Title: Tweedy Book Guy
Author: Joanna Date: Dec 18, 2003
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Buffy/Giles friendship
Summary: Giles has a secret vice.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters.  They belong to Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy. This is purely for fun.
Spoilers: Post-series

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Short fic in reponse to Gileswench's Monday Mini Challenge, which read:

Giles has a secret vice.

Post-series, Buffy/Giles friendship, not much else to say about it. Insert standard disclaimer here :-)

Tweedy Book Guy

He had come to visit her, even in Sacramento, where they were staying with her Aunt Maureen until they figured out what to do with their lives. Giles had to leave them before they got to even this stage of hellmouth recovery---they were still loitering around Angel's hotel in shell shock when he was called away. Council stuff, but him in charge, this time. He had promised to visit as soon as he was able, and he kept his word. Good old Giles.

As Buffy sprawled decadently on the plaid plushy couch in her aunt Maureen's living room, she heard the voices of laughter coming from the kitchen, where Giles and Dawn and Maureen and her cousin Katherine were cleaning up from dinner. She had been exempted from that chore so she could relax for a few minutes before heading out for a quick patrol, but with word getting out about the new slayer army, the forces of evil were laying low, which suited Buffy just fine. Giles had promised her a Scrabble game when she got home, and she wanted to be uninjured and unexhausted for it. Between the 'no foreign words, this means you, Giles' rule and the battered 1973 edition Official Scrabble Player's Dictitonary that Aunt Maureen had dug up for her, she had a shot of holding her own for once. She had been dying to have him back for a visit all month so she could try out her new geek skills.

Business first though. She made her rounds through the cluttered but homey living room, gathering her jacket, her bag, a granola bar for the walk home after. With unexpected contentment, she noted the signs of Giles already settling in perhaps more than he realized: the three sweaters Aunt Maureen had washed for him, neatly folded in a stack on the ottoman, waiting to be taken upstairs. The cloth-bound diary and fountain pen, forgotten on the coffee table when dinner was announced. The antique leather book cover, worn and soft with age, that protected his rare historical volumes from the elements. She ran a finger along its leather spine, then picked it up, idly flipping through the pages. She had been expecting to see some thousand year old pictures of demons, maybe something dull and unintelligible in Sumerian, or Cueniform. But what she saw instead...was even worse.

The book fell out of her hands with a squeak of distress. "Giles!"

She heard murmurs in the kitchen, then he came running. "Buffy, what is it? Are you all right?"

She pointed to the offending book. "What is that?"

With a casual shrug, he sat down on the couch beside her, retrieving his book from the floor.

"You thought you had us all fooled, with the fancy leather cover and the mustiness, and the oldness. And all this time..."

"Not ALL this time," he corrected softly.

"It protects my books from wear and tear," she parroted in a bad English accent. "Truly the only civilized way to enjoy one's treasured volumes...and all this time..."

"Excuse me," he said. "Not ALL this time. Honestly, Buffy, do you really begrudge me a little light reading? I've had a long flight, and I couldn't exactly spend it on the standard fare, not in such a public venue..."

"And this is the best you could come up with?"

He frowned. "I was not aware I had to justify such things to you."

She was instantly contrite. "Sorry! God, Giles, I don't know what's...look, there's nothing wrong, I guess. Just surprised me a little. I mean, you never exactly struck me as the Harlequin type, that's all. Especially not the Harlequin Special Edition Double Volume Blaze of Passion Series type. Do you...do you do this often?"

He shrugged. "It's a series. Whenever a new one comes out."

"And is this...look, you're pretty hot, you know. I mean for someone your age and all. You actually could get a real woman..."

"I assure you," he chuckled. "It's not about that."

"Well?"

"Look, Buffy, sometimes I just like to relax a little. Unwind. Same as anyone."

"Ewwww! Giles, please!"

"Oh, for god's sake. When I say relax, I mean relax. Comfy clothes, mug of tea, roaring fire, book tucked under the blankie."

She blushed. "Of course. That's...what I thought you meant. But Giles, romance novels? What could somewhat like you possibly see in..."

"Well, it's like anything else," he said. "It has its own conventions, and within the genre, there are authors who handle these things with better adeptness and with less. It's not ALL trash. I tend to prefer the series books---the writers are a little more careful, and you know what you'll be getting yourself into as far as the story goes."

She joined him on the couch. "So what's this one about?"

"Actually, you might like it," he told her. "It's very educational."

She arched a brow.

"The main character is an archaeologist," he explained. "They've actually portrayed that side of it fairly accurately. Anyway, she's spent the last two volumes getting herself to Africa to work on a tomb."

"It took her two volumes to do this?"

"Well, there were some complications. The sexist boss, the sexist corrupt government officials, to say nothing of the plane crash in the mountains of Switzerland..."

"Oh, of course. There would be one of those."

"Anyway, she's at the tomb now, and she's already survived a flood and an infestation of fire ants. She and the sexist boss have just been trapped by a cave-in, and I think we're coming up on a romantic interlude."

Buffy made a face. "She has sex the sexist boss?"

"Oh good heavens, no. She has sex with the local priest who was brought in to exorcise the tomb of evil spirits."

"Ah."

"Come to think of it, we haven't seen much of the evil spirits yet. Perhaps they'll show up near the end to kill the sexist boss." He looked suddenly hopeful. "Or do you suppose they're saving the spirit possession for a whole other volume?"

"One can only imagine. Guess I should leave you to it, huh? Get yourself all...um, relaxed, so that I can whup you at Scrabble when I come home from patrol?"

He was already absorbed in his book, and he waved her absently away.

"Um, Giles?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Just tell me you aren't one of those people who buy Playboy magazine 'for the articles' or something?"

"Good heavens, no."

She turned to leave, satisfied that all was right with her world again.

"I don't NEED to BUY it," he called playfully after her. "I can borrow it from Xander any time I..."

She put her hands over her ears, humming loudly as she stepped outside.

the end

Joanna :-)
(feedback loved and adored)