Rating: I have no clue, Solo would you mind?
Disclaimers: I didn't create any of the characters I'm about to make my
little puppets. (sigh) No money, so please don't sue.
Spoilers: None that I know of
Summary: Buffy and Giles discover that tatooing can be a very pleasurable
Note: This is my first attempt at fan-fic...
(Graduation day has passed and the Hellmouth is pretty quiet
of late. The only demons that escape are pretty dangerous ones.
Willow, Oz and Buffy have started college and have decided to get
an apartment off-campus together. They let Xander live there too,
but only when pays the rent.)
"So, Willow? Are you ready for class yet?" Buffy knocked on Willow's bedroom door. "You know how wiggy Professor Thompkins gets when we're late for Western Civ."
"Um, just a minute," Willow's muffled voice floated through the door.
They had been lucky enough to find a fairly cheap three-bedroom apartment pretty close to campus. Oz, Willow and Buffy all had their own rooms and since Xander was the last one to sign the lease on the "Scooby Pad" he got stuck on the fold-out couch in the living room.
"Up and at 'em, sleepygirl," she turned the knob and stepped in. She whipped the covers off the lumpy form on the bed. An intertwined Oz and Willow grinned sheepishly up at her. "Unless of course, you're already 'em. Oh, God. I'm SO SORRY, guys, Oh, God. I'm just going to slither away leaving a slime trail of my incredible embarassment. Oh- God!"
She slammed the door behind her and started bumping her forehead into the wall. Xander came shuffling down the hall.
"Don't feel bad, Buff," he said, yawning. "Same thing happened to me last week when I had the audacity to walk into the kitchen unannounced. Which reminds me, we may need to retile the counter."
"Ewww." Buffy bumped her head again.
Later, when they were walking from class to Giles' office in the Department of Antiquities, Buffy apologized to Willow again.
"Don't worry about it, Buffy, these things happen. You'll just have to keep in mind that when you knock on the door and I yell 'Just a minute' it means 'We're nekkid, please don't come in and rip the covers off.'"
Buffy groaned and flushed red as they entered Giles' office.
"Buffy are feeling alright?" Giles asked as he put down the book he was reading. "You look rather red."
"Just wallowing in the mire of my humiliation." he looked so cute in his professor duds. His tie was loosened because of the swarm, stuffy office. His hair was a little tousled. Buffy's stomach kept doing this wierd flip-flop thing.
"Of course," he nodded. He learned a long time ago to just nod and agree and he would be a lot better off.
"So, why was the Buffy signal flashed across the sky?" Buffy asked.
Giles looked to Willow for an explanation.
"Superhero reference," Willow said. "What was so urgent that we;re missing Supernatural Folklore?"
"Well, I found this interesting passage in this Gaelic majick book, but since your Gaelic is so much better than mine I figured I'd let you translate it."
Willow's eyes lit up. She loved it when her powers came to good use.
"Which part?" she asked. Giles pointed to the text aurrounding a beautiful symbol that resembled a Celtic knot. It consisted of woven bands in three loops that converged in a triangular shape.
"The triskele, worn as a tattoo by the warriors of the Genlinne tribe, represents the elements of sea, air and earth," Willow read. "The Genlinne believed the symbol protected them, particularly in battle, from all manners of evil through channeling the balance of nature. A fact that's hard to dispute, the Genlinne were nearly undefeated in matters of war."
"Pretty," Buffy remarked. "So what's the big idea, Giles? You think I should get a tatoo to ward off the evils of the hellmouth? Doesn't say much for your confidence in me."
"You know my confidence in you in unshakable," Giles said, looking deep into her eyes. "But a little extra protection could hurt."
"So, what we're skipping training tonight so you can take me to some seedy tattoo parlor and get me inked? I already have an indelible mark on me thank you very much." Buffy said, self-conciously touching the back of her neck.
"I don't know Buffy," Willow said. "It could be kind of..."
"Sexy," Giles breathed. Both girls turned their heads towards them.
"A little peak into Giles' personal life I didn't need." Buffy said. A total lie on her part. But if he really thought tattoos were sexy....
"Okay, so where am I going to get this tattoo?"
"No way," Buffy said, pulling Giles' arm.
"There's no way I'm going to get needles stuck into my body
at a place called 'Tattoo Charlie's.'"
"Buffy, I happen to know Mr. Tattoo Charlie, and he happens to be a consumate professional."
"If you say so," she said, stil not convinced.
He took her hand and pulled her through the door. Her hand felt warm and safe within his. From behind, she couldn't help but admire his .... finer qualities.
Especially since he had dressed for the occasion. Gone were the nubby tweeds and stiff collars. At her insistence, he had reluctantly pulled out his old leather jacket from his Ripper days. The old faded blue-jeans and white tee hugged him perfectly in all the right places.
As they entered, Buffy was happily surprised to see that despite a rather grungy clientele Tattoo Charlie's was a pretty clean establishment.
Several of the bikers' interest was peaked when they saw Buffy coming through the door. Giles couldn't blame them with the way she was dressed. The flared black skirt made her legs look a mile long and curved just the right way in her little high-heeled sandals. The tank-top she was wearing left just enough to the imagination. He wrapped his arm possesively around her as one of the younger men approached them.
The biker got the message. Buffy merely settled happily into the warm (albeit unneeded)protection of Giles' side. These all new feelings for her. But since they seemed to be playing at some make-believe game,she decided to let them run their course. A large, bearded man stepped from the curtained back room. He was wearing dingy faded blue jeans and a black leather vest and had a spider web tattooed across one cheek.
"Hello, hello," he said in a thick cockneyed accent. "How can I help you"
Giles relied on the vernacular he had used during his youth."Oy, I want you to put my mark on my ol' lady here," Giles said, patting Buffy's behind. He let his rest there just a little longer than necessary. "Sumpin' reyul classy."
She glared up at him.
"I thinks we can take o' that," Charlie said. "Comon, in the back wit' ya'"
They followed him to backroom where Charlie and Giles let out loud raucous laughter and slapped each other on the back heartily.
"Rupert," he laughed, the cockney gone. "It is wonderful to see you. How long has it been?"
"Ages, Charles, too long."
"Wait a minute," Buffy said. "What happened to 'Comon, in the back wit' 'ya?"
"Bloody awful isn't it?" Charles shook his head. "I have to keep up this persona for these fools to respect me. I knew I should have listened to my mother, she told me not to major in art history."
"The pattern and the, uh, special ink, we agreed on," Giles handed him a vial of glowing blue liquid.
"Excuse me, what is that?" Buffy asked. "I think I should know since it's GOING IN MY SKIN!"
"Just an herbally based ink that Willow added some special properties to." Giles shrugged.
"Hop up on the chair, miss Buffy," Charlie patted the seat and began loading the needle with ink.
Buffy had decided the best way to hide a tattoo from her mother would be putting it on her lower back, almost on her tailbone. She got on the chair so was braced against the back, facing Giles. Giles watched in agony as she pulled the waist of her skirt down and bent forward, giving him a clear view of her cleavage.
He thought he might have to wipe his chin, when Charles cleared his throat. He grinned at his old friend sheepishly. Charles shrugged as if to say, "I certainly can't blame you."
He swabbed Buffy's skin with antiseptic and said, "I'm about to start so brace yourself, love. You may feel a little sting, but eventually your body's own natural painkillers will kick in and you won't even feel it."
A little sting was right. It felt like a swarm of bees was attacking one spot on her skin. She reached out blindly for Giles' hand. He stroked her hair back and felt a little helpless as he watched the pain register on her face. He squeezed her hand, trying to reassure her.
After a few minutes, the sting lessened and lessened some more. She sighed in relief. After while, she could barely register the needle entering her skin. She bit her lip and stared at Giles. He looked so cute in that rumpled white tee shirt. She just wanted to reached and pull his face toward hers, to brush her lips across his.
"Oh my god, I'm getting... turned on." she thought.
On one level it made sense, there was a very short distance between pleasure and pain. Considering her last relationship, very little dustance at all. She took Gile' other hand, making sure Charles couldn't see, took it to her lips.
She pressed a kiss to his palm, making her way to his fingertips. Kissing each one, taking the last into her mouth. His panicked eyes locked with hers and suddenly clouded dark green. This new stimulus was bringing out some very Ripper-like feelings boiling to the surface.
He took his finger from her lips pressed it to chin, stroked the lines along the column of her thoat. Her breathing was becoming ragged. Warmth began spreading between her thighs. He traced along the lines of her collarbone until he reached the neckline of her tanktop and stopped. She stuck out her lower lip, pouting.
He grinned wickedly and pressed her hand to his lips. Sparks rocketed through her. (Oh please don't let me-) Warm waves spread through her tummy. (Oh, not here, not with someone standing in the room with us. Giles, stop kissing my hand!) She licked her lips and the waves got closer and closer together.
Just as she was brought to the brink, Charlie said, "All done, love."
"What?" she said, a lit more than out of breath.
"You're all done." he said.
"Oh, okay," she stood on her rather shaky legs and said. "Now do Giles."
"Excuse me?" Giles said.
"If I have to get the tattoo, so do you," she said. "You go into battle just as much as I do. And I don't want anything to happen to you. What's a matter? Chicken?"
"Not at all." Giles said, taking off his shirt. "Left shoulder, Charlie."
Buffy stood agape at Giles' body. Apparently her training benefitted him just as much as it did her.
"Slaying does a body good," she murmured, plopping down in Giles' chair.
"Absolutely," Giles grinned. Charlie had changed needles and started inking without a word of warning to Giles. "Ahh! Bloody hell! Charlie! What happened to 'Brace yourself, love, I'm about to begin?'"
"Oww, owwww!" Giles whined as he slid his jacket on.
"I can't bloody believe I let you
chide me into this!"
She wrapped her arm around his waist (as casually as possible) as they made their way out
towards the Citroen.
"Hey, maybe if you had kept your hands to yourself when I was getting mine, you
wouldn't be suffering so."
He winced at the memory. While Charlie had him in the chair, Buffy had taken liberty of leaning foward just enough to allow him an ample view of her cleavage. She took one his hands and squeezed it. She licked one of her fingers and ran along his collarbone, leaving a wet trail from his throat and circling his pecs. (More developed pecs than she expected.) She circled his left nipple slowly, bringing it to small, pebbly nub. He exhaled raggedly.
"Almost done lad," Charlie said.
"I hope not," Buffy winked.
Giles' jaw dropped. (I beg your pardon, his eyes asked her. Now, as they made their way to the car. Buffy wondered if what had happened in the tattoo parlor was going to end there. She sure hoped not.
"Poor baby," she cooed. "Maybe Buffy could kiss it and make you feel better."
He grinned and flushed red. He opened the car door for her and made his way to his side. The whole way home all he see were legs. Buffy's legs. Long, shapely smooth legs.
He shook his head. What had Willow put in that ink? he wondered. After a few seconds, he shook his head again. NAH, Willow couldn't possibly-
"Giles?" Buffy said. "I said you've driven us to your house."
"Uh-oh, sorry, quite, I don't know what I was thinking." he said.
"Well, it couldn't have been 'what am I going to say to Buffy next' because you haven't said a word since we left Tattoo Charlie's."
"Sorry, love," he said as he started the engine.
She tried to ignore his endearment and stopped him.
"We might as well go in for a soda or something." she said, grinning.
They made their way up the walk. On an impulse, he tugged the back of Buffy's skirt. She let out a cry and chased after him.
"Laugh now, British guy, you're going down." she growled as they reached the door. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him.
"Oh, I hope so," he purred.
She gaped at him. He pulled her inside, shut the door and promptly pushed her against it. He stared at her as if he didn't know where to start. His hands skimmed her thighs, her hips, her tiny waist, until they finally rested on her breasts. His breath was warm and moist against her lips, but he didn't kiss her. He slid her jacket from shoulders. She could almost feel his lips brushing hers, but he merely grinned wickedly and stroked her neck. Pressing himself against her, he pulled both of her legs around his waist and pinned her to the door.
"Giles, please kiss me," she groaned.
"Happy to oblige," he grinned. He claimed her mouth in one swift move. He tasted of....well, Giles. A blend of tea, cinnamon and something she couldn't quite pin down. For further exploration, she let her tongue dart into his waiting mouth. "That's it," he whispered. "Show me. Show me you want me too, that I'm not just some dirty old man."
She broke away from him.
"Why did you just say that?" she said. "Giles, I've tried to show you how much I love you in a thousand different ways. Do you know how much I want you? How often I think about doing this to you?"
She licked the juncture of his neck and shoulder and nipped a little bit, without really leaving a mark. He groaned under her attentions.
She tugged at his shirt, whipping it from his shoulders.
"I love you, you big goon," she had barely get the words out before he was kissing her
again. Claiming her mouth with his lips, his tongue.
"I love you, too, Buffy," he said finally. "But you have to be sure, do you really want to be shagging your 45-year-old former librarian, current Watcher?"
"Giles, you have me wrapped around your waist and pinned to a door, sucking on your neck. If I didn't want this that would make me an awfully dedicated tease wouldn't it?"
He smiled. "Just checking."
He pressed his hands against her rump, pushing her into him and supporting her as hemade their way to the bedroom. They collapsed on his bed. A jumble of loosening clothes
Unfettered at last, he pressed into her slowly, reverently. He knew Angel had taken her before, but that had been so long ago. And as for him, his last encounter felt like a century ago. He was afraid he would disappoint her in his excitement.
She breathed his name, assuring him, herself. He hushed her mouth with a kiss. She smiled.
"What are you doing to me?" she asked.
She winced as his hands rasped across her still-tender tattoo.
"Ahh!" she gasped.
"Sorry," he said, stopping the slow rhythm he had built.
"No," she grinned and bit her lip. "Pain can be.... okay sometimes."
Later, she collapsed happily on his chest.
"Three times?" she laughed. "Here I thought you some quiet librarian and you're Rupert Giles, book-loving sex fiend."
"Only for you, love," he kissed her damp temple.
"What was in that ink anyway?" Buffy asked.
Back at the Scooby Den, Xander checked his watched.
"Do you think it's working yet?" Oz asked.
"True feeling spells are hard to figure," Willow shrug. "The length of time it takes to bring the feelings to the surface depends on the strength of the emotion."
All three fell silent.
"They'll thank us in the morning." Oz nodded.