![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
katleept.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
giles_shortsTitle: A Watcher's Sweet Temptation
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge: Snow
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 767
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not the author, and are used without permission.
It has been a long time since Sunnydale last saw snow, and that time was marked by things better left unmentioned as they walk alone and yet together through the night. He glances at her from time to time, taking in the sight of the remarkable young woman she has become and the woman she is becoming. England beckons, and he knows he will have to answer its call soon, but not tonight. Tonight, he is by her side, and there is nowhere else he would ever be as long as she needs him.
But that's the crux, isn't it, he thinks again, glancing at her once more. She no longer needs him. The Slayer has outgrown her Watcher, though they are both to loathe to admit it. Their relationship is tentative but nothing like it once was. He swallows hard and forces his gaze away, but eventually, his eyes steal back to her beauty as they always do.
He is surprised to no longer find her by his side. His hand goes for his stake, but even as his fingers close around the hard, comforting wood, he realizes they are not being attacked. He is puzzled to find her laying in the snow, but then he stands and gawks like a man half his age.
She is laying on the ground, looking up at him. Her long, blonde hair has pulled beneath her, and there is a smile on her face sweeter and more beguiling than anything he has witnessed in a long time. "Buffy?" He tries to speak her name. It almost sticks in his throat.
She holds up a hand to him. "Join me, Giles?" she asks, and suddenly, they both know she's not simply talking about laying in the snow.
There are impressions in the freshly fallen snow where her arms were sweeping a scant moment before he looked at her. She was making Angels, he realizes, but she is no Angel. Neither is he. He remembers his first love and how much he hated her being with him, but as much as he detested a Slayer loving a Vampire, he knows he is even worse for her.
Still, he aches to take her hand and join her. He yearns to feel her in his arms as he loves her tenderly and shows her all the gentility in the world. She's never really had an easy life when it comes to romance. She's never known how gentle love should be, how sweet romance. He could show her. It is everything he wants, but it is also against everything in which he believes.
A man her age would have already taken her into his arms and be ravishing her lips, at least as best as a whelp could do. He's never known a man her age who could truly ravish anything properly. But that doesn't mean she needs him. He is more than twice her age. She doesn't need him. She doesn't need his age, and she doesn't need his burdens.
A man half his age would be hesitant, but he would succumb. She's looking at him so sweetly, so imploringly. He couldn't resist. He would melt into her, and for a while, their union would be sweet until time, their lives, or she herself parted them.
A man stronger than he, a man weaker than he, would take her hand. He would succumb. He would join her and show her all the wonders of the world she has yet to see. He would teach her so much. He would love and protect her until his death.
But as her Watcher, Giles knows he already will. He knows, too, what he must do. It would tear apart a younger man to not be able to join her. It would rip into him to have to walk away from what she is so freely and readily offering. It would make him question everything about himself.
It still breaks this old man's heart as he turns away. "Come, Buffy," he instructs. "We have work to do."
Although he is no longer facing her, he can see the pout she gives him. He could see the plea in her beautiful, green eyes. He feels his knees go weak. His fingers curl with his desire to hold her, but he stiffens them into fists, keeps his back to her, and walks away, knowing she will eventually follow as she always does. England is calling, he thinks again, and soon, soon, he must answer before he caves to temptation, becomes everything he is not, and destroys her life forever.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character/Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Rating: PG/K+
Challenge: Snow
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 767
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not the author, and are used without permission.
It has been a long time since Sunnydale last saw snow, and that time was marked by things better left unmentioned as they walk alone and yet together through the night. He glances at her from time to time, taking in the sight of the remarkable young woman she has become and the woman she is becoming. England beckons, and he knows he will have to answer its call soon, but not tonight. Tonight, he is by her side, and there is nowhere else he would ever be as long as she needs him.
But that's the crux, isn't it, he thinks again, glancing at her once more. She no longer needs him. The Slayer has outgrown her Watcher, though they are both to loathe to admit it. Their relationship is tentative but nothing like it once was. He swallows hard and forces his gaze away, but eventually, his eyes steal back to her beauty as they always do.
He is surprised to no longer find her by his side. His hand goes for his stake, but even as his fingers close around the hard, comforting wood, he realizes they are not being attacked. He is puzzled to find her laying in the snow, but then he stands and gawks like a man half his age.
She is laying on the ground, looking up at him. Her long, blonde hair has pulled beneath her, and there is a smile on her face sweeter and more beguiling than anything he has witnessed in a long time. "Buffy?" He tries to speak her name. It almost sticks in his throat.
She holds up a hand to him. "Join me, Giles?" she asks, and suddenly, they both know she's not simply talking about laying in the snow.
There are impressions in the freshly fallen snow where her arms were sweeping a scant moment before he looked at her. She was making Angels, he realizes, but she is no Angel. Neither is he. He remembers his first love and how much he hated her being with him, but as much as he detested a Slayer loving a Vampire, he knows he is even worse for her.
Still, he aches to take her hand and join her. He yearns to feel her in his arms as he loves her tenderly and shows her all the gentility in the world. She's never really had an easy life when it comes to romance. She's never known how gentle love should be, how sweet romance. He could show her. It is everything he wants, but it is also against everything in which he believes.
A man her age would have already taken her into his arms and be ravishing her lips, at least as best as a whelp could do. He's never known a man her age who could truly ravish anything properly. But that doesn't mean she needs him. He is more than twice her age. She doesn't need him. She doesn't need his age, and she doesn't need his burdens.
A man half his age would be hesitant, but he would succumb. She's looking at him so sweetly, so imploringly. He couldn't resist. He would melt into her, and for a while, their union would be sweet until time, their lives, or she herself parted them.
A man stronger than he, a man weaker than he, would take her hand. He would succumb. He would join her and show her all the wonders of the world she has yet to see. He would teach her so much. He would love and protect her until his death.
But as her Watcher, Giles knows he already will. He knows, too, what he must do. It would tear apart a younger man to not be able to join her. It would rip into him to have to walk away from what she is so freely and readily offering. It would make him question everything about himself.
It still breaks this old man's heart as he turns away. "Come, Buffy," he instructs. "We have work to do."
Although he is no longer facing her, he can see the pout she gives him. He could see the plea in her beautiful, green eyes. He feels his knees go weak. His fingers curl with his desire to hold her, but he stiffens them into fists, keeps his back to her, and walks away, knowing she will eventually follow as she always does. England is calling, he thinks again, and soon, soon, he must answer before he caves to temptation, becomes everything he is not, and destroys her life forever.
The End
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}