Summary: Giles and Buffy go out to dinner, with Giles's requests fulfilled.
Warnings: Mild kink, sexual situations.
Word count: 3700
Prompt: 5. Ring
Notes: All Blackmail stories, in order. Continued from "Desires".
The knock came at Buffy's dorm door exactly on time, with the campus clock still chiming the hour. Buffy called out that it was open, and snapped her compact closed. Too late to fuss with it any more.
Giles stepped inside her door silently and closed it. He stood with his back against the door, hands in his trouser pockets, head ducked. He was smiling faintly. He looked marvelous in his dark jacket and striped tie-- Buffy had almost forgotten what he looked like dressed like that, he'd been wearing the sloppy sweaters so often. Buffy herself had gone for casually dressy, not formally dressy. A night out in LA, not New York, light on the jewelry, heavy on the natural.
"You look lovely," Giles said. He cleared his throat. His eyes were on her body, moving from her discreet cleavage down to her high heels. "Is, er, Willow, er?" Giles trailed off.
"She's out. Date, I think, not studying. She put on makeup before she left."
Giles flashed his teeth in a broad smile. "Oh, good for her."
He stepped toward her. Buffy met him halfway. She wrapped her fist around his tie, just below the knot. "Have you been obedient?"
Buffy could see from his face that he had been. He was smiling and he looked eager, proud of himself. She tugged hard on the tie and pulled him down so she could kiss him. When he tried to take control of the kiss she pushed him back playfully, but hard enough that he staggered backward. He was still smiling.
"Did you bring your toys?"
He reached into his jacket pocket and took out three item, which he laid on her desk: a thick rounded metal ring, a plug about the size of her palm, and a tiny bottle of lubricant. Then he put his hands behind his back and bent his head to her. His ears were red, as if he were embarrassed by his toys, or maybe it was just that he was excited. Buffy was feeling that way herself. She'd been waiting all week for this.
Time to peek at her own toy.
She undid his belt and unzipped his pants. Giles widened his stance slightly, but held himself still otherwise. Buffy pushed his trousers all the way down to his ankles. He was wearing stretch boxers in black. She wondered if she should tell him to go without underwear next time. She pushed the boxers down all the way to his ankles as well, then stood up. His legs were pale to the knees, then faintly tanned below, from jogging. He didn't have Riley's sculpted quads or glutes. He did have other virtues. The brains. The swordsmanship. The submission, expressed now in that head, bent to her, and in those wrists, held crossed behind his back. But he was looking up through his lashes, watching her. Waiting, still with a faint smile.
Buffy picked up the cock ring and turned it over in her hands. It was plain polished steel, surprisingly heavy. Giles had mentioned the weight as something he enjoyed. Buffy slipped it over his balls, then tucked his soft penis through, gave it a tug to settle it in place. Giles breathed out when she did that. His eyes were closed, and his face was rapt. He was hardening already, though she wasn't touching him. Buffy watched his penis thicken and rise, and felt herself open a little in response. She might stay as excited as he was all night, just from knowing he was that aroused.
"Bend over the back of my chair, please."
Giles shuffled around awkwardly with his pants around his ankles. He bent and grasped the back of her chair as instructed.
Buffy opened the bottle of lubricant and squeezed out a big blob onto her fingers. She touched him lightly with her slippery fingers. He shivered. Ethan, he'd told her, had been the first person to take him there. Buffy had a flash of jealousy, which surprised her. It had been so long ago, and she couldn't ever have been the first to own him. But she would be the one to own him most completely, she told herself. And on that thought, she pushed her middle finger inside him, all the way up to the knuckle. He breathed in and went tense, and she felt him move around her. Strange feeling, being inside somebody. Soft and warm. What did it feel like to have a penis and have it inside somebody else? She'd never know. That was okay; Buffy liked what she did have. Her Slayer's body, her breasts, her vagina. She had a butt too. Would she like having someone touch her the way she was touching Giles now? She hadn't thought about that before, but she thought about it now, as she pushed two fingers inside him and listened to him gasp. Giles really liked this. He wanted more, he'd said. Wanted to be fucked. By her? Nobody else was going to. He belonged to her now.
Buffy withdrew herself from him and picked up the plug. This was also heavier than she'd expected, though it wasn't large. Like the cock ring, then, all about the sensation of weight. She teased him with it and was gratified to hear his breathing speed up. She slid it into him until it was at its widest point. He made another one of those soft sounds of pleasure and pushed back against her a little bit. She let the plug slide all the way in and settled the base snug against his butt. His glutes flexed, and then Giles let out a long sigh.
Buffy washed her hands in the dorm sink. Giles remained in place without needing to be told. He was breathing hard, eyes closed. She laid a hand on his rump and he flinched. Braced for something to happen, then. Buffy grinned, behind him where he couldn't see it. His penis was fully erect now. She liked Giles's penis. She liked that it was uncircumcised. It was a good size, not ridiculously big, but wide enough to feel good when he was inside her, long enough that going down deep on him took skill. Buffy grinned to herself, thinking about how that had felt, how he'd moaned. How he would moan later on when she did that for him again, as a reward. But it was so tempting right now, hanging down like that, with his balls held away from his body by the steel ring. So delicate, so sensitive. So vulnerable.
Buffy took his balls in her hand and squeezed, cautiously, with all the careful control of her strength she'd ever learned, and every bit of tender cruelty she had. When Giles gasped, she stopped, and released him. There was a faint beading of sweat on his forehead, and he had flushed.
"Stand up and dress yourself."
Giles obeyed. She watched him zip himself up carefully, with his penis held upright inside his briefs. He buckled his belt, then looked up at her. His face was red, but he was otherwise composed and controlled. He adjusted his tie and gave her that shy smile again. He cleared his throat, then stuck his hand into his jacket pocket and inclined his head slightly.
"I have a present for you."
Buffy grinned at him. "You mean besides you?"
"I promised you scent. I know you usually wear florals, but, ah, I thought this might suit. I had it blended specially."
He handed her a small black velvet bag. It held a small glass bottle with a cork stopper in the neck; the bottle was full of a thick red oil. Perfume. Buffy pulled the cork stopper out and sniffed cautiously at the oil. Spicy oranges, and something dark and velvety underneath. With a bite lurking behind it. Her nostrils flared, and she inhaled again, more deeply.
"Made for me?"
"At the occult shop downtown. It has a number of interesting qualities."
He took the bottle back from her, held his index finger over the neck and upended it. He reached out and stroked his finger behind her ear and trailed it down along her neck. Buffy shivered. He wet his finger again, then capped the bottle. He moved around behind her and stroked behind her ears. He trailed his fingers down the back of her neck.
"What qualities?" she said, unsteadily.
"It repels demons," he whispered into her ear.
Giles nuzzled against her neck. "Mmm, yes. And it has one other important characteristic."
"It is an aphrodisiac for Watchers."
He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her up onto her toes and kissed her neck, passionately. She could feel his erection pressed against her back. He released her just as suddenly and begged her pardon gravely. Buffy turned and laid her hands on his chest. He bent to her again and kissed her, more gently this time. Buffy pressed herself close against him and let him kiss her. Soft kisses, tender kisses. His eyes were closed, so she closed hers and let him have his way with her.
At length he sighed and pulled away from her. "We should leave now to make our reservation. Ready?"
"Give me a sec." Buffy straightened her dress and checked her face in the mirror. The advantage of going light on the makeup tonight was that there wasn't much for Giles to mess up by kissing. She snagged her overnight bag from the end of the bed and said, "Ready."
"May I carry that for you? My car's in the public lot."
He held doors for her with that same courtesy on their way out of the dorm and walked one step behind her and to her left. That was sound tactics and not mere courtesy: they covered each other's weak sides that way. Though it was still twilight, and vampires were not going to be in motion yet. Buffy practiced scanning for them anyway, just to keep herself on her toes. Here she was, dressed for a nice night out, and she couldn't stop thinking like a Slayer. She sighed.
"What is it?"
"Nothing. Hey. Professor Walsh at 2 o'clock. With her research assistant Beaker."
Buffy thought Walsh was headed the other way, but Angleman spotted them and pointed her out to Walsh. They changed direction and headed straight toward Buffy and Giles. Giles cocked his head at her, and Buffy shrugged. She had no idea what Walsh wanted. She wondered if Walsh could tell what she was up to with Giles, dressed up like this, if Walsh would know somehow that she was cheating on Riley. She squared her shoulders; no time to worry about that now.
"Hey, Professor Walsh. What are you doing on campus on a Saturday?"
"Didn't Lieutenant Finn contact you? We have a training exercise tonight. Doctor Angleman has a test he'd like to perform on you as well."
Buffy opened her mouth to explain, then shut it again because she wasn't sure what to say. Giles's hand closed on her elbow, roughly enough to startle her, and he tugged her back a step. He let go and caught her eye for a second. There was something in his face that made Buffy wake up and go on the alert. Then he straightened and said to Walsh, "Miss Summers is otherwise occupied tonight."
"I don't believe we've met."
Giles held out a hand, and Walsh shook it for what seemed to Buffy to be the minimum polite time.
"Oh, yes, Rupert Giles. Lieutenant Finn mentioned you once. You were the librarian at the town high school."
Buffy opened her mouth to protest that Giles had been much more than that, but Giles touched her elbow again and she shut her mouth. He had a plan, she could see that much. She'd let him spool it out.
"I think you know better than that," Giles said, politely. "We needn't pretend."
Walsh laughed. "It's true. Finn has given us a full report on Buffy's colorful past."
"But Buffy, there's still time for you to join the team if you head back and change now. If you're going to join up, you need to start taking these appointments seriously."
Once again Giles answered for her. "Miss Summers has a prior engagement. We have our own training exercise tonight."
"Really." Walsh took a step back and frowned at Angleman, who shrugged slightly. "I was told that your relationship was in the past."
"It seems you were misinformed."
"Apparently so." And that was interesting. Riley hadn't told Walsh everything, not recently, anyway. Walsh sighed. "Pity. I expected tonight to be informative."
"Oh? About what?"
"We are curious what gives Buffy the reflexes she has. She does appear to have physical abilities quite similar to those of some of the hostiles we've studied."
"Yes, it is a puzzle, isn't it," Giles said.
"She's quite a handful. Strong appetite. Fast metabolism. She's been disruptive in our training exercises, not through any intention to cause problems, I suspect. No one has taught her discipline."
Buffy's hand curled into a fist around her purse strap, but she kept her mouth shut. Giles smiled at Professor Walsh, and it was the strangest, creepiest smile Buffy had ever seen on him. Walsh didn't seem to even notice, because if she had, she'd have stepped back from him. A second later, Giles's smile was back to normal, and he had his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets, in typical Giles-mode.
"Sounds as if she's not cut out for the military," he said.
"Military discipline and structure is exactly what this young woman needs, in my judgement."
"I find that, ah, the Slayer requires a more traditional sort of discipline. One more suited to her nature."
"And just what is that nature?"
"Slayers," he said, in his driest voice, "have more than a little in common with the demons they're made to slaughter. They're hot-blooded and need a strong hand."
"And you're the man to provide it."
Giles shrugged. "It's a matter of experience."
"I find that fascinating, Mr Giles. I'm facing a new set of challenges with my soldiers where your knowledge might be just what I need." Walsh glanced back at Angleman, who was looking over at the sciences building instead of at her. "You've had trouble filling your time this year, Finn tells me."
Giles's head jerked back, and his lips pressed together. Professor Walsh raised an eyebrow at him, and the hair on Buffy's neck rose again. These two people didn't like each other, she realized, not even a single little bit, and this whole conversation had been fencing with sharp steel. And Walsh had just scored a touch.
"You know, Mr Giles, if you were seeking a change of pace, I can offer you a marvelous opportunity. One I'm certain would be to your tastes. I'd enjoy having a man like you under me."
"Think about it."
"I'll consider it," was all Giles said.
"So what are you up to this evening? It looks more like you're heading to dinner than to primitive weapons training."
Walsh addressed her question to Buffy, but again Giles touched her on the elbow and Buffy let him answer.
"We're having her tea leaves read," he said.
"The Initiative doesn't waste time on superstition," Professor Walsh said.
"Neither do I. And speaking of the time-- we must be off. Have a good evening."
Giles took her elbow again and drew her away down the sidewalk. Once they'd put Walsh and Angleman a good way behind themselves, Giles let go of her. Buffy breathed out a long sigh. That had been some routine he'd pulled just now, but she was pretty sure she knew what he'd been trying to do. Let Walsh think he was bossing her around, the way the Council was supposed to work. Probably that would make Walsh decide she was weak, and underestimate her. She hoped.
"That was a mood-killer," she said.
"Outright disturbing, I'd have said."
There was something in his voice that made Buffy turn and stare sharply up into his face. He was more flustered than she'd seen him in a long time, to the point where he was polishing his glasses as they walked.
"Giles, calm down. That was just Maggie being Maggie, I thought."
"Riley says she can be a hard-ass. Focused on the problem in front of her, not so good with the social skills."
"That was not my reading. But it doesn't matter."
Riley'd said more, once, when he'd been angry about something, about one of his squad being reassigned by Walsh without consulting with him. But that was just him grousing about work, the way she'd complain about vampires. Mostly Riley seemed to like Walsh. Was she serious about that job offer? Buffy didn't like the idea, especially because it would mean she would definitely end up joining the Initiative. The idea of investigating it from the inside, of getting her own special implants and monitors, was giving her the creeps. She pondered this until they reached the public parking lot, where Giles's battered car was.
Giles dug for his keys in his pocket and opened the passenger door for her.
"I do think we learned something worthwhile," he said.
"What?" Buffy said. Giles's brows came together, and she held up a hand to keep him silent while she thought it through herself. "She's interested in what makes me the Slayer."
Buffy got in the car. Giles closed the door on her, then trotted around to climb in on the driver's side. He made no move to start the engine but instead drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
An idea occurred to Buffy. "I think she wants to make her own. Is already trying to. Riley and his special diet."
"Hmm, perhaps. You said they had a doctor look at you, when you spent the day with the team. Did they take samples?"
"They drew blood, yeah. The other night they had me on a treadmill running with a breathing thingie hooked up."
"Measuring oxygen uptake." Giles tapped two fingers against his lips. "Don't let them take samples again."
"All warfare is based on deception."
"And if they have more of my blood, they'll figure it out. Did you mean what you said about Slayers being part demon? Or was that more deception?"
Giles didn't answer her right away, and Buffy felt a flash of anger. "Giles. Answer me."
"Not entirely. I repeated something I was told once, by someone I despised."
"So what did make the Slayers?"
Giles sighed. "No one knows, though there are legends, each one contradicting the next. The divine agent is at least as prevalent as the demon blood theory. I've got a book that compiles them all in one of the boxes from the library. I'll find it for you tomorrow."
Buffy thought about this. Blood. It was always about blood. It was where vampires and the demons that walked the earth came from, Giles had said, when the blood of greater demons mixed with the blood of humans. Blood was how vampires lived and how they infected new hosts. Was her power in her blood? That was how Giles had taken it away from her, when the Council had made him poison her. Speaking of which.
"The Council has no idea where I came from, really? I don't believe that."
Giles shook his head. "If they know, they haven't told me. They keep their secrets. And I am no longer privy to even the least of them." His voice was harsh on those last words, and his face had an expression on it Buffy didn't see often. She remembered the look on his face when the Council had fired him, when Travers had threatened him. Defiant, jaw thrust out, under the black eye. She was glad he wasn't working for them any more.
"Are you seriously considering working for Professor Walsh?"
"If it would serve our goals, yes."
The thought of Giles working for Walsh made her chest tighten up. A flood of something strange came over her, the feeling she'd had when she'd seen Olivia in Giles's shirt. When she'd seen the photographs of Giles with the professional dominatrix. She hadn't called it jealousy then, but she knew it for what it was now. Maybe it was a bad thing. She'd worry about that later.
She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his shirt and shook him, less gently than she'd meant to. Giles grasped her wrist, but didn't try to pull free.
"No. You work for me now. Not for anybody else. Not Maggie, not the Council. You're mine now."
Giles closed his hand over hers and disentangled her grasp from his shirt. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Of course," he murmured against her fingers. "Never doubt me."
"Never. But that's a tactic I don't want to use. I don't want you wearing their uniforms. I need you the way you are."
"I understand," he said, and he stroked her hand.
Maybe he even did understand. He hadn't been boasting when he'd told Walsh he knew what Slayers needed. Slayers needed Watchers, or something just like them. Somebody safe, reliable, a place to return to when she needed a refuge and time to think. Advice, analysis, A friend she could trust to support her interests completely. Everybody wanted that, maybe, but for the Slayer it was urgent. Though she felt she'd just been ridiculous and clingy. Wasn't she supposed to be meeting all her own emotional needs? That's what the psych text said, what Maggie Walsh had said in a lecture.
She said, "I'm sorry. Was that another mood-killer?"
"Not in the least." There was that shy smile again, peeking out. "You told me what I most long to hear."
Buffy felt her face flush at that, though she couldn't understand why. Giles kissed her knuckles one last time, then laid her hand on his knee. He reached for the key in the ignition. Buffy slid her hand up his thigh and squeezed his leg gently. Giles turned over the engine, and they puttered into motion. Toward dinner and the rest of their evening.
Continued in "Control".