Title: There’s Something To Be Said About Age And Experience
Author: Mydeira
Pairing: Giles/Anya
Spoilers: through “Touched”
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Property of Joss and ME. Just playing.
Summary: The apocalypse is nigh and everyone is hooking up. Well, mostly everyone.
A/N: Written for szandara for the Giles Ficathon who requested an Anya pairing, Giles playing his guitar, and Anya saying something to embarrass Giles. I think I managed to work all the requests in, though the guitar one was a bit tricky. There’s a bit of a story behind this whole set up. See back when the previews for “Touched” first ran I had the crazy idea that it was Giles that Anya hooked up with and not Xander. Very wishful thinking on my part, I know. Not that I have anything against Xander, but I was sorely disappointed nonetheless. Many, many thanks to my out-of-this-world beta sadbhyl who keeps me going when the characters don’t seem to ever want the piece to end and who asks for details in all the right places. Enjoy.


Finding Giles alone on the back porch, Anya sighed in relief, “Oh good, at least someone else isn’t having sex.”

He looked up at her with a faintly amused smile. “Hello, Anya.”

“Mind if I join you?” She took a seat next to him without waiting for a reply.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Xander.”

“Doesn’t work so well when he’s sound asleep. And don’t think I haven’t tried it before,” she frowned. “Believe it or not, I think we’re past that now. The sex.”

Giles nodded but continued to stare off into the night.

“So, what about you? Why aren’t you having pre-end of the world sex?” she asked conversationally.

“Anya, I—” his usual outrage at her prying died quickly. When he spoke again his tone was softer, “With whom do you think I would be having sex?”

“What about that one lady?”

“What lady?”

“The one who you made Xander watch Spike while she was in town.”

“Olivia? No, I haven’t seen Olivia in quite some time,” he replied thoughtfully.

“And no one else? Even when you moved away?” she pressed.

“It really hasn’t been an issue.”

“But, Giles, that’s just sad,” she said. Before he could take it the wrong way, “I don’t mean sad as in you’re a pathetic freak, but just sad. You’re a good guy, you should have someone in your life.”

He looked at her curiously. “Thank you, Anya,” he said uncertainly.

“Oh, don’t give me that! You have a lot to offer a woman. You’re intelligent and witty, though a bit stuffy at times. And you really know how to kiss.”

Even in the dim light, she could see the color creep into his cheeks.

“I’m flattered, Anya, really I am. But it’s really not—”

“What’s so wrong with being a good kisser? You don’t know how many times I’ve thought back on that kiss. Not that Xander sucked in that department. But you really know how to make a kiss a lot more than a tangle of tongues and mixing of saliva. It made me wonder what else you could do,” Anya admitted, not quite able to meet his eyes. “There’s something to be said for age and experience.”

“And sometimes it’s just says old,” Giles said flatly.

“Ok, buddy, remember who you’re talking to here,” she said with a hint of frustration. “While I have the good fortune of having the body and great looks of a twenty something American female, you always seem to overlook the fact that I’ve been around for a lot longer than everyone in this town put together! So don’t you talk to me about old.”

There was a loud crash from upstairs.

They looked at each other.

“My money’s on Faith and the principal,” she informed him

“As opposed to . . .”

“Willow and Kennedy. Andrew and his camera. Um . . .” That was about it. Except maybe for Buffy and Spike, because she’d wager good money that wherever Buffy was, that Spike wouldn’t be far away.

“That boy does spend far too much time with that contraption,” Giles chuckled.

“And you don’t even bat an eyelash over the criminal Slayer shacking up with the principal?”

“I’m not all that surprised. Actually, I think Robin and Faith might have a lot in common.”

“It surprised me.”

“I didn’t think anything could surprise you.”

“I’ll admit, very few things do,” she toyed with the edge of her skirt. “Getting left at the altar surprised me because it shouldn’t have. Any vengeance demon worth her powers would see that coming. Or ex at the time. Finding out you could sing—that was a complete shock.”

“And why is that?” he shifted so he was facing her, leaning back against the stair post.

“Because you were Giles the book and research guy. You liked to wear a lot of tweed and act all British and superior. A guy like that doesn’t play guitar at open mic night and sound amazing while doing it!” She fidgeted for a moment, debating how much more to say and decided what the hell. The world was ending any way. Not like anything had stopped her from speaking her mind before. “And it was the first time I realized you were very attractive and that I would very much like to have sex with you, if the opportunity ever arose.”

When he didn’t say anything, she hurried on, “But reality hit about a minute later and I knew that I was just one of the kids to you. Xander’s annoying and very blunt girlfriend.”

“Never annoying,” he said quietly. “Trying on many occasions. But never annoying.”

Anya felt her cheeks warm at that. He just said she wasn’t annoying. What was so flattering about that?

“To tell you the truth, Anya, it was kind of a relief having you around,” his voice was low.

“The exasperated looks made that crystal clear,” she smirked.

“I suppose you could say exasperation is my default emotion. I didn’t quite know what to make of you at first. But the fact that you have always spoken your mind is extremely refreshing.”

“Well, it’d be nice to tell a girl that once in awhile, instead of getting all British and polishing your glasses. You probably have the cleanest glasses in the history of the world.”

“I probably do,” he smiled.

“I like your glasses,” she said, feeling shy all of a sudden. “They’re so Giles-y.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose with the hint of a smile.

“I’ve always admired how much you enjoy life,” Giles confessed.

“What’s not to enjoy? Besides the dying and heartbreak,” she stated simply.

“That is certainly true,” he sighed.

Figuring there was nothing to lose, Anya decided to ask something she’d been curious about for a long time, “Hey, Giles, what do you think would have happened if Willow’s spell didn’t break when it did?”

“I would have done what any sensible man in my position would have.” He paused, and then, “I would have bent you back over that table and shagged you senseless.”

Anya’s heart skipped a beat. He was probably just teasing her. Paying her back for all the times she’d made him squirm over the years with the details of her many sexual encounters with Xander. “Nice try, Giles.”

“You don’t believe that I would have?”

“No, I don’t,” she said lightly. “If the spell hadn’t stopped us, common sense would have.”

“Common sense didn’t seem to be playing all that heavy of a role that evening, if I remember correctly,” he pointed out.

“Well, you would have regretted it when things got back to normal.”

“And if they never did?”

“You mean if the spell had continued on and you and I thought we were married, et cetera?” She thought about it for a moment. “After the spectacular table sex you would have decided to stay and we would have continued running the shop and lived happily ever after. With the occasional outburst to keep things from getting stale. Because there are few things in the world as great as makeup sex.”

“Or I might have still decided I wanted to leave, but have taken you with me. Make a fresh go of things,” he suggested, looking at her intently.

“England’s one country I never spent that much time in during my vengeance days. I Always wanted to, but there was never that much call for business there. The women there seemed to prefer to handle things on their own,” she recalled.

As much as she was enjoying talking with Giles and playing what if, he would get bored soon or annoyed and that would ruin the good time they were having. So, deciding to spare them the inevitable, Anya stood to head back inside and find another means of distraction.

Strong fingers wrapped gently around her wrist.

“You’re leaving?” Was that disappointment she heard in his voice?

“I can’t stay, because sooner or later I’m going to say something that makes you go all stuffy again, and I’d like to leave before it does. This has been nice,” she told him the truth.

“Anya, stay, please,” Giles rose, still holding onto her wrist.

“Why?” she asked nervously as his free hand lifted his glasses off and set them aside on the porch railing. God, but he had gorgeous eyes. Green mostly with one stubborn spot of brown. And they were looking at her in such a way that Giles might possibly want to—

“Because I want you to,” he said before he dipped his head and kissed her lips gently.

She gasped at the caress and he took advantage of her surprise to deepen the contact. His free hand came up to cup her cheek as his tongue explored her mouth with a tenderness she had never expected. It was as different from their first kiss as night from day, languid while the first had been fevered.

When he pulled back, Anya said the only thing that came to mind. “I didn’t come out here to seduce you.”

He chuckled richly. “I know you didn’t, Anya. It seems that I am trying to seduce you.”

A pleasant shiver struck her with the thought.

“I think I would very much like to finish what we started last year,” Giles said, his voice very low.

“But there aren’t any beds!” Like that had stopped her before.

He gave her an incredulous look. Of course he knew. How many times had she forced details upon him?

“Come,” the hand at her wrist moved down so he could link his fingers with hers. Tugging gently, he led her down the stairs and out into the back yard.

“Outside? Giles, did you hit your head again?” she asked curiously as she followed him behind a low copse of bushes. The grass there was thick and fairly dry. “You do know curious little wannabe slayers could stumble upon us.”

“The problem being?”

“That I shouldn’t be the one worrying about something like that and I am,” she frowned.

“You can say no, Anya.”

“Are you crazy? There is no way I could say no to you,” she admitted, stepping close to him. Tentatively, she reached out and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “So you really want to have sex with me? In public?”

“Technically, it’s not public,” he corrected, arms wrapping slowly around to hold her close.

“See, now you’re going to start getting annoyed.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You will.”

“No, because you are going to shut up.” And she did, because Giles didn’t give her a choice.

Gone was the gentle tenderness of the initial kiss, though a hint of it still remained. There was no hesitation or uncertainty as Giles delved in and enticed her into a playful battle for control. His left hand settled at the small of her back, slipping under her thin shirt to rest warm and firm against her skin, drawing her close against his body. The layers of clothing teased her with hints of what lay underneath.

Her own hands began to explore, first threading through fine soft hair and then moving down across his back. She continued lower until she found the hem of his sweater, lifting until she encountered bare flesh at last. Muscular planes only slightly softened by age, but there was still so much strength there. And it occurred to Anya that she had never once seen the man without a shirt. Sure, she’d caught glimpses of skin with the occasional battle wound but aside from that . . . She had no idea what to expect, and that excited her. What if he had a hairy back? She really couldn’t stand hairy backs. Alright, there was Olaf, but that was before she knew any better. And back then hair was all the rage. But so far, her fingertips encountered nothing but skin.

Giles’ lips moved away from hers and along her jaw line to descend down her neck. His tongue worried along her pulse point, distracting her with sensation. Anya had never really been a neck girl, but maybe that was due to the fact she hadn’t had the right person doing such wonderful things to it. The sharp quick nibble of teeth caused her to gasp.

“Are you trying to give me a hickey?” she protested weakly.

His voice rumbled pleasurably against the sensitive skin of her neck. “I like the world to know what’s mine.”

The possession of such a statement would usually make her balk. She was her own woman, thank you very much. But there was something primitive that it called to inside her.

“Y-yours?”

“Yes.”

One word. So tiny and yet—she moaned, tilting her head back to allow Giles greater access as he proceeded over her collar bone and headed toward the open vee of her shirt. Fingers deftly worked at the buttons, exposing her an inch at a time to his searching lips. Suddenly Anya was very glad she had opted for the red satin bra instead of the boring white one she’d almost worn. She could feel the moist heat of his mouth through the material as he moved to one of her breasts, sucking the nipple into prominence through the fabric.

“Oh god,” she groaned when he bit none too lightly, the pain and pleasure radiating through her body. He liked it a little rough. Good, so did she.

Her other breast was given equal attention before he continued lower, tracing indecipherable symbols on her stomach. He was kneeling now, his right hand moving behind, grazing ever so lightly over her ass before finding the closure on her skirt. An instant later, it was cascading down her legs onto the grassy ground.

And that was how Anya came to be almost naked in the Summers’ backyard with Rupert Giles, ex-Watcher, ex-business partner, staring hungrily up at her while he remained still fully clothed. She felt very vulnerable at that moment. This wasn’t just any man she was with. He was someone she deeply respected and admired and had never thought that in a thousand years he would be looking at her like that.

“Anya?” Giles asked with concern.

Pushing her uncertainty aside, Anya grinned wickedly. “One of us is way overdressed for this. Don’t you think?”

“Yes, you are,” he returned straight faced, eyes dancing in the moonlight.

“So, that’s how you want to play it, hm?” She shrugged, reaching behind her back to snap open the clasp on her bra. Then she slid her underwear down and daintily stepped out of them. Unabashed, she dangled the garments before him. “And that is all you are going to get until I at least see you without that sweater.”

“Fair’s fair.” His arms crossed and tugged the sweater up and off, taking the shirt underneath off as well. Finally, she saw his chest, and she wasn’t disappointed. There was a light dusting of hair over pectorals and down a stomach that, while well into middle age and past the definition of youth, was far from unattractive. The skin was marred by a scattering of scars that only heightened his attractiveness. She was curious about all the stories attached to each mark. Though there was one she knew.

Dropping down to the ground to join him, she reached out and traced the puckered slash caused by the spear of a Byzantium Knight.

“You’ve lived quite a life,” she commented, moving on to explore the other marks.

“As have you,” he reached out to cup her right breast, thumb stroking lightly over the nipple.

“And not a single mark to prove it,” she said sadly. All the years that she had lived, and she remained mostly untouched by life. Not that demon healing was a bad thing, it was just that it left no proof of the things she had done and seen. It was probably for the best, considering the number of times she’d been run through with swords.

“Sometimes it’s better that way,” he murmured, drawing her to him, bringing their bare skin into contact for the first time. Chest to chest, the hairs on his provided a lovely friction with their movement as they breathed.

“Maybe it is,” she whispered before she kissed him.

This kiss was hungry and determined, as if neither of them could quite get enough. He pressed her down onto the cool grass, carefully moving over her as he did so. Anya reached up and worked his pants open, pushing them down.

“Damnit,” she mumbled into the kiss.

Giles pulled back with an inquiring look as he kicked the pants aside.

“Now I owe Dawn twenty bucks. I’ll never live it down,” she sighed dramatically.

“Over what?”

“Your choice of underwear,” she said, toying with the elastic band of his boxer-briefs.

“Not that I want to know why you were discussing my underwear preferences, especially with Dawn, but what did you guess?”

“Nothing.”

He smiled. “Sometimes.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

“Rest assured, you can keep your money.”

“But I don’t win any either,” she pointed out.

Giles just shook his head and started kissing her again. With the proper persuasion, Anya was certain she could still win the bet.

In the meantime, she contented herself with finding out what lay beneath the underwear. She pushed them down with his help and was definitely not disappointed at what she found. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Slightly longer than average, thick and full with blood coursing through it. Her fingers danced along the fevered skin of his shaft, causing his cock to jump at the contact.

“Very nice,” she admired.

The look Giles gave her was a mix of exasperation and complete need.

“I told you that I would annoy you eventually,” Anya teased, curling her fingers around him and moving along the length in an easy rhythm.

“I’m not certain that ‘annoy’ is the exact word for what I’m feeling at the moment,” he replied, managing to sound simultaneously aroused and stuffy.

“Well, you could do something about that, you know.”

And he did. His left hand, which had been resting idly against her waist, quickly found its way between her slightly parted legs. One finger thrust inside without warning.

“Jesus!” her hips bucked up in response, deepening the penetration.

But he didn’t remain there long, instead slipping out to coast slickly over her clit. A second finger joined the first, delving between the folds to work her mercilessly toward climax.

She could do nothing more than move against his touch, seeking out just a bit more pressure. Felt so good, so close. If only he’d—

In a instant, he stopped, hand moving away to leave her wanting, ready.

Anya blinked up at him, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Before she could protest, however, she felt him position himself at her opening, prodding for entry. And then he was inside, pressing, stretching, filling her. No, he had nothing to be ashamed of at all, she thought as she arched up against him.

What he did next took her by complete surprise. Fully sheathed, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled so that she was now on top. She’d had barely enough time to process the first set of sensations before the new angle of penetration flooded her with more.

Finally she began to move, with deliberate, almost tentative strokes. She rose up, wanting to see him better. Her hair cascaded around her face as she looked down to watch the shadows dancing across his changing features.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, brushing the hair away to caress her face before trailing down along her neck, over her breast and down her stomach, coming to rest against her hip, fingers digging in slightly to urge her on.

She obliged, riding him faster, hips rocking just so to increase the pressure. How long since she had done this? Had the freedom and control that being on top allowed? Xander, as open as he was to experimenting, almost always was on top. Which was fine since it was still good sex. But every now and then it was nice to switch things up.

Giles’ breath caught as his body tensed, but he held himself back. Considerate, she liked that.

Leaning forward so her lips hovered near his ear, she murmured, “It’s alright, Rupert. I want you to come for me.”

The moment the words left her lips, he came hard, shooting deep inside her.

He held her tightly as he returned to himself.

“Christ, I never imagined,” he said breaking the silence.

“Not even once?” she smiled against his chest.

“Several times, actually, but it was never this good.”

Her head shot up at that, ready with a witty retort in response to the teasing, but saw that he was serious.

“You really thought about this? About us?” she asked.

“Impossible not to,” he confessed. “But you weren’t free.”

“No, I wasn’t, but I thought about you, too,” she said wistfully.

Something seemed to dawn on him. “I came before you had a chance to . . . er,—”

“Orgasm?” she grinned, pleased that he could still blush, even now. “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time.”

“Well, this isn’t one of those times,” he said with determination.

Kissing her quickly, he rolled so that he was on top once again. Then he began to follow his earlier trail along her jaw and neck, toward her breasts.

“Giles, you don’t have to do this,” she told him, as he nipped along her stomach ever lower.

He made no reply as he moved between her legs, just smiled rakishly before dipping his head down. The next thing she felt was his tongue running flatly over her swollen clit.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out, suddenly she was very aware of the houseful of people not so far away.

His head lifted briefly, “Don’t you dare hold back on me now, Anya,” he growled. It nearly sent her over.

Down he went, tongue thrusting deep inside, pushing and twisting, seeming to search out every last taste of her, of him, of them mixed together.

“God, Giles, please more . . . harder . . .just a little—please, god, don’t . . .” she babbled, feeling the world slip quickly away, narrowing down to one sensation. To Giles and his tongue, his glorious tongue.

Everything shattered. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once as climax washed over her, a million separate sensations radiating out from one. She had never felt anything quite like it.

When she came back to herself to open her eyes, Anya opened them to find Giles looking down at her, a pleased and satisfied smile on his lips.

“Ok, wow,” was all she could manage.

“And here you told me not to worry.”

“I stand corrected,” she sighed contentedly, running her finger along the lines on his face. “I stand very corrected.”

Casually entwined, they lay watching each other as the night settled around them.

“Giles?” she asked.

“Yes, Anya?”

“You think that maybe, if the world doesn’t end, that maybe we could . . .” she trailed off.

“No maybe. I would like to very much.” He placed a gentle kiss on her temple and wrapped his arms around her.

Anya curled up against him, “There’s nothing like the end of the world for really great, earth-shattering sex.”

“Is there now? Didn’t you say the same about make up sex?” he queried, stroking her hair soothingly.

“Both. I think it’s the heightened emotion factor. Also if there’s the threat of being caught. That usually works pretty good, too. And—”

“Anya,” he interrupted.

“Sorry,” she apologized, glancing up at him sheepishly. “You started it, though.”

“I can see that things are going to be far from boring for us.”

They most certainly were. If they made it through this thing with the First. Something she was suddenly a lot more hopeful about than earlier that evening. It was amazing what sex could do for one’s outlook.

Tags: fic: buffy and angel