He's kind of cute for an older guy. That's what my friends would say if they dared to say it out loud, not that they would, being all ex-friends and everything, and as if I had any friends apart from the bunch of losers I've been hanging with here in the library. God! Does that make me a loser, too?
Anyway. Giles. I don't really think of him as an older guy or even an old guy. He's just Giles. Smart, pretty decent body -- what I've seen of it, tall -- tall is always of the good, and the accent doesn't hurt. Makes him sound very European. Yeah, I know. Europe isn't in England. I've been there. To England. London, even. I should tell him that sometime, only then he'd think that we have something in common and he might want to have an actual conversation.
I can't be seen talking to him as if we're friends...
I'll bet his accent, cool as it is, is fake. Sure, he's British, but there are times when it sounds like maybe he's not as cultured as he tries to be or how he used to be. Less Stuffy Librarian, more streetwise and...okay, cool. Yes, Giles can be cool.
The day the Band Candy turned all the adults of Sunnydale into teenagers I saw Giles strutting around town as his younger self. Giles. Strutting! That's like, not him. When has Giles ever strutted? Obviously he did when he was a kid.
He must have really been something back then.
Ewwww! Did I actually think that? And is it really so ewwww?
This is giving me a headache.
Hanging up on this whole train of thought. Right now.
One more thing. He has a tight butt. Very nice.
"Cordelia?"
Omygod! He caught me looking. Take it easy, Chase. You can get out of this without major reputation ruin.
"Hi, Giles. I was just...I need... Book! I need a book. Yeah, um. A book about older men...who are ancient. A book about ancient times for History. Roman Empire type stuff."
He's giving me one of those patented Gileslooks. One where he's trying to decide if I'm really as dumb as I sound. If he hasn't got me figured out by now... I wonder if he ever bothers to think about me unless he has to?
"Are you sure that's all you need?"
Gulp Does he read minds, too?
Get yours out of the gutter, Chase! He's so not thinking what you think he's thinking.
"Yup. Book. Roman Empire. Lions. Fighting. Stuff like that."
"Up on the second level. Third row. Do you want me to show you?"
"Sure!"
What am I saying besides the fact that I've got split personalities, and both of them are talking to each other in my head?
This is me following Mister Tight Butt deep into the stacks, upstairs, second level, where no one can see us. We're alone now.
What is with me anyway? Hormones are seriously getting out of control today. Maybe it's a Hellmouthy thing? He does have a nice butt. I'm glad he's not wearing his jacket and those suspenders pull his pants up just right in the back...
"Oof! Watch it!"
"I believe you were the one not paying attention to where you were going, Cordelia."
"There you go being all Giles again."
He has very warm hands and they're on my arms.
He's looking at me strangely.
"Are you not feeling well?"
A way out of this mess!
"No, I, um, I'm not feeling quite myself today. Not sure exactly what's wrong."
"Do you have a headache or fever?"
He looks so concerned. That's sweet.
He has gorgeous green eyes. The left one is funny with that hazel patch in it. Oh! He's really looking at me in an odd way now. Cut it out! Me! I'm talking to me! Behave!
"Perhaps I can walk you to the school nurse's office?"
"No. It's nothing like that. It's more of a...female thing.
He's blushing! I've never seen him blush. He can get flustered pretty easily or, at least, he used to, but he's never blushed. Yet another thing I like about him. Cool. Extremely.
Did I just say that out loud? I heard someone say it. I'll just go somewhere and die quietly now.
"Cordelia? What..." He's clearing his throat. Trying again. Don't I wish I could start over? Too late now.
"I'm not possessed or anything like that."
Liar.
"Are you sure?"
"That's funny, Giles," I laugh.
"I wasn't joking."
"I'm fine, really." I wish he'd touch me again. He has nice hands. I like them best when they're touching me.
I so need help.
Giles is the only one who can give it to me.
We're standing close now. He's turned away to pull books from the shelf. He's tall, but so am I, especially with heels. He's reaching for a book in front of me. I accidentally turn toward him and brush his arm with my body. He pulls back but I lean in and, in the confusion, manage to brush the side of his mouth with my lips.
His are warm, like I expected anything else. Still, it's a bit of a shock for me, too. Literally. It's like electricity crackled between us. Surprisingly, he doesn't pull away this time. He just stands there with his mouth touching mine. Then he does move, but it's a small movement that hardly puts any distance between us. Interesting.
Those green eyes are very close. The left one is right near mine. We look at each other. I have no clue as to what he's thinking right now.
Then he looks at my mouth and back up at my eyes. I part my lips. His gaze drops to them. I stop breathing. Somehow we're kissing for real this time. I pride myself on being a good kisser. He's better. This man has had practice. Suddenly, I hate whoever he's been practicing on even while I wonder when he had time to practice and who it could possibly have been. Or be. I really hate her now.
Shut up, Chase! He's kissing you. Giles is kissing you.
His hands are on my back, sliding down to my hips, pulling me against him. I can feel his interest in me stir where our lower bodies meet. My arms are around his neck, fingers in his soft hair.
"Mmmm."
We come up for air.
Our eyes meet.
"Oh, god..."
He says it at the same time as I do and we spring apart.
He stares at me, aghast. There is no other word for it and it's a peculiarly Giles' kind of word. I feel the same way.
"It is a Hellmouthy thing!"
"Yes. Indeed. Um, I should go finish my paperwork. In my office. Down there. With the door open so anyone can look in...if anyone happens to come into the library."
"Good plan."
I adjust my clothing, pat down my hair.
Then I can't resist smoothing his hair in the back where I mussed it. He gives me a look that I have no trouble deciphering.
We walk downstairs together yet separate.
Efficiently, he checks out the books I chose that I don't need.
I can always bring them back later...when everyone has gone home.
I leave, swinging my hips just a little more than normal. Just for him because I know he's watching.
Definitely a Hellmouthy thing.