![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: Warmth Is For Restoration
Fandoms:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
luceti, Tales of Legendia, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Fluff
Rating: G
Words: 1218
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the above fandoms.
Summary: Perhaps he hasn't been abandoned, after all.
Author's Notes: I wrote this up as a potential alternate scenario for the night of September 7, 2011, when Giles returned from his kidnapping by the Malnosso thinking he had been gone for months and no one had missed him one bit. Obviously, Grune couldn't completely monopolise him that evening--Giles has lots of friends who needed to convince him his mind had been messed with (and a vampire to be attacked by)--but if she could, this might be how it turned out.
Set after this thread, instead of the visit to the Memory Garden.
It takes Grune a little longer than usual to come home that night. But that's all right. Giles is very tired and he needs her arm around his waist to help him walk. Sometimes, as they talk, she needs to stop and give him a long hug.
She's worried about him. He's been saying such strange, confusing things this evening, and he seems so sad. He must have been missing all his friends very much, the same way they all had been missing him.
"Are you s-sure this is all right?" Giles whispers as they enter her home, the same way he had when he had first seen it by moonlight. "I can, I can, um, find somewhere else to stay, an empty apartment, o-or—"
She shakes her head, and he stops. "It's all right. I don't mind. It wouldn't be good to be alone after you were away."
". . . N-No, I . . . don't suppose it would be," he says after a moment, and so gently, she guides him across the main living area to her room.
When she turns on the light and moves out of the way to give him space to follow, he only makes it two steps inside before he stops and stares.
. . . That's right; he's never been in her room before. She decides to give him time to look around, and so she goes to turn down the covers on her bed.
And then she hears a sob. She turns, and Giles sobs again, and his hands are pressed against his face, bending his glasses out of shape.
Grune rarely moves quickly, preferring to experience the world at a gentle pace, but there's nothing slow about the way she crosses the room and pulls Giles into her arms. For just a moment, he's stiff against her, but then he falls into her and cries. His body shakes and shudders, but she's there to hold him up. She keeps him safe in her arms until he's only trembling, and at last he lifts his head from her neck.
"S-Sorry," he begins to apologise, avoiding her eyes, but again, she shakes her head and again he falls silent.
"It's all right. You must be very tired, and you were away for a long time," she says. Sometimes, being very tired makes people cry. It's not anything bad—it's just something that happens.
He gives her a tiny smile. "Not as long as I thought."
He steps back and she lets him go. Once again, he looks about her room, in . . . disbelief? No, that can't be right. There's nothing strange to see here.
"You have, um, a lot of pictures on your walls," he says after a moment.
"Yes, that's right." She walks over to fluff the pillow on her bed.
"A lot of . . . me. And, and us together."
She considers that. "Hmm. . . . I suppose I do."
". . . Why?"
It's an odd question, but she answers it all the same. "Well, it's because we're such good friends."
"Y-Yes. Ah." He removes his glasses and polishes them. "Silly question, I suppose."
She smiles at him, even if maybe he can't see her with his glasses off. "It's all right. Now you should come lie down so you can get some rest."
"Right . . . yes. A good idea." He turns . . . and for some reason, he tries to leave her room.
"Giles? Where are you going?"
He looks back at her to say, "Th-Thought I'd take the couch. It looks . . . quite comfortable."
"Oh, no." She crosses the room to take his hand in both of hers and gently lead him to her bed. "You should sleep in a bed so you'll be nice and rested in the morning."
"No, Grune, I" —he shakes his head— "I can't do that. I can't take your bed, especially after you've done so much, a-and. . . . "
She only watches him, puzzled, until he comes to a halt. Then, finally, he sighs, and his shoulders drop.
". . . Thank you."
She smiles warmly. "You're welcome. You should get under the covers now."
"I know. Just, um, give me a moment."
He sits on her bed and unties his shoes, then pads sock-footed across the room to set his glasses on her desk. Once he's under the covers, she sits down next to the bed, by his head.
"Where are you going to sleep, Grune?" he asks her.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll sleep on the couch."
"I still think you should have let me have it instead. I would have been fine there." He closes his eyes.
She doesn't say anything in response to that. Instead, she lifts her hand and gently brushes his hair away from his forehead. "Good night, Giles."
"Good night, Grune." There's a very long pause, and then he begins, "I. . . ."
He must have fallen asleep, because he never does finish his sentence. It's all right. He can tell her in the morning.
She watches his breathing slow and deepen, and soon she's feeling sleepy, too. After a while, she sets her head down on her arms. She'll just take a little rest, and then she'll go out to the couch. . . .
*
When Giles slowly wakes up in the morning, he has no idea where he is. It's soft here, soft and warm and not anything like the Malnosso lab where he was kept for (months) a week or so.
It's comforting, beyond the simple, true pleasure that sleeping in a real bed can be, and in his half-asleep state, it takes him a while to sort out why. When he does, his body tenses, then relaxes in a way it hasn't in far too long.
This is Grune's bed. This is where she gently but firmly brought him late last night after he was released from hell. He really should have guessed sooner, because it smells just like her. It smells of sheets dried in the wind and the sun, of clean earth and flowers and sweets baked with love.
It's almost as though he's being cradled in her arms, wrapped up in her love without end, and the idea is such a salve for his battered soul that he lies there, eyes closed, wanting to hold onto this feeling for just a little longer.
The door clicks open, and Giles is just in time to catch the blurred sight of a brown-haired girl walking in and saying, "Breakfast's in—"
The remainder of her sentence turns into a shriek, he sits up and gropes frantically for his glasses, words tangling his tongue and tumbling past one another into the air, and in the midst of everything, Grune is saying, as calmly as always (good lord, did she just spend the night at his side?), "Good morning, Norma! Good morning, Giles!"
Untold numbers of apologies and muddled explanations later, he is forgiven and even invited to breakfast. The looks he gets from Grune's housemates are strange, but Stella's blueberry pancakes are delicious. When he passes the maple syrup to Grune and receives a brilliant smile in response, the Malnosso lab is as distant as the stars.
Fandoms:
luceti, Tales of Legendia, Buffy the Vampire SlayerGenre: Fluff
Rating: G
Words: 1218
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the above fandoms.
Summary: Perhaps he hasn't been abandoned, after all.
Author's Notes: I wrote this up as a potential alternate scenario for the night of September 7, 2011, when Giles returned from his kidnapping by the Malnosso thinking he had been gone for months and no one had missed him one bit. Obviously, Grune couldn't completely monopolise him that evening--Giles has lots of friends who needed to convince him his mind had been messed with (and a vampire to be attacked by)--but if she could, this might be how it turned out.
Set after this thread, instead of the visit to the Memory Garden.
It takes Grune a little longer than usual to come home that night. But that's all right. Giles is very tired and he needs her arm around his waist to help him walk. Sometimes, as they talk, she needs to stop and give him a long hug.
She's worried about him. He's been saying such strange, confusing things this evening, and he seems so sad. He must have been missing all his friends very much, the same way they all had been missing him.
"Are you s-sure this is all right?" Giles whispers as they enter her home, the same way he had when he had first seen it by moonlight. "I can, I can, um, find somewhere else to stay, an empty apartment, o-or—"
She shakes her head, and he stops. "It's all right. I don't mind. It wouldn't be good to be alone after you were away."
". . . N-No, I . . . don't suppose it would be," he says after a moment, and so gently, she guides him across the main living area to her room.
When she turns on the light and moves out of the way to give him space to follow, he only makes it two steps inside before he stops and stares.
. . . That's right; he's never been in her room before. She decides to give him time to look around, and so she goes to turn down the covers on her bed.
And then she hears a sob. She turns, and Giles sobs again, and his hands are pressed against his face, bending his glasses out of shape.
Grune rarely moves quickly, preferring to experience the world at a gentle pace, but there's nothing slow about the way she crosses the room and pulls Giles into her arms. For just a moment, he's stiff against her, but then he falls into her and cries. His body shakes and shudders, but she's there to hold him up. She keeps him safe in her arms until he's only trembling, and at last he lifts his head from her neck.
"S-Sorry," he begins to apologise, avoiding her eyes, but again, she shakes her head and again he falls silent.
"It's all right. You must be very tired, and you were away for a long time," she says. Sometimes, being very tired makes people cry. It's not anything bad—it's just something that happens.
He gives her a tiny smile. "Not as long as I thought."
He steps back and she lets him go. Once again, he looks about her room, in . . . disbelief? No, that can't be right. There's nothing strange to see here.
"You have, um, a lot of pictures on your walls," he says after a moment.
"Yes, that's right." She walks over to fluff the pillow on her bed.
"A lot of . . . me. And, and us together."
She considers that. "Hmm. . . . I suppose I do."
". . . Why?"
It's an odd question, but she answers it all the same. "Well, it's because we're such good friends."
"Y-Yes. Ah." He removes his glasses and polishes them. "Silly question, I suppose."
She smiles at him, even if maybe he can't see her with his glasses off. "It's all right. Now you should come lie down so you can get some rest."
"Right . . . yes. A good idea." He turns . . . and for some reason, he tries to leave her room.
"Giles? Where are you going?"
He looks back at her to say, "Th-Thought I'd take the couch. It looks . . . quite comfortable."
"Oh, no." She crosses the room to take his hand in both of hers and gently lead him to her bed. "You should sleep in a bed so you'll be nice and rested in the morning."
"No, Grune, I" —he shakes his head— "I can't do that. I can't take your bed, especially after you've done so much, a-and. . . . "
She only watches him, puzzled, until he comes to a halt. Then, finally, he sighs, and his shoulders drop.
". . . Thank you."
She smiles warmly. "You're welcome. You should get under the covers now."
"I know. Just, um, give me a moment."
He sits on her bed and unties his shoes, then pads sock-footed across the room to set his glasses on her desk. Once he's under the covers, she sits down next to the bed, by his head.
"Where are you going to sleep, Grune?" he asks her.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll sleep on the couch."
"I still think you should have let me have it instead. I would have been fine there." He closes his eyes.
She doesn't say anything in response to that. Instead, she lifts her hand and gently brushes his hair away from his forehead. "Good night, Giles."
"Good night, Grune." There's a very long pause, and then he begins, "I. . . ."
He must have fallen asleep, because he never does finish his sentence. It's all right. He can tell her in the morning.
She watches his breathing slow and deepen, and soon she's feeling sleepy, too. After a while, she sets her head down on her arms. She'll just take a little rest, and then she'll go out to the couch. . . .
When Giles slowly wakes up in the morning, he has no idea where he is. It's soft here, soft and warm and not anything like the Malnosso lab where he was kept for (months) a week or so.
It's comforting, beyond the simple, true pleasure that sleeping in a real bed can be, and in his half-asleep state, it takes him a while to sort out why. When he does, his body tenses, then relaxes in a way it hasn't in far too long.
This is Grune's bed. This is where she gently but firmly brought him late last night after he was released from hell. He really should have guessed sooner, because it smells just like her. It smells of sheets dried in the wind and the sun, of clean earth and flowers and sweets baked with love.
It's almost as though he's being cradled in her arms, wrapped up in her love without end, and the idea is such a salve for his battered soul that he lies there, eyes closed, wanting to hold onto this feeling for just a little longer.
The door clicks open, and Giles is just in time to catch the blurred sight of a brown-haired girl walking in and saying, "Breakfast's in—"
The remainder of her sentence turns into a shriek, he sits up and gropes frantically for his glasses, words tangling his tongue and tumbling past one another into the air, and in the midst of everything, Grune is saying, as calmly as always (good lord, did she just spend the night at his side?), "Good morning, Norma! Good morning, Giles!"
Untold numbers of apologies and muddled explanations later, he is forgiven and even invited to breakfast. The looks he gets from Grune's housemates are strange, but Stella's blueberry pancakes are delicious. When he passes the maple syrup to Grune and receives a brilliant smile in response, the Malnosso lab is as distant as the stars.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 01:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 03:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 01:58 am (UTC)Anyway, poor Giles! *hugs him* That's a horrible thing to be led to believe, even if Grune is present to provide hugs and clarification. Although maybe she is the best candidate, since before assuring him he hasn't been gone that long she would assure him that she could never abandon him or forget about him and... provide hugs. You know I love me some h/c.
LOL poor Norma, always waking up to dudes in her BFF's bed. XD Thankfully this one is wearing clothes.
Pancakes make everything better ^^
no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 04:09 am (UTC)And yeah, it was pretty bad. The worst part is all the Malnosso really did was turn up his natural tendencies to eleven. He already thinks that way as it is. *hugs him* Luckily Grune was very well suited to dealing with the fallout to this one, in exactly the way you mentioned. ♥
XDDD I had been intending to get in a line about yet another guy turning up in G-Girl's bed and how scandalous it was she was making a habit of it, but there just wasn't room. Oh well.
Especially blueberry ones. ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 03:35 pm (UTC)So I'm very glad you like it so much, and I will enable the hell out of a follow-up/spin-off...once NaNo is over. :D;
♥!!
no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 12:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 05:34 am (UTC)