Re: Dear Lord (R...Giles/?)

["Angie" <buffy1979@xxxxxxxxxx>]

The suspence was killing me...... No Harm done though, Wait a second I 
guess "Harm" was done. Lol. Excuse the bad pun. It was very funny.-Ang






--- In buffywantswillow@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx, "cocoachanel67" 
<cocoachanel67@y...> wrote:
> Dear Lord
> Red
> Joss' folk.
> G/? (R-extreme comedy&well, I think it's extreme)
> Summary: After finding out that Buffy was in heaven, Giles decides 
to 
> drown the knowledge, along with his guilt, in cheap liquor and wakes 
> up in the morning with a blonde bedmate. 
>  
>  
>  
> Rupert Giles was hung over. So hung over was he that it hurt his 
head 
> to even breathe. As he lie there in his bed, he made the attempt to 
> recall the events of the previous evening. It wasn't easy. 
Everything 
> was fairly cloudy.
> He remembered Buffy's song. Life's a show, she had sung, and we all 
> play our parts. It was during that song his slayer had confessed her 
> whereabouts after her death. She had been in heaven. She had been in 
> heaven and they had pulled her out.
> His head ached even more as the ramification of the information 
> reprocessed itself in his brain. He remembered the sadness in her 
> eyes as the word heaven fell from her lips. He remembered the pain 
on 
> Willow's face as the realization of what she had done hit her. He 
> remembered Xander's _expression of pure helplessness as he watched 
> both of them. 
> It tore him apart to see them hurting. As long as he lived, he would 
> carry those three faces with him. Never had he experienced a night 
as 
> horrible. No matter what happened next, they would never be the 
same.
> As much as it hurt, he forced his eyes open. His room was dark, the 
> heavy brown curtains drawn. It was a tomb, his tomb and he wanted to 
> stay there, hidden away from the seemingly hopeless world that 
waited 
> just outside the front door. It was safe here. There were no spells 
> of resurrection, no songs of sorrow and no tears of emptiness. Just 
> darkness, quiet, a blonde in the bed&
> His eyes grew wide as they fixed on the sleeping blonde mere inches 
> from him.
> "Dear Lord," he breathed, sure what he was seeing was a figment of 
> his imagination. 
> Closing his eyes, he counted to ten then opened them again.
> "Dear Lord," he repeated, seeing she was still there.
> With a shaky hand, he reached over and lightly touched her soft 
> cheek. It had to be a dream&a horrible, horrible dream.
> "Dear Lord."
> It was no figment, no dream; the blonde sleeping in his bed was very 
> real. Staring at here, he desperately tried to piece together how 
she 
> had ended up there. 
> After the musical finale, everyone had gone their own way. He had 
> wound up at a little bar down by the theatre. It seemed only logical 
> that a large quantity of cheap bourbon would flush the word heaven 
> from his ears. He was halfway there when she sat down next to him.
> A low groan escaped from his mouth as the memories began to come. He 
> had bought her a drink. He knew it was wrong, that he should leave, 
> but he stayed. He stayed and he bought and they drank. They drank 
> until the barkeep ran them out.
> Whose idea had it been to come back to his place for a nightcap? 
> Another groan as he remembered it was his. How could he have done 
> such a stupid, irresponsible thing? There was a list of a hundred 
> plus reasons why she should not be in his bed. And yet here she was. 
> So she had been crying, he wasn't having the best night himself. He 
> had more than enough of his own to deal with. 
> It was the alcohol, no doubt about it. He was more than a little 
> upset and factor that with lots of booze and there was a dangerous 
> combination. Still, even that didn't make it right. A drunken stupor 
> certainly didn't excuse what he&they, had&
> "Dear Lord."
> Putting a hand to his head, he rolled his eyes, moaning softly at 
the 
> pain it caused. This was without a doubt, the worst thing he had 
ever 
> done. And that, was more than saying a lot. Toying with dark magic, 
> rebelling against the system, all failed in comparison with lying in 
> bed next to naked young&Wait a second! Yes, she was in his bed but 
> perhaps nothing had actually happened. Perhaps under the black 
sheets 
> she was perfectly clothed. There was quite the chance that they had 
> merely passed out; after all, they were rather sloshed. With that 
> sprig of hope, Giles reached out and eased the sheet back.
> "Dear Lord," he gasped, sitting up as wide eyes fell upon pale skin. 
> She was naked, save for several sets of teeth marks resting across 
> her neckline that the Englishman painfully remembered as his. He 
> stayed still for a moment, caught in that small space of shock and 
> morbid curiosity. Then, unable to resist, he pulled the material 
back 
> a bit further to reveal two small yet perky breasts. They, too, were 
> graced with the mark of Giles and he couldn't help, despite the 
> situation, to admire them for a moment. 
> That moment, however, quickly gave way to a yet another panic and he 
> covered her back up. Sliding out of the bed, he hurried to the 
> bathroom to inspect his own damage. Looking in the mirror, he saw 
> that she had done a little tasting of her own. Both his neck and 
> chest were covered, as were his inner thighs.
> "Dear Lord," he grumbled, running his hands through his tousled, 
> graying hair.
> The sight of himself too much to take, he returned to the bedroom, 
> stopping at the bedside to examine the evidence of his drunken 
tryst. 
> Clothes were everywhere, a very feminine blouse ripped in two pieces 
> on the floor, his sweater hanging from the bookcase in the corner, a 
> lacey pink bra dangling from the ceiling fan. On the headboard, hung 
> a pair of leather restraints and at the foot of the bed, a riding 
> crop. The bedside table was even more incriminating, with a wooden 
> paddle, anal plug and metal nipple clamps resting neatly next to the 
> Tums. The other table, the one on her side, held a large tube of 
body 
> glitter, several pots of lip gloss and a bottle of nail polish. A 
> swell of dread building up inside, he glanced down at his feet. His 
> toenails were bright fuchsia. 
> His mouth opened to `Dear Lord' but nothing came out. Instead, he 
> felt his knees buckle and quickly sat down. He reached up to remove 
> his glasses and realized that he wasn't wearing them. What was he 
> going to do? How could he fix this? There had to be a way. There had 
> to be a way to make the whole thing disappear&to erase it from life 
> itself. 
> No one could know. The thoughts of anyone finding out made him ill. 
> If Willow, or Spike or, Dear Lord, Xander ever found out&..He 
> shuddered at the mere thought. No, no it just couldn't happen. They 
> would work something out, make a deal. Secrecy was key, for both 
> their sakes. A shock such as this would surely upset the balance of 
> the, Scooby gang, therefore endangering the very world! No, he may 
> not be able to erase it, but it would remain their secret.
> A low murmur from behind got his attention and he swallowed hard. A 
> few seconds later, nails trailed gently down his shoulder then 
pulled 
> him back into the bed. 
> "Rupy," she purred, straddling him, a lusty smile on her face. "I 
> still have that overdue fine to be punished for."
> Giles stared up into the baby blue eyes of Harmony Kendall.
> "Dear Lord."






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                     'Choices'

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