held up dinner, waiting for her. They held it up some more to gather around her and console her. They could probably guess, but she had to say it anyway.
“Tara?” said Buffy.
“Yeah,” Willow said, wiping at her nose. Giles handed her one of his handkerchiefs. She blew, and got herself together, mostly. “I think we can still be friends. I hope so, anyway.”
“We all like her,” said Xander. “It’s just…”
“Yeah, I know. She’s not one of us. She wanted to make love this afternoon, and I couldn’t. All that passion was just gone.” It had been bewildering. She could still appreciate Tara, know she was a good person, know even that she was sexy. But there was a wall there now. It was the spell. She’d tried to explain it to Tara, and Tara had known almost before she started what she was going to say.
It had been the first sense Willow had that the spell had cost them something. Had Xander really been all that out of sync with Anya? Did Buffy really have no connection with Riley? Willow thought probably those relationships would have ended, eventually. Not as soon as they did. Not as definitively. The union had chopped those three people right out of their lives. They none of them would be getting close to anybody else, ever.
If she had to balance the books, she’d say that she got way more from it than she’d paid. The four of them would be together for the rest of their lives, or until the union broke somehow. Which was a sad thought. But until then, they had something nobody else could give them, something profound and deep and wonderful. Willow was going to treasure it.
They ate dinner together solemnly. Not sadly, just quietly. Willow felt the strong support of the other three around her. They all touched her, stroked her a little when they passed near her. She understood what Xander had meant the other night, about the quality comfort. Her mind was already turning away from the people she’d been with before, from Tara and from Oz, to her three new life partners.
Wow, that’s what they were. That thought carried Willow through dinner, and doing the dishes, and settling down to her differential equations homework.
At bedtime, they all just headed right up to Giles’ loft. Their loft. Their big bed. Buffy had already appropriated a drawer. Willow went looking to see if she could find some more space in Giles’ armoire. The man was organized in ways she hadn’t dreamed of before this. If only she had the drawer space! She found he’d cleared space already for them.
Xander stripped down right there in the loft, to Snoopy boxers. Willow squealed to see them. She’d given them to him a couple of years before for his birthday. He flopped himself back on the bed. “Was too warm in the long pants last night,” Xander said. “That comforter plus you guys next to me was hella hot.”
“Agreed,” said Buffy. She left off the bottoms of her sushi pjs. The top was long enough to cover her butt, just barely. Willow appreciated the view of the high-cut lace underneath. Buffy always had done sexy better than Willow had. Willow had cute nailed, though. She knew that.
They sprawled all over the top of the bedcovers, giggling a little. Xander cuddled up behind her, arm over her waist. She turned in his arms to face Buffy. Willow moved in and sneaked a quick kiss, nothing too sloppy or wiggy. Buffy snickered.
She heard a throat clearing. Giles was over at his closet door, opening it and sticking his shoes away. On a shoe tree, of course. Xander was fiddling around, running a hand over her and over Buffy. Willow sighed. Giles closed the closet door and came over to the bedside. Willow watched his gaze rove over all three of them before he cast it down at his feet. He was in full jammies.
Buffy harumphed, and got up. She decisively took Giles’ pajama top off. “You’re going to boil in that, Brit-guy,” she told him. Willow would have done the same, but Buffy was willing to get pushier with Giles than she was. Giles was Buffy’s Watcher, which gave her some extra rights over him. Besides, he was obviously comfier with Buffy to start with. Though Willow knew she’d eventually get him to relax with her. Eventually.
Giles extracted the top from Buffy’s grip, and put it back on. He buttoned it all the way up to the neck. Willow decided that now was a good time to get a teeny bit pushy, and went over. She undid three buttons. She rubbed his chest a little, just a brief hello to the triangle of fuzz exposed. Giles cleared his throat again, then got into bed without saying anything or doing the buttons up.
Willow got comfort privileges, sandwiched in between the two guys. This time Giles turned on his side to face her, and snuck an arm around her. Xander did the same, stretching his arm out far enough to be over both her and Giles. Buffy got in next to Xander, and then they all went to sleep. Willow didn’t drop off right away. She was thinking about the fact that Xander had an erection, and it was right up against her butt, and she didn’t mind. Maybe not so gay now? Or maybe she’d been bi all along. Confusing.
The last thing she noticed before she dropped off was that Giles was hard, too, where she’d unconsciously slipped her leg up between his.
The next night was a Friday night. Willow and Buffy had their psych class, taught by somebody a whole heckuva lot more normal than Walsh had ever been, with the usual weedy graduate TA instead of a soldier boy. Buffy whispered to Willow that she wanted to do a fluffy sexy food dinner thing that night. Not too heavy. Willow asked Buffy what food was sexy, to which Buffy replied that she’d hoped Will would have some ideas about that. Buffy didn’t actually seem to need any suggestions, when it came time to shop. Willow was along for the Slayer-ride down the aisles to collect fruit and sparkling cider and bread and cheese, clinging with feet tucked onto the undercarriage of the shopping cart while Buffy spun giggling, terrorizing the stock clerk.
“An orgy of domesticity,” Buffy told Willow later, in their kitchen. Willow watched Buffy do the slicing thing she loved doing, showing off. Giles also watched, from the safety of the other side of the pass-through, with that little glow on his face he got watching his Slayer in action.
Willow laid it all out on a tray, which Buffy carried out to the living room. Giles dug around in a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of white wine, and four glasses from their spots hanging under the cupboards. He poured some for all of them, which made Willow feel very adult and sophisticated. She swirled it around and sipped and wondered exactly she was supposed to be noticing and liking about it. It was okay, she guessed, maybe a tiny bit sweet. German name, but a California winery. Buffy seemed to be enjoying it. And Giles had nearly finished his glass already. Though maybe that was nerves. Buffy was pouring him some more.
Xander mostly ignored his glass and munched olives and bread.
“Hey,” said Willow. “I was thinking earlier today, which is something I try to do every day at least a little bit, ‘cause, you know, brains are good.”
“Brain and brain,” murmured Xander.
“I was thinking that maybe we needed a bigger place, you know?”
“Bigger water heater,” said Buffy, immediately.
“Anything that’s not a basement is okay by me,” Xander said.
“Ah,” said Giles. “The classifieds are on my desk. I, erm, took the liberty of marking a few places I thought might be suitable. The rental market in Sunnydale is very favorable at the moment. Frankly, it was favorable three years ago when I moved here.”
“What? No one wants to live on a Hellmouth? Go figure!” said Xander.
“Good work, Giles,” said Buffy, taking charge. “Go for it.”
Willow giggled. “Giles knows exactly what kind of place we all want.”
“I do,” he said. “I’ll start looking at properties after this weekend.”
After dinner, Giles lit the fire again. It was a little on the warm side in the apartment, but Willow thought that was good planning. Maybe clothes would be coming off.
Xander sat her down on the carpet in front of the hearth. He pulled her close and kissed her. Willow loved the feel of Xander, the life-long familiar smell of him close to her. She remembered how much she’d liked it back in high school, when they’d had their disastrous fling. She’d never really let go of the longing for him. The kissing got serious. Xander’s hands began to wander. He found his way inside Willow’s blouse, and she whimpered.
She heard a sudden chair-scrape. They broke off to look up. Giles had stood up from his desk. He looked embarrassed. “I’ll, uh, leave you to it. I have some reading to do.” He took his book and fled upstairs. Willow was sad to watch him. She beckoned Buffy over. The three put their heads together.
“Plan of action?” Xander whispered.
Willow had thought this through earlier. “Seduction. We gotta get him excited before he knows what’s happening to him.”
“Get started right in front of him,” Buffy whispered. “Love each other where he can see us and hear us. He won’t be able to resist.”
Xander said, “And then we gotta concentrate on him for a little. Payoff will be huge, I think.”
“Yeah,” said Buffy. “Once we get to him, he’ll go up like, um, a dry thing. That burns.”
Xander said, “I brought some supplies. Condoms. And lube.”
Willow giggled. “I brought some too. Stopped at that women-positive place at lunchtime. I felt silly, ‘cause last time I was there it was for gay stuff. You know, dolphin-shaped vibrator.”
“Woah. Didn’t know they came in animal shapes. Well, I brought some flavored massage oil. Whatcha gonna do with the lube, Xan?”
“I was kinda hoping Giles,” said Xander. Willow giggled again.
“Think he’ll be interested in it?” said Buffy.
“The idea scared the heck out of me at first, then Anya got me to do it. Took it right up the butt. And I’m here to say, ooh la la. Giles will like it.” Xander had a look of possessive anticipation.
Well, that was news. Willow hadn’t pegged Xander as kinky boy. At least he’d gotten something useful out of those months with Anya. They’d probably gone through the Joy of Sex like it was a checklist. Knowing Anya, there’d probably been an actual checklist. Willow stopped that line of speculation short right there.
Willow got her stuff out and handed it to Xander. Xander followed Buffy up the stairs. Willow ran around shutting up the apartment for the night, then went up.
Giles sat in the comfy chair he had up next to his bed, book in one hand and a full wineglass in the other. The lamp standing just behind the chair was the only light left on in the apartment, now that Willow had switched things off downstairs. Giles watched Willow move into the loft a little nervously. “What have you lot got planned?”
“It’s okay, Giles. Just going to relax a little,” said Willow. Buffy went to stand behind the armchair. She rubbed Giles’ shoulders. He put the book down, and sipped.
“Hey, big guy. Where’s the best place to put these?” Xander held up the two boxes of condoms.
Giles flushed very red and stammered. “Nightstand. Top drawer.”
Xander pulled it open and looked around inside. “Hey, even more. Nice! Japanese brand. And more lube! Unopened. Well, looks like we have enough to get through the week. And we got some more cool stuff in here too.”
Giles had his face in his hands. “Xander, I beg you. Stop.” Willow went over to him and rubbed his back. Xander came over as well and put a hand on Giles’ shoulder.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re shy guy.”
“It’s all right. I invited you to look. My fault,” Giles said, through his hands.
“No, really, it was me.” Xander bent and kissed Giles’ red ear. Buffy made a frustrated face at him from behind Giles’ back. She kept rubbing his shoulders, and Giles slowly put down his hands. He picked up his glass again. That was how it was going to be, Willow guessed. He wanted it as much as they did, planned for it just like they did, but had inhibitions to get past. Probably he was upset about how much younger they were. And who knows, maybe there was something about his Slayer, too.
But the magic couldn’t be denied. They were one, now, somewhere deep inside.
Xander had unbuttoned his shirt. He held out his hand to her, and invited her onto the big bed. Willow got up with him. They picked up where they’d left off downstairs, kissing each other slow and soft. Xander knew all the places to touch her, and was so tender. Just like she’d remembered him. She was more hesitant with him, because it had been a long time. Xander undid her blouse, and took it off. She’d gone braless today, thinking of this moment tonight. Xander seemed to appreciate it, saying, “oh yeah” then bending down to kiss her breasts. Willow loved that. She lay back on the pillows and ran her fingers through Xander’s hair, urging him on. Soft and thick, a little springy. Nice hair.
Eventually they managed to get all their clothes off. Willow was spending a lot of time kissing Xander. She licked her way down his chest and over his tummy. She kissed his thighs, then tried out kissing the other Xander-bits right there. Xander said, “Mmm, please, yeah, suck me, Will. Do it.”
Xander scooched himself back against the headboard. Willow lay between his legs. “I’ve never done this before,” she said, looking up a little anxiously.
“It’s okay, Will. Just do what’s fun, and stop when you feel like it. Anything you try will feel good.” Xander stroked her face.
Willow got started slowly, running her hands all over Xander’s body, over the fur between his legs, then over his penis. It was bigger than Oz’s had been, definitely thicker. But Oz had been all-over compact, and Xand was a bigger guy. She licked the top, cautiously, all around that ridge, and surprise! It wasn’t yucky. It was like concentrated essence of Xander. And he made a nice sound when she did it, which was fun. Willow decided to give the project a thorough analytical basis: exactly which things would make Xander make the most noise? Or make him thrash hardest? Hands cupped around his balls like this? Squeezing a little? Scraping her teeth oh so gently up and down? Taking him all the way in as deep as she could, lips tight around him?
After a while, it seemed like anything would make him moan, then he was warning her, and then he was exploding into her mouth in sharp pulses and it was totally okay. Willow swallowed, and thought it was nice to have some of Xander inside her, part of her now. Though maybe that thought was too weird to say out loud.
Xander slumped back and looked like he’d be out of commission for a few minutes. Willow was all worked up. She looked over at Buffy and Giles. Buffy was sitting on Giles’ lap, with her arms around his neck. Willow beckoned, and Buffy nodded.
“Coming with me, Giles sweetie?”
Giles closed his eyes and shook his head. “Go ahead,” he said, in a funny voice. “I’m fine.”
Buffy gave Giles a long kiss, then got off his lap. She stripped off, efficiently, like she wasn’t feeling like wasting any time. She crawled right over to Willow and grabbed her for a long, sloppy kiss. She was different from Tara under Willow’s hands, a lot harder and stronger. But she had the same girl-bits, which Willow knew and loved. Buffy seemed to want to jump right into the whole same-sex experience feet-first. Or tongue-first. Maybe Willow could convince Buffy to use that tongue somewhere else.
As it turned out, yes. Easily. Willow got on her back, letting Buffy crawl on top where she’d have more control and could bail out if she wigged. Not that Buffy was looking like wigging. She gave her body to Willow with total trust.
Now this Willow was an expert on. She was pretty sure she could turn Buffy into quivering jelly before Buffy knew what was happening. Okay, she hadn’t expected this competitive streak to be there. Didn’t matter. Willow figured that the urge to bring her friend to orgasm after orgasm was totally cool. Buffy was easy. Buffy was fun. Buffy had erogenous zones on her erogenous zones. If Riley hadn’t been able to figure this out, then Riley had been a big dope. Buffy was a quivering mass in no time at all. Buffy surprised her, though, by figuring out which Willow-buttons to push pretty fast, and by maintaining control even when shuddering around Willow’s tongue. Slayer skill, probably. Very handy.
Before she knew it, Willow felt that taste in the back of her throat that meant she was nearly there, then she was saying something, she didn’t even know what, then she was coming with Buffy over her and Xander rubbing her feet.
Xander was all re-energized, it seemed. Maybe watching two women do it right next to you got men going. Or maybe it was just being nineteen. Willow had to sack out for a little, but Slayer stamina kicked in for Buffy, who was up and getting acquainted with those delicious Xander kisses.
“Just so you guys know,” Buffy said. “I’m on the Pill. If you’re clean, I’m good.”
“Music to my ears,” said Xander. Willow watched him kneel between Buffy’s legs. They both looked at her spread open before them, unashamed. Willow hadn’t seen a lot of women, but she thought Buffy was pretty, all clean lines and muscle. Judging by Xander’s face, he thought so too. Willow sneaked a peek at Giles. He was watching as well, drinking in Buffy with an awed and longing look. He had a hand cupped over the front of his jeans.
Xander slid himself home inside Buffy and groaned. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he said.
“Oh yes, we do,” Willow said, grinning at him.
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Xander withdrew and thrust once, hard. Buffy said “yeah”. At that Xander went into motion, hard and fast. Buffy lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders. Willow watched, fascinated. She’d never thought she’d be able to watch two people do it in person, so close to her. So close she could touch them. It was amazingly exciting to hear them and watch their bodies coming together. Willow knelt up and moved to where she could touch both of them at once. Xander slowed down a little and grinned at her. “C’mere,” he said. His fingers found Willow’s clit, circling around her, and just like that Willow came again and again, hanging onto Xander so she wouldn’t collapse.
She fell back on the bed when she’d had enough, and watched Xander and Buffy finishing. Their faces were so neat when they came, all red and squinchy and ecstatic. Willow could watch that every night for the rest of her life.
They hugged for a while afterwards, calming down and letting the sweat cool. Xander tugged at Willow’s arm, and pointed over at Giles. Giles’ eyes were closed, and his hand was moving slowly over the front of his jeans.
“Giles?” said Buffy, getting up.
He froze in place, looking horribly guilty. Buffy went over to him and put her hand over his. Willow got up and went to him and knelt in front of him. Xander came over too.
He was caught. Buffy held his hand in place, over his crotch, pressing down. He wanted to writhe against it, he was so desperately randy. Instead he hung his head, ashamed. Willow and Xander caressed his face and hair, lifting his chin until he was forced to meet their eyes.
“What do you want?” Buffy asked him. She kissed his lips, then asked again. Was that Xander’s hand on him, stroking his cock? God, it was. They knew what he wanted already; they had to. But they were insisting that he say it. He struggled to speak.
“All of you,” Giles said at last. “I want all three of you.” Willow pulled him to his feet. Xander’s hand stopped stroking and started unbuttoning. “Oh god, I can’t. Please. I need you so much and I can’t.”
“Ssh,” said Willow. “It’s okay. We’ll make it okay for you. We know what you need.” She lifted his shirt over his head. Xander slid his jeans down his hips. Buffy followed with his boxers, gently lifting the elastic over his cock. He stepped out of them obediently.
They guided him onto the bed. Buffy encouraged him to kneel up with his legs spread wide. The three of them surrounded him, hands on him, touching him everywhere, on his face, around his neck, over his chest, across his stomach, down his back, between his legs, along his cock, down his thighs. They knew him. Their fingers laid him bare. He had no secrets left.
He lunged to get off the bed. Buffy pinned him in place, her strong hands holding his together and still. He trembled against her. He watched Willow roll a condom onto Xander and slick lubricant onto it. Willow’s hands again, on his backside, clever fingers cool and slippery, sliding in and opening him, while Buffy stilled his helpless thrusts. Xander kissed him when he began to moan, wide mouth fastening wet over Giles’, his tongue tracing Giles’ lips. Giles realized he had surrendered. He had chosen to give himself to them. He stopped pushing against Buffy. He yielded his mouth to Xander, allowing his broad tongue in deep. Xander and Willow both pulled away and Giles whimpered in protest. Buffy laid a finger across his lips. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Xander isn’t going far.” And Xander hadn’t gone far, just around behind him. Giles felt the head of Xander’s cock nudge him.
“Okay?” said Xander.
“Yes, god, yes,” said Giles. “Take me take me take me.” Xander had begun invading him at the first yes, splitting him impossibly wide. The burn and the pleasure were both wonderful. Buffy still held him, giving him something to brace against. She’d moved a hand down to cup his balls, which was also wonderful.
“So tight,” Xander said. “Tight and virginal.” He pushed himself in a little further.
“I am,” Giles said. “Jesus. Xander.”
“Am I the first?” Xander said, voice rough in Giles’ ear.
“The first, the only, oh god, so good.”
Xander slipped deeper inside him, sheathed all the way. He held still a moment, letting Giles feel his body sunk deep inside. The feeling stunned him. He had never imagined it. He was utterly open and exposed. Giles’ cock twitched against his belly, painfully hard. Something soft touched it, soft and wet. He opened his eyes and looked down. Buffy, tasting him, and watching his face. He met her eyes and stayed locked on her as she mouthed her way down. He watched as she bent over him and took him in deep, her tongue stroking him. He almost came just at the sight of her lips closing over him.
Xander started moving just then, slowly pulling out then pushing himself back in. Giles cried out. Willow took his chin and turned him to face her. She looked him deep in the eyes.
“Take this gift, Giles,” she said. “We love you.” She kissed him.
Giles plundered her mouth, tasting Buffy on her lips, Xander on her tongue. When her fingers pinched his nipples and held on hard, he was undone, completely out of control and overwhelmed by sensation. He thrust forward into Buffy’s mouth, pulled back and impaled himself further on Xander’s cock. His moans spiraled up into full-throated cries, stifled by Willow’s mouth on his. He tore himself away from her to cry out his climax with head thrown back, shouting “yes” with each hard throb loosed into Buffy’s throat.
The three of them petted him down, Willow licking the tears from his face, Buffy gently kissing his chest, Xander holding him up with strong arms around his waist, still hard inside him. He made as if to pull out, but Giles grabbed his hands.
“Xander, please,” Giles said, gasping. “Stay inside. Need to feel you.”
“Yeah okay,” said Xander, voice thick with arousal. “Gonna come inside all three of you tonight. Make you mine.” He pushed Giles gently down onto the bed. Willow slipped a pillow under his hips. He spread his legs and offered himself up. Xander started moving inside him again, strong and slow. Giles moaned and whimpered as Xander found the magic spot over and over. Willow was close against his side, doing he didn’t know what with Xander.
Buffy moved over in front of him, her knees on either side of his face.
“Return the favor?” she said.
“Come down where I can reach you,” he said. She slid under him, knees up, feet tucked under his shoulders. It was all he could do to concentrate. His mouth trembled against her as Xander continued to thrust steadily. He traced around her opening with his tongue. He could taste Xander’s seed inside her. He was getting hard again, cock rubbing against the pillow under him. He licked up her center once, slow and strong, and found her clit. He didn’t know whether she liked it soft or hard, and couldn’t find breath to ask. His muscles were still trembling in the aftermath of orgasm. He braced himself on his right hand and slid his left around where he could reach her. He penetrated her in both places at once with thumb and finger and she cried out, clenching down on his hand. He thrust gently into her, licking at her in sync. She was so wet and tasted so good, like sex, like his Slayer.
Xander was moving faster inside him, pushing hard and deep. He could hear the other man groaning above him, and Willow’s voice urging him on. He writhed underneath Xander, bucking back into his pushes wantonly. He tried to keep a steady pace with Buffy, but Xander was clutching his hips and shouting, cock twitching as he came inside Giles. Then he was pulling out, and Giles wanted to weep at the loss. The ache was fantastic. He was still hard, still rubbing himself into the pillow, and Buffy was still unsatisfied in front of him. He could give her the strong pace she needed now. He listened to the cries of his beloved Slayer as his fingers moved within her, his tongue fluttering against her. Willow and Xander were talking to her, encouraging her, telling her to come. And then she was coming, shaking around his fingers, calling his name.
Giles sat up and mopped off his face. Buffy lay sprawled out beneath him, eyes closed, sated. Xander lay back as well, chest covered in sweat. Willow was next to him. He leaned against her, nuzzling into her hair, soaking in her scent of ritual herbs, patchouli, soap. She was lovely.
“What are we going to do about this?” asked Willow. She stroked her palm up along his erection. His breath came ragged.
“Willow,” he said, “I should very much like to…”
“Yes?” She stroked him again. He kissed her. So sweet.
“May I, may I make love to you?”
Her answer was to open another condom, this time for him. She handed it to him and he rolled it on, stroking himself and looking her in the eye. She lay back, between Xander and Buffy, and beckoned him down to lie over her. He entered her in one smooth thrust, knowing she would be slick and ready from her earlier orgasms. Then he remembered he had to be the first man who’d been inside her since Oz, last year. But she was beaming up at him, so she was fine. She wrapped her legs around his, her heels tucked comfortably behind his knees. She giggled as he moved inside her, happy little laughs that grew into gasps when he brought his thumb down to touch her clitoris.
“Gonna go on the pill,” Willow said to him.
“Yes?”
“So you can go bare inside me.”
“Yes, please, oh.”
“Yeah,” said Xander. “Wanna pump it into my Willow. What you think, Buffy?”
“I wanna see Giles come,” said Buffy. “I couldn’t see his face before. Wanna see him now.”
Giles felt himself get closer from just those words. “Willow first,” he managed to say, ever the gentleman.
“You hear that, Will?” Xander said. “Giles wants you to come. Wants to hear you. Wants to feel you all around him.”
Buffy’s hand took over for his. Giles leaned forward and braced himself up over Willow’s face. He bent down and kissed her nose. Xander’s hands were on her breasts, caressing. “Come for us, Willow,” he whispered. He could feel the beginnings of her orgasm, her legs stiffening, her breath going short. Then it was on her, and her body was spasming around his. He buried himself deep inside and let go for the second time, crying out wordlessly. He fell forward across her.
Some unknown time later, somebody was helping him to sit up. He took off the condom and tied it, tossed it at the bin. His backside burned. Somebody had bitten his neck, hard. He was sore all over, and sticky. He looked at the three of them, sitting around him, looking just as rumpled as he must be. Giles was deeply happy.
He pulled Xander to him and kissed him. “Next time,” he said, hoarsely, “you’re going to come in my mouth, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard. All three of you. You’re all mine. I love you all.”
“It’s entirely mutual,” said Xander. Willow and Buffy laughed. They coaxed him to lie down. Somebody rescued the duvet from the floor and spread it over them. Giles rested his head on somebody’s shoulder, he no longer knew or cared whose, and fell into sleep, perfectly relaxed at last.
The Road Runner no longer starred in Xander’s lazy Saturday mornings, though sometimes Xander wished it did. Like now. Giles was off jogging. Buffy and Willow were off together at some campus event. Xander was just off. So was Giles’ busted TV. Last night had been dull, too. Buffy and Giles had gotten in from a long patrol and thunked into bed immediately. They’d been asleep too fast even for a goodnight kiss. There were no household chores to do, no big bads to research, no donuts to fetch. A good dose of meep-meep and anvils would be perfect right about now.
Xander slumped over the couch and groaned. Another hour of this and he’d start reading demonologies for fun.
The front door to the flat opened, and a sweaty Brit-guy huffed in. He stopped a pace into the main room and bent to stretch. Left hand to right foot, then right hand to left foot, then straight over, palms on the floor, for a long space of breaths. Xander watched, fascinated. Giles in blue running shorts, showing off hamstrings and calves, in a sweat-darkened white t-shirt. He stripped off the shirt and used it to mop his face and chest. Giles apparently didn’t know Xander was there. Xander, who until exactly two days ago had been 100% het-boy, but who was now enjoying the view of Giles’ chest fuzz. And the hickey on his neck, which Xander was pretty sure was his fault. And his underarms, which Giles was giving a sniff.
“Smell good?”
Giles started. “Dear lord, it’s you. I thought everyone had left.”
Xander laughed. “Not me. Do they?”
“What?”
“Smell good.”
“Like I need a shower,” Giles said, shamefaced.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Xander hopped off the couch and invaded Giles’ space. He took a good whiff. Sweaty, with that fresh clean sweat smell, not yet yucky, and deep in it a note of pure Giles. Xander sniffed again. Wow, this was making him hard. Though god knew, Xander was nineteen and sometimes just the fact that the sun had risen that morning made him hard. It was wild that it was one, another guy, and two, Giles. What the hey. Xander pulled Giles’ face down and kissed him. This was good. Soulmate. Magical soulmate. Heart kissing the mind. Heart trying to climb inside the mind. Xander pressed himself against Giles and kissed harder.
“Steady on,” said Giles. His arms were around Xander’s waist, holding him up. Xander was a little embarrassed at how emotional he’d gotten just then.
“So, hey. What did you promise me the other night?”
Giles flushed. “Ah. Yes. That.”
“When do I get to collect?”
“Oh, ah. I rather thought… the others…”
Xander kissed him again. “We share our toys, Giles. I intend to spend quality alone time with all three of you. Lemme see when I can pencil you in. Ah… how about now?”
“I think I might have the hour free.”
Xander grabbed his hand and dragged Giles upstairs. The bed had clean sheets and a nice quilt, stretched tight. Xander hated seeing such absurd neatness. He flung himself facefirst across it, then rolled. Giles sat on the edge and bent to untie his running shoes. Xander shucked his jeans and his bowling shirt. Why waste time? He crawled over to Giles and kissed his way up the bare back. Giles turned and looked at him.
“Less clothes, Giles.”
“Fewer,” said Giles, but Xander could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He pushed his running shorts down, revealing a white jock strap. Okay, no shock there. The man had been running. The jock looked like containing all of excited Giles was a strain.
“You know, if I were gay, this would be like a million fantasies come true.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I am scoob-o-sexual. Fortunately for me, I know where I can find people of my kind to mate with. Leave it on. I think I’ll make some new fantasies just for you.”
Giles smiled at him, and murmured, “You have got a mouth on you.”
“A dirty one. C’mere and kiss me. Only way to shut me—” Giles stopped his mouth in the nicest way possible. And then kept it busy for some time. Xander, if he’d had his druthers, would have already proceeded on to the getting sucked and then the getting fucked, but Giles had this thing about the hugging and the kissing and the slow touches.
Giles seemed fascinated by something on Xander’s face.
“What?” said Xander. “What’s so interesting?”
“You,” said Giles. “Didn’t have a chance to touch you at all that night.” He was making up for it now, touching him everywhere, his eyes locked on Xander’s. His hand moved down and found Xander’s briefs, which were brief enough that Xander’s cock had already peeked its way out of the elastic. Giles helped it the rest of the way out.
“Never touched another man before,” Giles said, thoughtfully, stroking.
“No time like the present.”
Giles moved down between Xander’s legs. Xander scooted up a little, so he could watch. Giles seemed to be in no hurry to make good on the promise to suck him off. He was touching Xander here and there, cupping his balls for a moment, stroking down to his ass and back up, rubbing around his thighs. It was driving Xander mad.
“What’s the holdup? First time? Dunno what to do? What?”
“How hard can it be, really?” said Giles. His mouth hovered over Xander.
“Not much harder than this,” said Xander, with some difficulty. “Any time you wanna get started.”
“You need to learn patience,” said Giles. But he leaned forward that last inch and touched his tongue to Xander’s cockhead. Just a dab. Hot, soft, wet. “I’d like to take this slowly. Make sure I’m doing it right.”
“You talk too much. Got something else for that mouth to do.”
“Kettle and pot, Mr Harris.” Giles licked him, carefully, from root to tip. Xander shuddered. “Tell me what to do. Teach me.” Oh, god. He’d walked right into that one. Xander considered begging, then settled for telling Giles exactly what he could do with that hot tongue. Giles did what he was told, with some amount of voluntary experimentation with his hands. Xander stopped talking after a while. His breathing had shortened, and he’d started to thrust reflexively. Getting close. Very close. So of course Giles chose that moment to back off. Xander whimpered in protest.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Wanna come in your mouth. Wanna be your first. The first guy you swallow.”
Giles licked him, gently, all the way around the head. “And then?”
“You’re gonna fuck me. You’re gonna take me. Oh please, please make me come, make me come. Giles. Do me. Jesus!” Giles slipped a finger into him at the same moment that he took Xander deep into his mouth. Xander clutched his hands in Giles’ hair and thrust once, twice, and came wailing. Shot hard, into Giles’ throat. He felt Giles swallow. Then Giles released him and crawled up the bed to bring his face up next to Xander’s. Xander kissed him desperately. He tasted seawater, a little bitterness, but overlaid on Giles. Wide mouth, broad tongue. A guy. God, he tasted good.
Xander flopped back and let his heart rate fall. Couldn’t do anything for a minute. Giles scooted over at the nightstand and got some stuff out.
“Skip the condom,” Xander said. “Go bareback. Unless you got something to confess.”
“No, nothing.”
“Boring life, eh?”
“Hellmouth aside.”
Giles took off the jockstrap and looked grateful to have it gone. Xander watched him slick himself up. Uncircumsized. Nice shape. Thick. Thicker than the thing he and Anya had used. Xander was gonna feel that. He couldn’t wait. He pulled his knees up and waited for Giles to take the hint. Giles was taking it slow, like before, thinking about everything he did, slipping fingers inside Xander gently. Xander wanted an anvil-smash, not this slow tease. He wriggled and moaned impatiently.
“I take it that’s a hint,” said Giles, his voice husky.
“C’mon.”
Xander concentrated on the sensation of Giles pressing inside him, forcing him wide open. Giles’ eyes were closed tight, his mouth open. His face was screwed up in a look of utter concentration, almost of pain. Xander wrapped his legs around Giles’s middle and kept watching the big guy’s face. He pushed inside slowly. Xander squeezed and released, and was rewarded with a burst of obscenity from Giles. Great payoff there. Xander did it again.
“Bloody hell!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Trying not to come. Sweet Jesus.” Giles moved a little deeper in.
“Why the hell not? Fuck me. Come inside me. Wanna see you.”
Giles pulled almost all the way out then thrust back in with a harsh noise. Felt great. So intimate, letting somebody inside you like this. You were profoundly open to them. Xander wondered if it was always this way for women. Giles thrust inside again, his face transfigured with passion. Xander reached down and grabbed himself, stroking as he watched Giles move. It was unbelievable, the face of the man buried deep inside him, the utterly wonderful man who was Xander’s lover now. A week ago he was so pissed with him, thinking Giles felt contempt. Now Xander knew better, knew how Giles had loved them all, even before the spell that made them one.
“God, Giles, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
Giles ignited at the words, and he slammed into Xander, fucking him hard as promised. Xander groaned and stroked himself faster. Giles looked out of control, like he had that first night, transported out of himself. Xander felt it building, felt his balls tighten, and clenched down hard. Giles’s cock hit the spot, hit it again, and Xander came, chest straining up, legs locked tight around Giles. Giles was swearing again, and crying out incoherently, thrusting hard one moment and the next freezing, gripping Xander’s legs and gasping. It was beautiful.
Giles pulled out and collapsed forward onto Xander’s chest. Xander felt like the Acme rocket had flattened him into the cliffside. He was a pancake. No way he was going to ever move again. He stroked Giles’ hair. Nice hair. Soft. Sweaty. Giles also wasn’t looking like moving.
Eventually Xander stirred. “Jeez, man, you need a shower.” Giles harumphed. “And so do I, thanks to you. We’re stuck together.”
Giles peeled himself away. The two went downstairs together. Giles was all business in the shower. Xander tried fiddling around with the soap and Giles’ butt, with no luck. Giles grabbed his hands. “Xander, I’m not bloody nineteen any more. If you wear me out now, I won’t be able to get it up tonight. And I do have plans involving our lovely partners.”
“Oh. Hey. That’s cool. Can’t wait to watch. Scrub my back, big guy. I’ll talk you through it if you’ve never scrubbed anybody’s back before.”
Giles groaned, but got the loofah and scrubbed. Xander’s morning was a total win.
X
Xander let the fifteenth box of books drop. Just an inch from his hands to the top of the stack, but it drew a sharp look from Giles anyway. “Truck’s almost empty,” Xander said, with no trace of guilt. Books weren’t breakable. Not like the box with Willow’s knicknacks, which she really ought to have wrapped in more tissue paper than that. Xander would be visiting the Sanrio store next time he hit LA. He’d be hitting LA soonest. Say, as soon as he could convince Giles to do a little road trippin’. Which wouldn’t be until after they got him out of his old place and into the new house. Xander shoved himself back in motion. Down the hall, across the porch into the twilight, to the rental truck in the driveway.
Xander pulled himself up and into the back, headed for the last few boxes on this run. Giles leapt up just behind. Giles caught him, pinned him against the truck side, and licked the sweat from his neck. Xander grinned, threaded his fingers into Giles’ hair, let his head thump back against the truck. Giles finished off with a brush of his mouth against Xander’s ear, a happy wordless murmur. Xander’s neck was wetter than it had been when Giles started.
It was still new enough that they were finding excuses to touch like that. Over-enthusiastic reunions after ten-minute separations. Over-scrupulous attention to rumpled collars. Xander hadn’t been in a relationship long enough for that stage to wear off, honestly. There’d be something else tasty to follow it. He was confident.
He grabbed the last of the stuff in this load, a couple of framed prints under glass, and followed Giles back into the house.
W
The boys trudged past the kitchen doorway again, on their way to the back room they’d already dubbed Giles’ study. The boys. Willow liked calling Giles a boy. He always ducked his head and flicked that smile up when you said nice things to him. Like pretty much anything Willow could think to say. It was her new pastime, trickling sweet nothings over Giles. Buffy, oddly, needed a lighter touch, more careful compliments.
Back to work for now, though, unpacking the stuff they’d need right away, stacking plates on the island counter. Giles was the only one of them who had real kitchen gear. Who had anything more than a few boxes and suitcases to move. Willow’s dorm room hadn’t taken long to pack. She had clothes, mostly, books, magic equipment, and that was it. The little room she’d picked for her office had hardly anything in it.
Willow found a pitcher in a box and held it up to Buffy. “This look good?”
“Perfect!” Buffy grabbed it and piled ice into it without bothering to wash it out. “I cannot believe Giles found a place with a hot tub. I’ve always wanted a hot tub,” she said, dumping in the lemon juice.
“Guess Giles was right when he said,” here Willow’s voice dropped an octave and her accent shifted, “the rental market is favorable at present. Probably always is in the town o’ the Hellmouth.”
Buffy giggled. Ice tinkled in the lemonade pitcher, spinning in the wake of her spoon.
“Hey, Buff. Sugar.”
“Eep.”
Willow hopped up onto a stool and stuck her nose close to the pitcher. The sugar diffused into the lemonade in opaque clouds. Little particle storms. Pretty. The TA for Willow’s diffy-q class was working on fluid dynamics for his thesis. The whiteboard in his pokey office had been covered with the curly marks of integral calculus. They’d been like the magic notation in some of Giles’ advanced books, just past the edge of what Willow could understand, familiar signs in patterns that almost cohered. Soon. With Giles’ books at hand, sooner.
Buffy licked her fingers. “Okay, that’s good. Perfect post-Slayage pickmeup.” She stuck the pitcher into the fridge. The huganic fridge, with acres of space. Enough to indulge the tastes of the four roommates. Giles’ bok choy. Buffy’s Gatorade. Xander’s Vitamin-D full-fat milk. Willow’s perishable spell ingredients. Though maybe she ought to get a little fridge, just for her own room, for those. Somewhere not in the way. Wouldn’t want to confuse the salamander eyes with the capers.
Willow watched Buffy head out the door, stake in hand.
B
Deepening evening under a waning moon was a good time for patrol. Dark enough for the vampies to come out to play, not so late that the donors were all in bed. Just a quick patrol. A corner of the campus, the cemetery nearest their new place. Buffy’d seen anticipation in Xander’s face, and in the sweat-darkened trails down his chest, under his arms, at the small of his back. The thought was distracting. Had to have been, because the vamp turned out to have a knife and she didn’t notice it until it laid her arm open from elbow to wrist. And then the ankle wrenched as she went down under the vamp.
Her training held. A wriggle, a little application of leverage, and she was up and it was down.
Buffy slammed the stake home and staggered back a few steps. How bad? Blood all over the damn place yeah, pain yeah yeah tell me another, but how bad? She ripped her sleeve open the rest of the way and swabbed off the blood with it. No pumping, just oozing. Shallow. Surface wound. Slayer healing already in action.
Another goddamned gash in the arm. A day from now there’d be a pale rope striping where the knife had gone. A week from now, a pink line tracing the skin. A month, nothing, all her history vanished. Like those maps of Sunnydale Giles had, spanning a hundred years of growth, only in reverse: interstates fading to paved roads to dirt tracks to cow paths to nothing on Buffy’s skin. She bound it with the remains of the sleeve.
Buffy limped home, right arm cradled in her left. By the time she hit their new neighborhood, the bleeding had stopped. By their street, she wasn’t limping. By their front door, the only thing left over was the bloodstains on the laundry. Which never came out no matter how much soaking in cold water with extra-strength crap Buffy did. Buffy understood why Jet Li wore black.
Had she remembered her new key? No. But the front door was unlocked.
“Buffy.” Giles’ voice, warm and pleased, as always. His broad shoulders, framed in the kitchen doorway. His hand on a glass of lemonade. “How was—” Then he was on her, pulling her into the kitchen, pushing her onto a chair, straightening her arm, biting out questions, demanding that Willow fetch the first-aid kit now dammit. She finished his lemonade while he fussed and scrubbed and bandaged and asked her four times if she wouldn’t rather have stitches. He released her with a hard kiss. Passion disguised relief.
“I’ve got vamp dust all over,” Buffy said. “That hot tub soakable?”
Giles nodded. “Xander has towels out there already.”
G
The reaction set in after the crisis was dealt with. As always. Adrenaline carried one through the sticky bits, receding to leave one’s hands shaking and knees weak. The amount of blood on Buffy’s shirt had been horrific. Buffy herself hadn’t seem alarmed, but Giles struggled.
He followed her out to the deck slowly, reluctant to let her out of his sight. She was already in the water, injured arm braced along the concrete edging. They had no furniture for their deck, yet. Giles sat himself on the bare boards to watch Xander and Buffy soaking. Willow appeared a few moments later, with a sweatshirt for him. He pulled it on gratefully. Willow settled between his knees. The lights in the tub, refracted up through the water, shifted blue patterns over his hands rubbing her arms. He drifted his hand up to the top button of her sweater. “Would you like, er?”
“Nah, not tonight,” said Willow. Giles contented himself with holding her against his chest, snuggled close while they watched the other two celebrate survival. Giles had been given a surfeit of pleasure in the last two weeks. It was enough for tonight to sit back and enjoy the tingle of arousal. A little voyeurism. Watching Xander and Buffy discover first-hand why sex underwater was not always successful. Not nearly as bad as sex on the beach, as far as explosions of romantic notions went. Xander did seem to be managing anyway. Clever lad.
He met Giles’ eyes for a moment and flashed his teeth. “Need to christen the tub with all three of you.” Possessive as always.
It occurred to Giles that had the knife gone a little deeper, they’d be christening plastic hospital chairs right now. The morgue. Though they’d christened that already. His shoulders began to shake. Willow grabbed his hands where they were clasped against her, and squeezed. That was how it always happened. No grand fight against apocalypse, no magnificent sacrifice. Just a routine patrol and a lucky moment for the vampire. And another one called.
Xander pulled Buffy out of the tub. They finished on the wooden deck across the pile of towels, at Giles’ and Willow’s feet. Their bodies steamed in the dry cool night air. By the time they’d reached their crisis, Giles’ had passed. But he still insisted on holding Buffy close all through the night.
Xander
Xander was driving Giles’s car. Hands on the steering wheel, echoing the radio’s snare roll with his thumbs, freeway spinning past. Xander was allowed to drive Giles’ car. The other weren’t. Giles was the best driver of the four of them, thanks to experience and a Council high-speed driving course. He passed tips along to Xander. Many of them were useless with an automatic transition, and Xander could tell Giles would be second-guessing that decision for as long as he owned the Bimmer.
They were in LA, on the 405, heading south to West Hollywood. Xander was aiming them toward the mall where he knew he could replace Willow’s Badtz Maru. More than two hours to get down there. Xander wanted to make the trip count somehow. Not that getting another Badtz for Will didn’t count, just that Giles had stopped enjoying the drive when they hit the freeway maze that is LA. Crossed arms, set jaw, grumpy Giles. For Xander it was a thrill. It was the big city. It was the only big city he’d ever seen. He wondered if they were all like LA. Then he realized Giles had at least seen London, and Xander could just ask.
“So, uh, in terms of all the cities you’ve seen, however many that may be, how does Los Angeles rate?”
“Bloody awful,” said Giles.
Xander peeked at him. The G-man was wearing prescription sunglasses. His hair had grown long enough to be windblown, which was nothing compared to Xander’s shagginess, but for Giles was a new look. He was showing no signs of expanding on that answer, however.
Xander moved one lane to the right, prepping for their exit.
“Awful how? Like, compared to what?”
“Look at this place,” said Giles, sweeping a hand out into the slipstream. “Miles and miles of sprawl. Not a proper city. More an endless suburb that’s clotted up in a few places. San Francisco is the only real city in California.”
“You’ve been to San Fran?” Giles hmmed. “How’s it different?”
“Small city. Bright houses in the sunshine on the hills. Sailboats on the bay. And the fog, of course. It’s an American city. You need a bloody car to get about. But it’s better than this.” Xander felt a brush on his knee. “We could go, some weekend, if you wanted to see it.”
Xander grinned. “I’ll take you up on that.” Their exit was coming up, so he put all his attention back on driving.
The mall was a mall, but it was huger than anything Sunnydale had by acres. It was also swankier, though that wasn’t hard. Sunnydale was podunk. The mall still had that chain store cheese thing going. Junior high chic. Xander felt schlubby anyway. Giles seemed faintly disgusted by the whole experience, though he said nothing.
They got stuff for Willow first off, a pile of grumpy penguin gear that Xander felt should make up for the breakage and then some. Then they shopped for Buffy, which was harder. Xander knew Giles was still a little freaked by the knifing, wanted to fuss over her indirectly. He’d given her a curiously curved and exotic combat knife with a black blade and runes carved into the handle, sort of a Delta Force meets Druids thing. Xander knew, and Buffy knew, that this was how Giles said he loved her. That, and standing bewildered outside clothing stores wondering if she would like something.
“Trust me,” said Xander. “Do not buy clothing for women. They get to buy it for us. Doesn’t work the other way. Frilly underwear, yes. Jewelry, yes. Funky soap, yes.”
“Let’s get out of this dreadful place, then.” Giles drove them, just a short distance, north to Melrose. He parked and said, “Olivia took me to a shop here once.” They wandered up and down the street for a while, browsing. Xander had never seen such hip. His schlub factor had reached Level Unbearable.
They found funky soap products. Now it was Xander’s turn for bewilderment. Who knew there were so many things you could drop into a simple bath? He picked up a ball of stuff that smelled like Willow but looked like candy, and showed it to Giles.
“Patchouli, mostly,” said Giles. “Good choice for Willow. What do you think of this for Buffy?” He held out a chocolate bar, or at least that’s what it looked like.
Xander sniffed. Now that smelled like something he could eat. Whatever Buffy smelled like was fine by him. He shrugged helplessly at Giles.
Giles bought too much soap stuff. Bags full. Xander didn’t stop him. A few months of Buffy and Willow smelling like chocolate and honey and whatever that red stuff was would be just fine. Xander felt that maybe this trip had been worth it. They ate a late lunch at a place Giles picked out, California cuisine, the other diners people in clothes that made Xander want to pull his shoulders in until he vanished inside himself. Xander felt a nudge on his foot. Twitched back at first. Then he realized it was Giles, playing footsie. Giles blinked innocently across his glass of mineral water. Xander relaxed enough to taste his food.
On the way back to the car they passed one of those tattooing and piercing places. Xander stoped and looked inside. More unbearable hipness. Xander remembered how Giles had reacted last night when he’d taken that earring in his teeth and tugged. Tensed and shuddered and clutched the sheets, and then said Xander’s name in that breathy voice. Xander wondered if he’d like it the same way. It definitely looked cool. Right then, a lot of things about Giles were cool to Xander. His hair. The brown patch in his eye. His left-handedness. His accent. The fact that he’d lived in cities in hemispheres Xander had never visited. It was like Tweedman never existed. This was more of that first flush stuff, maybe.
A few minutes later, Xander had a little gold ring in his left ear, kinda like Giles’ silver one. He studied it in a mirror and it was cool, even in Xander’s ear under his lack of haircut. Okay, sure he could have had that done in Sunnydale, by a chick at a mall cart with a gun. But instead he had it done by a hip dude with tats who probably thought Giles was Xander’s boyfriend. Which he was. Xander pulled him over and kissed him just to make it clear to anybody looking. Giles turned bright red and cast his eyes down, but he kissed back. And this trip was now officially worth the drive.
Xander did a little dance with his shoulders and his hands on the way out of the shop.
Willow
The boys got home in the late afternoon. They immediately went to the kitchen and started making noise and tea. Willow closed up her Powerbook. She’d been working on the psych paper due Monday. One thing this house needed, she realized, was a decent network. She wanted to put a desktop computer in Giles’ study and get it on the net. Maybe see if they could afford a cable modem. Come to think of it, they hadn’t talked budget or rent or anything. Giles had just taken care of things. Something to investigate. Willow closed the door of her room behind her and followed the noise to the kitchen.
Xander had packages that he wouldn’t let her look at, and so did Giles. Xander hid them all away in his room. Giles was tired and grumpy after the drive. He sat slumped at the island counter, waiting for the kettle to boil with ill grace. Both of them were windburned and sunburned. Xander made a face at Giles behind his back, for Willow to see. He pointed at Giles then at the deck. Willow nodded. She went to grab her robe and a pile of towels.
“Get in the tub,” Willow told him. “I’ll bring your tea out to you.”
When she joined them out on the deck, Giles looked a lot more relaxed. He took the tea happily, sipping and resting the mug on the edge. Willow undressed and plunked in. Hot tub good. Hot tub best invention ever. Hot tub almost good enough to make up for the five hours Willow had just spent hunched in one position working on her paper.
Buffy showed up, and muttered something about the college library and a paper and how much she hated psych these days. Willow knew that meant a study session with Buffy some time soon, to straighten out her syntax and her footnotes. Though maybe Giles could be persuaded to help. Buffy listened to him better than she listened to Willow. Not that Buffy listened to anybody much. That was one independent Slayer.
Willow stretched out, letting her feet drift up to the surface. Giles took her feet and swung them around to his lap. He fidgeted with her toes, and Willow sighed. Giles made a thoughtful noise at her, then got serious and worked his thumbs over her foot. Willow groaned.
“Where did you learn to do that?”
“Council class.”
“Woah,” said Xander. “How to Drive Like a Maniac, How to Skewer Mayors, and How to Massage Your Slayer. Eclectic.”
“Part of the physical therapy coursework. Like the first aid training. The Slayer is an athlete. A machine, from their point of view. Massage is simply a tool for keeping her in fighting trim. This is how one massages one’s Slayer’s foot after a hard patrol.” He did Willow’s left foot. Giles concentrated on pressure points, which he said were chi points. When Willow winced, he asked if she’d been having headaches, and nodded when she confessed she had. “This will take care of it,” he said, and made her wince some more until suddenly her foot felt good. Buffy and Xander bent over Willow’s legs, watching carefully.
“Now this,” Giles said, “is not something the Council taught me. One must never massage one’s Slayer this way.” He took Willow’s right foot and did something else entirely to it, with slow strokes and soft touches on each of her toes. Willow shivered, and felt her whole body loosen just from a touch on the ball of her foot. Warmth spread out from her chest, trickling down to her hands and feet, spiraling back to a hot knot of arousal. She gasped. She met Giles’ eyes. He smiled at her, a little shy, a little proud, most definitely affectionate.
“Massage type B,” said Xander. “The oh my god, sex with you now massage.”
Willow whimpered. “Yes, please.”
Giles tugged her over and settled her on his lap, straddling him. He didn’t seem in any particular hurry. He never was. He was patient, cautious almost. Xander could be persuaded in about ten seconds flat. Giles seemed to need more of a reason, if that made sense. How much of that was being nineteen versus being mid-forties? How much of that was being Xander versus being Giles? Check back in twenty-five years to see, she guessed. It was getting hard to think about, with Giles working his way down her neck. Lick. Kiss. Bite, oh so gently. Then he’d breathe on the place he bit. Buffy was behind Willow, doing something to the back of her neck. Willow couldn’t stop whimpering.
Buffy stopped suddenly. “Front door,” she said. “Anybody expecting anybody?” At their head shakes, “I’ll get it.”
Buffy planted one hand on the concrete and surged out of the tub. Sometimes Willow forgot how strong Buffy was, how coordinated. Buffy tended to suppress it in everyday life, lest she slip up in front of people who didn’t know the secret. Buffy grabbed the terry robe Willow had brought out for herself, with an apologetic grimace, and vanished into the house.
Giles held onto her still, but stopped what he had been doing with his hands and mouth. He was distracted, paying attention to any noises that might drift from the house. Xander had come to point as well, eyes on the door to the kitchen. Thank you, Hellmouth. Willow could hear voices, maybe a woman talking to Buffy, but not who it was or what they were saying. Buffy didn’t sound upset, whoever it was. Willow leaned forward to rest her cheek against Giles’ broad chest. Giles’ arms closed around her, and he kissed her hair.
The door to the kitchen slid open, rumble, thump. Buffy’s voice, “Uh, mom…”
“Uh oh,” said Willow, very quietly. What to do? Get off Giles’ lap and flash Mrs Summers, and incidentally expose Giles’ excited man-bits? Or freeze in place and hope it all went away? Giles lifted his arms and held her tighter, screening her against his chest. Option two, it seemed…
“What’s going on here?”
But nope, not going to go away.
Buffy
“A little California hot tubbin’,” said Xander, in a completely relaxed tone of voice, bless him.
“With that man? Like that?”
“Uh, mom,” Buffy said again. She had no idea how to avert this apocalypse. ‘It isn’t what it looks like’ wouldn’t work, because it was what it looked like. ‘Mind your own business’ was the most attractive option.
Giles, in mild mode, spoke. “Er, Joyce, would you give us a moment to get dressed?”
“What for? If you can do that in front of my daughter, you can do it in front of me.”
Giles ducked his head, but this head duck was not shyness. Buffy could see in his shoulders that he was angry. Willow had pressed herself up against Giles’ side and crossed her arms over her breasts, eyes wide and fearful. At the sound of Xander splashing into motion, Buffy saw that Giles wasn’t the only angry one. Xander’s jaw was set. He stepped up out of the tub and onto the deck, staring at Joyce the whole time. Joyce gasped, went red, and turned away. She marched back through the kitchen door without another word. Xander met Buffy’s eye and nodded to her, teeth still clenched. Buffy grabbed enough of her clothes to get decent and threw them on. She left the robe for Willow, then followed her mother into the house.
Joyce was seething in circles around the kitchen, picking up pans and dropping them again. Buffy pinched her nose and closed her eyes, in an unconscious imitation of Giles. She’d known her mom was going to have a hard time with the idea that Buffy was doing the polyamory thing. This was about the worst possible way for her to find out about it. This was not going to end well. The only thing to do was try not to make it worse.
“I thought you were living with Xander and Willow,” Joyce said.
“I am.”
“I didn’t know that man was here.”
“Well, he is.”
“Was he doing with Willow what it looked like he was doing?”
“That’s kinda their business, not yours.” Uh oh, wrong thing to say.
“It is my business if my daughter is living here!”
It dawned on Buffy that she and her mother had slept with the same man. The ick factor there was high. Okay, sure, magic curses had been involved with her mom, and she knew with that post-unification certainty how embarrassed and remorseful Giles felt about the whole thing. Or had felt; it had happened a long time ago. But her mom, well, maybe her mom hadn’t had the same reaction. Maybe her mom hadn’t let it go.
Oh boy.
The other three came through the door just then, Willow wrapped to the ears in her robe, Xander’s protective arm around her. Giles hovered behind, in his jeans and a damp t-shirt.
Joyce addressed Willow. “He’ll do to you exactly what he did to me. Use you, have his fun, and then drop you. Don’t trust him. He’s a predator.”
Willow said nothing. Xander guided her through the kitchen to the hall, and vanished with her. Buffy looked at Giles, who was standing by the sliding door with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor.
“I hear ya, mom, you and Giles have some history. Leave the rest of us out of it, okay?”
Xander stormed back into the kitchen. He stalked right up to Joyce and got in her face. “You say one more nasty thing about Giles and you’re out of here and not coming back. You make Willow cry again and you’re gone. Leave my lovers alone.”
Okay, no blessing Xander for that one.
Joyce’s face had gone pale. “Your lovers. You mean you’re all… This, this is sick,” she told Buffy.
“Okay, that’s enough, Mom. You’re leaving, and we’re talking later, when you’re calmer.” Buffy took her mother’s arm and got her in motion with Slayer strength.
“You need help. That man has done something to you,” said the woman who most of the time acted like Buffy’s mom. And then she finally went out the door.
“That went well,” said Buffy. Xander came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him.
“She’ll calm down in a day or two, Buff. She’s done this before.”
“Shoving her face in it didn’t help, Xan.”
Xander rubbed his nose. “Are you pissed with me?”
“Kinda. I mean, gas on the fire.”
“I just got so mad. You guys, you’re all, I just. God, don’t have words. People don’t get to fuck with you guys in front of me. You can take it, but Willow and Giles, well, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. Giles screwed up with her, I think.” Buffy shrugged.
“By fucking her?”
“No, that was the candy. More not talking to her afterwards.” Coward’s way out of the mess. Buffy sighed. She might have dealt with it by avoiding somebody like her mom, too. It wasn’t like she and Giles had been getting along before that. Oh well. Nothing to be done. “How’s Will?”
“Freaked,” Xander said. “Didn’t like being naked in front of the rampaging mother.”
“Go fuss over her or something. I’ll go kick Giles.”
Xander kissed her, then took off down the hall to Willow’s room. Buffy went looking for Giles. He wasn’t in the kitchen. She tried his room upstairs, but he wasn’t there either.
Buffy flopped down on the big bed to do some thinking. She had a lot of thinking to do. Losing her mom sucked, even if she was betting it was temporary. She liked her mom. She liked the kooky way her mom tried to do things right, most of the time, reading books about dealing with teenagers. Buffy wondered if she’d go the library to find a self-help book on this. Children in Magical Foursomes: a Workbook for Parents. Or maybe a support group. It would have been nice to ask her mom for advice about where her life was going.
And where was that, anyway? College was doing all right. Her freshman year was looking like it would end a success. Relationships, covered, no problems at present. Money, okay for the moment thanks to her dad’s latest guilt-check, but she’d need to find a summer job. Especially if mom stayed mad.
Slaying. Mixed. Buffy ran her hand along her right arm, where she could still feel the faint trace of scar tissue. That problem was something she could take action on.
Giles
Giles went out to the back deck and turned off the lights in the hot tub and turned on the filter. He stood for a while, looking up at the darkening sky. Wispy clouds over dusky blues and oranges, dark silhouettes of trees against them, the stars winking in. Venus was a morning star just now, but perhaps he could spot Mars. He studied the western sky while the yard around him grew dark. Nothing to see tonight. He collected the tea mugs and sipped idly at his. It had gone cold. He hadn’t acquired the American habit of drinking iced sweetened tea, and the rapidly cooling evening wanted hot drinks anyway. The damp shirt clung to his chest. He carried the lot inside and slid the door shut behind himself.
The kitchen was overly bright after the deck. The house was silent. He wasn’t sure where the others were; hiding or huddling together to recover from the blasts Joyce had delivered. Giles washed out the mugs. The running water and the pottery banging against the sink rang loud in his ears. Giles still stung where the buckshot had hit. Was he what she had called him? No. The three of them had made their desire for him clear. Over and over. He wrung out the sponge and dried his hands. He considered starting dinner. Perhaps the others were hungry, even if he wasn’t.
He wandered down the hall. Willow’s door was closed, a bar of light visible beneath it. He heard voices, talking quietly. Xander was in there with her. Willow would need comforting after being exposed to an outsider like that. The experience was too near her nightmares to be shrugged off. He hovered a moment, listening. Xander said something, then he heard an exasperated laugh from Willow. She would be all right; Xander knew what to do. Where was Buffy? He climbed the stairs, silent on his bare feet. There she was, in the bedroom, which they called his room, even though they all slept there. She was on her back on the bed, head at the foot, light off, looking at the ceiling. Or at nothing. He pulled a dry t-shirt from a drawer, at random, and swapped it for the damp one.
He stretched himself out beside Buffy and laced his fingers together behind his head.
“Hey,” said Buffy.
“Would you like some dinner?”
“Nah. I’ll get something later.”
“You all right?”
Buffy sighed. “This will probably sound cold, but I was kinda waiting for something like that to happen. Mom was never going to take it well. Even if I had a chance to break it to her gently.”
Giles grunted. Likely correct. His involvement put it beyond the pale. If it had been just Willow and Xander, Joyce might have been able to adjust eventually. She might still adjust, by deciding to pretend none of it existed and dealing with Buffy exclusively.
“You gotta admit, it’s a pretty weird setup.”
“It’s nobody else’s business.”
“Yeah, but it’s still weird.”
“I’ve seen stranger.” And indeed he had. A couple of the covens he’d been privileged to visit had been extended families. Not as tightly-bonded as theirs, larger, more casual, but quite non-traditional.
“Just another weird-ass development in the life of the Slayer. Though as Slayer stuff goes, gotta say this development is pretty good.”
“I must agree.”
Buffy sat up and climbed onto him. She straddled his hips and played with the top button of his jeans. Giles rested his hands on her knees, absurdly grateful for the affection implied by her touch. “I was thinking. Two things. First, that knife is really cool, but I don’t know how do to much with it other than cut ropes and stuff. Second, that my honing skills are kinda crappy. I totally missed the fact that the vamp had a knife, and I should have noticed. I haven’t trained in ages. Even when I did train with Riley, it was sloppy. I could kick his ass with one hand tied, so I got worse instead of better.”
He rubbed her thighs gently, through her jeans. “I warned you about that.”
“Yeah, yeah. Look, the point. The point is obvious. We have to start training again. You and me.”
Giles’ breath caught. He’d been hoping, but hadn’t known how to bring it up. Had been afraid that any pressure from him would be resented. “Of course, Buffy,” he said, softly. “I’m yours.”
“Serious training. All the stuff I wouldn’t do before, like the meditation stuff. And knife fighting.” She grinned and patted his chest. “So I can do something with that sexy blade.”
“I believe something might be arranged,” he murmured. He trailed his thumbs up along the seams of her jeans, up to her hips.
“Do we do anything official? Or just say ‘me Slayer you Watcher’ and presto?”
“Nothing I know of. Though perhaps I could ceremoniously drop a large book in front of you.”
Buffy laughed. She reached down and removed his glasses and tossed them at the nightstand. They landed and slid to a safe rest. Buffy was a terror at darts as well, when she let herself be herself. Be the Slayer. Giles loved it when she used her skills so comfortably, when she vaulted one-handed over railings, when she tossed a tomato in the air and sliced it before it landed, when she threw a rock into the face of a demon from the other side of the cemetery. He lay back and smiled at the woman leaning over him, pressing against him so deliciously. He reached up, gently, and slid his hands over the warm skin of his Slayer.
There were times when he liked to hang on the periphery, watching. Thinking, as befit his role in this odd group soul. That's what he had decided it was: that their soul-essences had been swirled together during the unification spell. They were still unified, on the spiritual plane. There was, to his knowledge, no way to undo it.
And he wouldn't have wanted to.
He was their Mind, so he had done the research, when it had begun to be obvious to the four of them that the spell had wrought lasting change. He'd reached his conclusions, and presented the data to Buffy. Buffy was their tactical thinker, their motive force. Their Hand. She'd absorbed the news, nodded, and said she liked her new team.
Right now he watched her clever hands demonstrate a new skill. He'd given her a book on massage, and she'd conned it for secrets. She exposed her mastery now, in her exploration of Xander's back. Xander had spent a day lifting and carrying rebar onsite, and had fallen into bed more or less fully clothed. Willow and Buffy had undressed him enough to touch skin.
The spiritual union hungered to express itself on the physical plane as well, skin to skin. Not always in sex. Sometimes in simple affection like this, with Buffy's small strong hands tracing the course of Xander's muscles, charting the confluences of tendon and bone.
"Here," Buffy said. "Hot spot." She leaned and wiggled her hand. Xander groaned.
Willow leaned close to Buffy and rested her hand over Buffy's fingers. A slighter hand, at the end of a sleek arm. Willow lacked Buffy's muscle, but she had another sort of power. Energy. Their Spirit. Her fingers brushed Xander's back, and Giles felt a trickle of power flow. Xander groaned again, more softly.
"I feel it, yeah. It's totally a knot. And it's hot."
"Xander's been hunching his shoulders."
"Don't do that, Xan!"
"Easy for you to say." Xander's voice was muffled by pillows.
Giles liked to sleep in pajamas. Flannel in winter-- or what passed for it here, in the cooler rainy season-- and cotton in summer. He'd compromised on just the pajama pants, in deference to their wishes, and to his own hunger for touch. He wondered if prolonged separation from the group would drive them mad. A weakness if so. Something to investigate. He leaned on his elbow, wearing his pajama pants and nothing else, and watched his lovers touch.
There were many things he could not understand about the world and humans, the underworld and demons, many secrets he had not explored. Middle age had revealed to him merely that whatever he uncovered, he would find more secrets beyond. This was one, how he could lie here and watch his three lovers move together and not know which one he desired more. The question was meaningless.
Giles watched Buffy and Willow soothe Xander's shoulders. They were wonderful shoulders, broad and strong. Giles liked them. He'd been to bed with a man before, with more than one, in drug- and magic-fueled orgies that had left him fuddled the next morning about exactly what he'd done and whether he'd liked it. Until Xander had possessed him, he'd had no idea he even wanted to be taken. But he had. And did. And he wanted to take. To give. To use and be used.
Scant weeks ago, he'd almost given up the hope of ever being allowed to touch anyone again. It had been the depression speaking, he knew, making maudlin proclamations of eternal loneliness. But that had been how he'd felt. He'd drunk himself to indifference and begun reviewing what he'd ship back to England and what he'd sell here. He hadn't expected to see his three comrades again.
And here they were, in his bed.