Poof

Poof (B/G NC-17 Part One)

"Oh my Lord!"

Since Giles had a tendency to say this on a regular basis, Buffy and Willow continued their conversation without pause.

"Oh my Lord!"

Twice within a minute usually meant that Giles had found something disturbing about the current demon of the week, so this actually required a pause in the conversation. Leaving the topic behind, what movie actually broke Keanu Reeves' career; Bill and Ted or My Own Private Idaho, Buffy turned to Giles and asked "find something?"

"Um... Well..."

Since Giles really hadn't stuttered in a long time, and the fact that he had turned beet red meant that something weird was going on with this demon. All Buffy really knew was that the demon in question seemed impervious to swords, stakes and blaster rifles. They'd, well she had, tried for a week to kill the demon and the only thing she'd really gotten for her troubles was one pair of ruined leather pants, dunked in the sewer, and chipped her nails.

The demon was really pissing her off.

A sewer facial was really not the same as a mud pack.

"Giles?"

All Buffy got was Giles thrusting the book in her face and stomping off to a bottle of scotch on the bar. Where he then proceeded to pour himself a drink and downed it.

"Just read it Buffy." Said Giles, as he poured yet another scotch, mumbling something to the effect of "whom did I anger this millennium?"

Giles' use of language tended to get more archaic as his level of irritation increased, so sight unseen, the demon had obviously gotten to Giles as well. Yet all of his clothing was still intact. And he hadn't even been knocked unconscious by the thing.

As Buffy read the passage in question she grew whiter and whiter, this in stark contrast to Giles, who at this point had bypassed red on the facial color chart and progressed to purple.

Willow watched with interest as Buffy swallowed hard, got up and went to Giles at the bar. Willow grabbed the book Buffy had left on the couch and began to read the passage. Buffy removed the glass from Giles' hand and took a sip of the drink.

"Blech."

Giles glanced at Buffy's face, grimaced himself, and said "Buffy, it is 20 year old scotch, blech is not something I'd use to describe drinking it." With that wonderful note of wisdom, Giles proceeded to reclaim the glass and drink it himself. "There's some juice in the fridge if you would prefer that Buffy, scotch is something you have to accustom yourself to. And I'll not have you going yuck over my 20 year old single malt. Why don't you go yuck over the orange juice. I think it has pulp."

"Giles, I went blech. Not yuck. Although," continued Buffy as she poured herself a drink of OJ, "You know I don't like all the pulpy stuff, why don't you get the non bumpy juice?
"
"Possibly because the stuff with pulp seems less processed than the smooth one? Less artificial?"

"Don't you have a strainer somewhere?"

"I think it is next to the ricer."

"You don't have a ricer."

"Well, there is that."

"Um, guys?"

Giles and Buffy broke from glaring at each other and turned to Willow, who was now a curious strain of pink.

"Giles? Is this saying what it seems to be saying? Because it can't really be saying what it is saying. Because that would be, well wrong. Wouldn't it? Because wouldn't that be kind of like force? And that is really wrong. And should Watchers and Slayers even do that with each other? Because, well, its, didn't Buffy say blech earlier? Because this, this is like really gross."

"Willow, did you even breathe during that, what? Running commentary?" Asked Buffy as she tried to separate the pulp from the juice by pouring the juice from one glass to another. Althoug be be honest, all she really managed to do was pour half the juice onto the counter. But most of that was pulpless.

And a really big puddle on the counter.

Giles stopped staring at Willow long enough to notice the big orange puddle on the counter, tossed Buffy a towel stating "Buffy, perhaps we should concentrate on eye/hand coordination at our next training session. You obviously need some help in that area."

"My eye/hand coordination is just fine. Any normal person would have a strainer on hand to remove the evil pulp from the orange juice. Or, wait! Would buy juice that didn't have strange particles floating in it that require you to chew the juice."

Giles came up behind Buffy and grabbed the glass of mostly pulp juice and tossed it down with one gulp. And a minimal amount of chewing. And just glared over his glasses at Buffy.

Buffy just tossed the towel in the ever expanding orange puddle and proceeded to glare up at Giles. "That was my glass of juicy pulp."

"Well. I really was not interested in the whole, gross, yuck, blech and eeeww parade. That, Buffy, was a preemptive strike for orange juice with pulp. My orange juice. Which I happen to like. With pulp. In the morning. Since Spike took all the joy out of my morning Weetabix, pulpy orange juice is a nice way to great the morning."

"Well my way to wake up in the morning is with Riley. You remember him. About yea tall, ex- Commando? Young? Really big arms?"

"Ah yes, and how could I forget? Wait. It must be my early onset Alzheimer disease clocking in. How could I forget Riley?"

"Giles..."

"Buffy, I remember everything you choose to tell me. And I have always treated you with a degree of respect."

"Oh please. You seem to think I'm some sort of automatronic slayer chick who only exists to slay. I might as well be a robot for all you seem to want to deal with my feelings."

"Buffy, I've always taken your feelings into account. I've always put your wishes, your wants, your needs, your desires and your bloody boyfriends before anything in my life. Quite the contrary in fact. To you, I'm some Watcher, whose only purpose in life is to spout endless fountains of knowledge about the current demon or vampire, only to have you ignore me as it suits you, the rest of the time I'm a convenience to you. You treat your bloody stuffed pig or pet vampire better than me."

"I'm not the one who shoved that book down my throat. Who showed up at my school. Who dragged my butt out to a graveyard so I could experience my destiny. Destiny shemstany. I could have been Homecoming Queen. Instead I got to be the starring act in SlayerFest. And I want Riley! I don't want this. He's young. He's cute. He's built. He's..."

"Oh let us not leave out the salient facts. He's not as you so succinctly put, in front of my lover I might add, he's not, old and
gross and eeeww. He's also not likely to turn into a murdering psychopath who kills your lover and tortures people for hours. Who you then hide from everyone who was hurt by his actions. Because, you don't respect either myself or the fact that I have given everything and everyone up just to serve you."

"Did I ask you to? Did I ever have a say in any of this? Poof! I'm a slayer! Poof! There goes the gym, my parents' marriage, and my life. Poof! Here comes the Hellmouth, there goes my future. I didn't ask for any of this."

"And I did? What was that paragon of English you used? Right. Poof! I'm a watcher. Poof! I'm a bloody librarian, in a school where nobody even reads. Poof! I get to watch you die. Poof! I get knocked unconscious. Wait repeat that one, what, a dozen or so times? Poof! My lover betrays us. Poof! She loves me. Poof! Your lover kills her and leaves her in my bed. To find, see, smell, touch, bury..."

With that Giles seemed to withdraw into that place that Buffy would see every once in awhile. The place she always wanted to run from. Giles stopped glaring at her, closed his eyes and began to recite growing whiter and whiter as he continued. Speaking in almost a whisper, but harsh and it grated upon her nerves.

"Poof. I get to see Angel. Poof. I get tortured. Poof. He... You leave. And I'm all alone. Poof. I have to test you. Poof. Here we are."

"Guys?"

"What Willow?" asked both Giles and Buffy, together turning to glare at Willow while refusing to even look at one another.

"What the book says? About the Yeoz demon? The one that's been rampaging around Sunnydale for the past week? The one we can't stop?"

"What about the demon Willow?" asked Giles, taking off his glasses and cleaning them in his ever present handkerchief.

"Is what this says right?"

"Well, it's in the bloody book isn't it?" Giles growled at her.

"Giles, this isn't Willow's fault."

"Well it isn't mine either Buffy."

"It's your book."

"It's your bloody demon."

Buffy stopped glaring at Willow to glare up at Giles. Who rather than glaring back was now pinching his nose, eyes closed, glasses held in one hand and looking rather put out.

"What the book says..."

"We know what the book says, Willow," responded Buffy, "We read the thing before you, remember?"

"Yeah, but... It says the only way to access the power of Gnarch, which is the only thing that will kill the demon, is for the Watcher and the Slayer to..." Willow paused, and took a really deep breath, because the Hellmouth just got weirder as the days went on, "well for you guys to have sex. Together. With each other."

Buffy opened her mouth to respond with her patented Slayer wit, only to find that said snappy comeback had gone by the wayside.

Giles, however was having no problem.

He looked up, taking both Buffy and Willow in with one glance and said "The world can bloody well end and go to hell before that happens."

With that, Giles the epitome of calm, walked to the door, opened it and left.

Leaving Buffy and Willow behind, along with a big orange stained tea towel and a half empty carton of pulpy orange juice.