Helpful Guy
By NautiBitz

IN HEAT VARIATIONS
Helpful Guy

Author: NautiBitz (nautibitz@yahoo.com)
Summary: A slew of displaced demons are desperate for potential mates--and Slayers happen to fit the bill. Their pheromone heat wave gets Buffy hot and bothered, and there's only one way to get her back to fighting form... In this installment, Buffy goes to find Giles. It's sort of like 'Helpless', only not.
Timeline: This story takes place in Season 3.
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Rating: NC-17.
Author's Note: This is a standalone installment in the 'In Heat – Variations' collection, an offshoot of my Buffy/Spike 'In Heat' series. Just for fun, I decided to use the basic plot to pair Buffy up with EVERYONE. Separately, that is. Most of the time.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. 20th Century Fox Corp owns everyone but me.
Distribution: Ask first, please.
Dedication: To KJ Draft, who's almost as much of a perv as I am!
Feedback: Oh yeah.
Completed: January 2003


Buffy stumbled through the library doors. Gotta find Giles...figure out...what's...happening to me...

"Giles?" she called out. The lights were on, he had to be here.

"In here," he answered from the office.

Gripped by another lustful twinge, she began to wonder whether visiting her father-figure of a Watcher was such a good idea. Maybe she should sleep it off...

She saw him at his desk, huddled over a book. He was the only one who could help her...

"Giles," she breathed as she swung open the door.

Frowning at her piqued state, he plucked off his glasses and stood. "Buffy? What is it? What's wrong? Are you ill?" He touched the back of his hand to her forehead. Warm, but not feverish.

"No, I..." she teetered, trying to steady her breath. "I don't know. Something's happening to me...these demons, big, ugly...I got away, but--"

"But what?" He steadied her by her shoulders, then guided her over to the couch.

She sat, fidgeting, fanning herself. "I couldn't fight them." Crossed her legs, uncrossed. "And something's happening, it's..."

"It's...?"

"It's weird. It's kind of um..." Her neck was sweating...she ran her hands through her hair, lifting it up, letting air hit the back of her neck. "Embarrassing."

"It's--it's all right, Buffy, you can tell me."

He can take it...just say the words. "It's like they gave off some kind of...of aphrodisiac or something?"

"An--" he frowned again, and looked her over. "Oh. Oh, I see." He tried not to show his own embarrassment. "And you couldn't fight them...because of this...this..."

"Uh huh...." she said, gulping for air.

"Good lord," he exhaled, perplexed.

Buffy didn't know what to do with her hands. She wanted to touch herself...it seemed the only way to ease the discomfort. But then, Watcher here...probably wouldn't want to watch that... God, it was getting worse. As if that was even possible. "So what are they, and...and, how do I stop this?"

He stuttered for a moment and landed on, "What did they look like?"

"Ugly, slimy, huge. Horns everywhere. And I mean... everywhere."

He grimaced and looked up at the door. "They didn't follow you here?"

"No. They, they saw a vampire girl and went after her, so I booked." She felt tipsy, and really...strange. She was beginning to see something in Giles...something more than what she usually saw.

"A vampire girl? What in the world..."

"I don't know..." Buffy held onto Giles' tweed jacket, and dipped her head to nuzzle into his chest. "I just...it has to...there must be a way..."

"Buffy," he said, pushing her head up. "This surely isn't the way."

"What?" She looked down. "Oh. God, I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe I can, just stay here...till it wears off?" She peeled off her jacket. "So hot..."

Giles sat up.

"Isn't it hot in here? I'm dying..." She began to unbutton her shirt.

"Buffy, what are you--?"

"It's just...my clothes are so tight." She dropped her shirt. "I think this'll help..."

"If it'll help then. I'll look away."

"Giles, come on," she leveled with him playfully. "It's just underwear."

"Just, uh...just..." he stuttered as she unhooked the front clasp of her bra. He swiftly spun around and wondered what to do. He stood to scan the books on his shelf. What were these demons? What were they doing to her? How had he never heard of such a thing in all his years as a--?

"Mm..." she began to moan intermittently while she took off the last of her clothing, and threw her panties at Giles' head with a giggle.

He quickly snatched it off his head and threw it down. His peripheral vision showed him a naked Slayer slithering on his couch.

"I'm sorry, Giles," she moaned. "I just can't help it..."

"I gathered that," he said, pained. Choosing a large tome from the shelf, he sat at his desk to leaf through it.

As she watched him, he looked a lot less like a stuffy father figure than a strong, attractive man. "Giles?" she whispered.

"Yes, Buffy," he replied, eyes shut, bridge of nose pinched.

"I don't think it's gonna just wear off. I think I need...help..."

He sighed. "Help?"

"Uh-huh." She reached between her legs. "God, I'm so wet and...I just need...I need you..."

"I doubt I'm the one you really need right now," he said, polishing his glasses vigorously.

"Yes, you are. You're good, and, and, strong, and you do what you have to do, right? And, and you won't turn evil...just, please touch me."

"I'm sorry, Buffy, I simply can't do that."

"Says who?" she pouted. "We're both adults. I'm eighteen, you're...older..."

"Exactly. Per--perhaps you should," and this was difficult to sound out, "entertain yourself."

"I'm trying, and it's not working." She stood up, traipsed over to the the desk, draped herself over his back and wrapped her arms around him. Hooking her chin over his shoulder, she plucked off his glasses, flung his book aside and fluffed up his hair. "I need you."

"Buffy!" He struggled and swiveled his chair, catching a glimpse of her full naked glory.

"Giles," she whispered, coming much too close to his ear. "I need this." She sat on his lap and rubbed her breasts against his chest.

He sputtered against her, and she covered his mouth with hers. He pulled away. "This is--this is madness! For God sake, Buffy! Pull yourself together!"

Petulantly she got up and flopped backwards on the couch. "I hate you."

Quickly, he took off his jacket and draped it over her. "Will you cover yourself?"

She shrugged it off, kicked it to the floor. "Too hot."

Giles went over in his mind the best way to get Buffy into the cage. She was weakened, he could tell--but she was still probably a lot stronger than him. And a naked student in a bookcage might look a tad suspicious to the janitor. He shook his head. No, that wouldn't do. Rope...he had some rope around here. Get her into the chair...

"Buffy, I'm sorry but I must restrain you...before..." he'd opened his eyes to see her legs spread wide as she massaged her clit. He turned away, "Before you do something you'll regret."

"Giles..." she sat forward, smiling coquettishly. "I'm not gonna regret this. Stop being so stuffy..."

"I will not!"

"C'mon."

"No." He found the rope.

"Pleeeease?" she full-on whined.

"No! Look, if this is a spell, we can--we can try a counter-spell. I just need some time to find one without you shimmying about--"

"I don't have time! I need you now!"

He came at her with the rope and attempted to get it around her wrists. She fought him every step of the way.

She smiled as they struggled, her breath hot and heavy, her face flushed and close to his. "I never knew bondage was your thing, Giles."

He jumped up and yelped, "For heaven's sake, would you cut that out?"

"Cut what out?" she purred, arching her back and pinching her nipples.

"That! The... the, come-hithering." He dropped the rope. Useless.

"Actually, I'd rather come thithering," she returned saucily, pointing at his crotch.

"That's quite enough!" he shouted.

Self-consciously, she touched her hair. "Is it my hair? It's my hair, isn't it? You don't like blondes. Or is it me? You don't think I'm pretty."

"No, no..." he sat down beside her, covering her with his jacket. "It's not that at all. I think you're...you're beautiful...a beautiful, young woman."

She smiled, and ran a fingernail up his chest. "So what's the problem?"

He stopped her hand. "Buffy, this is the absolute most wrong thing either of us could do. And when you come out of this, I know you'll agree."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" She draped her knee over his leg, scooching closer.

"Buffy, you're not yourself!" He pushed her knee away. "You're not making sense."

"I think it makes perfect sense," she said, hands dancing on his shirt buttons. "I need your help, and you can help. You're Helpful Guy..."

"I'm nearly thrice your age--"

"Angel was nearly, what? Twelce my age?"

"Yes, but--you're like a daughter to me."

She nibbled at his ear. "Can I be the naughty daughter?"

"Oh, good god, Buffy--will you please--stop that! This cannot happen, and there's no way in hell I'll--"

Unable to listen anymore, unable to contain the fire raging through her body for one more second, she jumped on him, straddling his lap, careful to immobilize his arms with her knees.

"Buffy--Buffy, god, no, stop--"

"Please, please Giles," she breathed. "I just need, I just need a second...you don't even...you don't even have to touch me, just..." her eyes rolled back as she gyrated, naked, on his lap.

Buffy's sweat-beaded breasts jiggled before his face. He turned. They slapped softly against his cheek. This was torture, plain and simple.

She loosened his tie, ripped open his shirt, ran her hands up his chest, hissing, "Ooh, Giles..."

Things were getting very confusing, going so fast... His voice became soft, raspy. "Buffy, please, you mustn't--"

"Shhh," she hushed him impatiently, rocking to and fro, rubbing herself madly against him. Letting the wetness between her thighs drip onto his slacks.

He flailed beneath her, trying desperately to push her off, despite the fact that physiologically, he couldn't help but have a reaction...

She looked down, seeing the stain she'd made. The only way to save his clothes from being stained by her come was to--

"B-Buffy, no!"

She'd unhooked his belt, unbuttoned and unzipped...she could see its outline against his briefs. He was hard. She chuckled and teased, "What's this?"

"No, I--dear god, Buffy, you're writhing on me, what do you--oh god..." a sharp intake of breath as he felt and saw her hands on his red and rigid cock.

"Shhh," she said again, "I'm just gonna..." and she angled it towards her, sunk down on it, taking him in, feeling him fill her up. Yes! This was it. This was exactly what she needed, wanted, had to have...

He bucked and struggled, appalled that this was happening at all, that she could do this to him against his will, that it felt so bloody good...

She'd begun to bounce on it, up and down, quick, frantic little jerks of her hips. Just a minute more and she'd be...she'd be okay...

He tried to speak logically. "Oh god, Buffy, please, I've got... no protection--"

"I'll stop, I'll stop," she gasped, "Just tell me when and I'll stop..."

"Oh, oh, oh bloody hell..." Going straight to hell for this...

She moved her knees, setting his hands free.

Done for, he wrapped them around her ass.

She smiled to herself, and whispered, "Tighter."

He pressed his fingertips deeper into her skin.

"Unh!" she grunted, riding him faster, deepening his thrusts. Exactly what she needed.

Giles closed his eyes, made justifications in his mind. Helping her...This is...this is helpful...

She closed her arms over his head, holding him there, between her breasts. She felt him kiss her there...yes...yes, Giles, yes... "Suck it," she urged hotly.

A pink, soft nipple brushed against his mouth. He was too far gone to care. She felt too wonderful, it had been too long... He sucked it in, sucked it hard.

That was it, feeling his cock pulsate within her, her nipple being tugged by his teeth..."Yes! Like that, like that, like that, YES!" she cried, her voice hoarse.

When he bit down and licked, she wailed in release, inner walls contracting, quaking, whole body wracked with the force of the strongest, deepest, most satisfying orgasm she'd ever experienced.

Enthralled by the vision of her, the sound, the sensation, god, so bloody exquisite...he felt his balls tighten, ready to burst. Wait, no--He sputtered, "Stop, stop, Buffy, stop!" and lifted her off, letting her rest on his legs.

Still coming down, Buffy moaned and cooed softly as she watched her Watcher jerk himself off, his cock glistening with her juices.

Three quick pumps and he was spurting come all over his hand, looking at her, then quickly looking away, the guilt setting in. His hand slowed to a stop.

Buffy felt a haze lift around her, felt her body stop shuddering and acting on its own volition. She frowned. Her eyes widened. "Oh my god."

"Buffy, I--"

"Oh my god, Giles...I--" She stood up, covering herself, backing away.

"Dear lord," he muttered, stuffing himself back in his pants. "Buffy, I'm so sorry--"

"No, no, don't--" she said, picking up her shirt and bra, dropping the bra, putting on the shirt. Her pants. One leg at a time. Trying to find her underwear. "Please. Let's just not..." She found them on the desk, draped over a book. Oh, god, I threw these panties at his *head*.

"Buffy, please--" he stood up, having given up on trying to fasten his ripped shirt buttons. "Please listen to me. This is my fault. I should have stopped you. I'm so sorry."

She'd never seen him look so upset, so guilt-ridden. She shook her head. "I don't blame you, Giles...I was...there was something making me do that, and I'm stronger than you...I'm sorry...God, I don't know why I came here."

He sighed. "Because I should have helped you."

Buffy looked down, pursed her lips and said quietly, "You did." She looked back up at him. "You were Helpful Guy."

Slowly, she walked out, stuffing her bra and panties into her pockets.

Taking a steadying breath, he watched her go, and stood there long after she'd left.

 

THE END