Disclaimer: All of the characters of the Buffyverse belong to
Joss Whedon (all Hail), wb and ME Mine, they're all mine
<insert maniacal laughter>, oh, no wait they aren't. Darn
Rating: PG'ish Can you believe that I can write not NC-17? I'm as surprised as you are. Language, suggestive subject matter. Buffy/Giles <'cause it's me>
Distribution: Solo if she wants it, anyone else, please just ask.
Summary: Giles is searching the want ads for a job. This is just lighthearted fluff.
Spoilers: up through "A New Man"
Feedback: Yes, please. No flames though.
Buffy let herself into Giles apartment. She closed the door
behind her as she took in the scene. Pages of newspapers were
scattered across Giles' table. Buffy moved closer and looked down
at one of the pages. The want ads. <Cool. > She thought.
<Giles will feel better with a job> She had noticed that
lately, especially since Riley's less than tactful comment about
retirement, that Giles was feeling low. But as she looked more
closely at the pages, a frown marred her face. Beside each
description circled, comments had been written. One said,
"references?" Another said, "overqualified",
a third "only evenings." They were all like that.
<Poor Giles. No wonder he's been cranky lately. That has to be
hard on his self-esteem. And Buffy realized that she didn't help
with her teasing him about it. <Gee, Summers, you really can
be a bitch can't you? She thought in derision. Then she had a
brilliant idea, and let herself right back out of Giles' place.
The next morning Giles brought in his newspaper, and with a notable lack of enthusiasm turned to the want ads. He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that his Slayer certainly didn't need him anymore, not with Riley and that blasted Walsh woman. <Who exactly do we think we're fooling, old man? > He asked himself.
He skimmed the ads for a few minutes before he saw it, then his eyes blurred. He cleared his throat and read aloud.
"Wanted: Forty-something watcher-type, fluent in five languages, reads many others. Weapons training a must. Experience essential. Must be able to tolerate 'Scooby-Gang' and often-thoughtless 'Chosen One.' Must be willing to work long tedious hours, with no monetary compensation, and risk life on a nightly basis. A strong background in magic required. Gentle green eyes absolutely necessary. Benefits package includes; friends, love and respect. EOE. Apply in person." It didn't leave an address; but then again, it didn't really need to.
He had just about gotten himself under control, when his Slayer came through the door. "Hi Giles." She said perkily. "Whatcha' doin'?" She asked, as if she didn't already know.
Giles couldn't help himself. He stood up and moved towards her. When he was close enough, he swept her into his arms in a bone-crushing hug. She returned it a tad less vehemently, mindful of his more fragile bones. As she slid down his body, she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine.
"Are you applying for the job?" She asked with a cheeky grin.
"If you'll have me?" He asked tremulously.
"Did I mention in the ad that there's a casting couch?" She asked with a naughty twinkle in her eye, spurred by that delicious shiver.
His expression turned from shock to delight, as he swept her back into his arms and kissed her until she could barely stand on her own two feet.
"Okay, you're hired." She said breathlessly