Buffy Beaten update

“Willow, you ever feel… shorter?” Buffy asked.

Walking alongside her down the school hallway, Willow let her shoulders slouch. “I used to hunch. Then I saw that Hunchback of Notre Dame movie. I know he made out okay in the end, but I still don’t think he should be emulated.”

Buffy’s brow furrowed, the blonde too immersed in her own weirdness to register what Willow had said once it’d become clear it was just another muttering aside. “When I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror, I swear I looked shorter. I mean, I know I’m not Claudia Schiffer, but I’m average height, right? I’m not short?”

“You’re taller than I am,” Willow said wanly, jealousy not in her voice so much as reproach.

“I wear pumps,” Buffy told her friend. 

“Then just buy higher heels. Maybe wear your hair up…”

Buffy yawned and Willow looked at her accusingly.

“Am I boring you now?” the redhead asked, her voice trailing off into worry as she finished. “I think I can be more interesting if I try…”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. My mom has a new boyfriend.”

“And he kept her out real late?” Willow asked. “You stayed up to see that she made it back okay? That’s probably a good idea. My mom says there’s a lot of creeps in the dating scene here. And she doesn’t even know about the vampires!”

“Yeah.” Buffy bit a nail, thinking more of the screaming orgasms she’d heard time and time again. “Something like that.” And her vow to find herself a boyfriend. “Hey, where’s Xander? He’s usually—“

“Around you?” Willow interrupted, a little bitterly.

Buffy stopped to look at her. “Is something up with you, Will? You’re acting like—” She paused, already feeling bad about coming down hard on someone as delicate as Willow.

The redhead mentally finished the sentence. Like you need to get laid. She did. She’d masturbated half the night away, but never come any closer to satisfying the lust inside herself. 

Even talking to Buffy, her best friend, wasn’t turning her off. Instead she was noticing how nice Buffy looked, how strong and confident she was. And when Buffy snapped at her, it made Willow think of those Viking conquerors in her mom’s romance novels. With her Slayer strength, Buffy could probably be as domineering as any guy could ever hope to be. Willow gulped.

Buffy took pity on her. “Seriously, Willow, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, Buff. Fine. I’m just in high school, y’know?”

Buffy frowned. It seemed more than that, but then she spotted Giles coming out of a classroom. There he was…

“Okay,” she said mollifyingly to Willow, then quick-stepped to Giles, Willow trailing behind her like a hungry puppy. “I see they let you out of the library, G-man. What’s up? They spraying for bugs or are you just going AWOL?”

Willow joined in. “Who knows what could be going on in the school library without him?” she mused. “They could be checking out more than five books at a time. Chewing gum. Dog-earring.”

Giles took off his glasses as he walked, rubbing his knuckle against the bridge of his nose. “All very good points I brought up with Principal Snyder, but with budget cuts, we all have to make sacrifices. And it being very hard to find substitute teachers for a school that can’t keep its year-round faculty alive, I’ve been volunteered to teach A.P. Bio.”

Buffy patted him on the back. “Look at it this way. At least you don’t get homework.”

“And,” Willow reasoned, “you’re still fighting evil. Just evils like illiteracy and… tardiness!”

“Just so.” Turning a corner in the hallway, Giles aimed himself at the library up ahead, walking a little straighter and with a new speed in his stride that had the girls pouring on speed to keep up. “Thankfully, it’s only one class a day, so I can get back to my studies tout suite, as it were.”

“It’s good that you brought up ‘as it were,’” Buffy said, “as it was last night that I dusted a vampire and it was… weird.”

“Weird?” Giles repeated, slipping his glasses back on. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know—not the usual sand castle act.”

“He sorta turned into a pink mist and floated around,” Willow said. “It was like something you’d see at a Prince concert—not that I’ve ever been to a Prince concert…”

“Group consensus was that it was just one of those things,” Buffy said. “Like webbed feet.”

“You mean like a random mutation?” Giles asked. “Possibly. But in all the annals of the Watcher’s documentation, it seems like there would be at least one other instance of this…”

Willow pouted. “Feels weird not having Xander here. He should’ve gotten to hear you say ‘annals’.”

“As gratifying as it must be for a teenage boy to hear an almost naughty word, I think less interruption in the midst of crucial, potentially life-saving research might be preferable.”

Giles strode into the library, Willow and Buffy behind him, and instantly saw the girl fast asleep on the sofa. Her yellow crewneck sweater had ridden up her ribs, freeing the smooth dusky skin of her belly, while the toned flesh of her thigh was similarly exposed by her skirt, folded up near her waist. She was innocent with sleep, her chocolate brown hair spreading in a wave across the sofa cushion pillowing her head.

Giles could hardly take his eyes off her, but he tried not to let Buffy and Willow see his appreciation. The girl was as small and lithe as either of them, but clearly older, college age at least, with her caramel skin betraying a South American heritage. Unusual in Sunnydale, but not unheard of. He wondered if she were one of the cosmopolitan set brought here by the Hellmouth or simply—what? A student’s older sister? Returning some library books before taking a catnap?

“There you go,” Buffy commented. “Snoring. It’s like Xander never left.”

“At least she’s keeping her voice down,” Willow said, fidgeting with the straps of her overalls. Seeing a beautiful woman like that wasn’t doing any favors for her arousal. She had liked looking at Buffy walking, seeing her trim bronze legs flash back and forth under her skirt, but this woman had the most succulent thighs she’d ever seen—all atop a set of white stockings that Willow could see from her shoes to her garters. Willow thought of masturbating again and felt sure that this time, she’d satisfy herself…

“I, I’m sure this is just a-a-a misunderstanding,” Giles stammered before clearing his throat. “If you’ll run along, I’ll clear everything up here and we can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

“I could use a shower,” Willow said, her breathing already heavy. She took a step backward, starting her retreat.

“What about the vamp who went all perfume store on us?” Buffy persisted.

Giles tried hard not to stare at the sleeping beauty’s exposed flesh. There were girls who wore far less on a daily basis around Sunnydale High, but those were girls. This was a woman… the way her full lips were parted in sleep… the way she arranged herself, even while unconscious… it spoke of a lady of experience, effortless beauty—the complete antithesis to the childishness he found in Buffy and her friends.

“Most likely nothing,” Giles reasoned. “If it were that important, I’m sure I’d have heard some mention of it. Run along now—since when have you ever hesitated to pause in your duties?”

“I don’t know, I just…” Buffy started, about to get into how she’d felt, looked shorter that morning, before thinking that would reduce her in Giles’s eyes to the size of a midget. “Maybe I’ll go find Xander.”

“Excellent,” Giles commented. “Just the sort of thing you should do on your own time and not when I’m around.”

They departed, the doors sweeping shut behind him, and Giles approached the sofa. “Excuse me? Miss? I hate to disturb you, but this really isn’t the best place for a rest.” She did not so much as twitch; a heavy sleeper. Giles continued in a mutter: “You’re lucky a Parthokonic demon hasn’t picked today to kill us all.”

With words ineffectual, Giles bent to shake her out of her sleep. He tried to control this sudden, unnerving lust he felt as he stooped down over her, but the smell of her body made his pulse flutter, his cock ache in his pants. She’s half your age, Rupert, he told himself. Even if she’s not at all a child, she’s certainly too young for you.

Giles gripped her by the shoulders and gave her a mild shake. Still she didn’t awaken. Now Giles couldn’t help himself. He brushed his fingers across her cheek, softly, only to wake her—and to feel her smooth skin at least once. She sighed and writhed as if his touch had some sensual quality Giles was entirely unaware of.

Bloody hell, Giles swore inwardly. His cock felt close to exploding. He didn’t know why he was so turned on by this girl, but it felt good. Like he was no longer the stifling authority figure or pedantic academic that the entire town seemed to see him as, but a man. Sexual. Virile. 

“Young miss,” he whispered, now desperate to wake her—worrying he could not control himself if she remained so alluringly vulnerable.

She smiled drowsily and rolled over, her ripe breasts moving underneath her sweater, almost brushing against Giles. He didn’t dare to move any closer, but he couldn’t bear to pull himself away either.

“Young miss,” he said again, “you have to wake up. This is no place to fall asleep in.”

“Mmmmph…” she moaned softly, like she’d just had the best sex of her life and was now purring in contentment at being so fulfilled. Giles had to force himself not to be drawn into a full-on fantasy where he was the male that’d left her so satisfied.  

He leaned in even closer, for some reason unable to raise his voice, so instead he spoke closer to her ear. “You must get up,” he said. Then, before he knew what was happening, her arms were around his neck and his head was down next to hers. 

Her warm mouth engulfed him in a hungry kiss, her tongue seeking out his own with such speed that she’d must have wanted this as much as him. Instinctively Giles put one hand on the bare skin of her midriff, feeling it to be as warm and smooth as the metal chassis of some luxury car. His cock throbbed, demanding to be released from his trousers and underwear.

But just as quickly as the moment passed between them, it ended. She released him and fell back, her face lovelier than ever with eyes open and glowing, even when they were fixing him with an astonished expression.

“Oh… you are Mr. Giles…” She rubbed her joined fingers over her mouth as though she were wiping away the kiss itself, or perhaps confirming to herself that it had really happened. “I am very so sorry! I had no idea that this was you!”

Her richly accented voice allowed no further doubt of her Latin heritage. It was faltering, slightly slow-paced, as though English were a skill she was still mastering. But still, she did far less damage to Giles’s mother tongue than a great many of the teenagers he had met here.

“That’s alright,” Giles breathed, wanting to pull himself away from the intimate closeness they’d now found themselves in, but equally alarmed she might see the erection spiking out at his groin. “No harm done.”

“I was having this dream…” she said, looking around almost hungrily before her eyes centered on him. “Oh. You must be so wondering who I am.”

“The question did occur to me,” Giles admitted, talking on autopilot while he put all his will into forcing his erection back into limpness. It was refusing to obey. He was as overpoweringly aroused now as he would’ve been twenty years ago, in the prime of his youth! 

“I am Ampata Gutierrez, your new assistant.”

“Assistant?” Giles asked. “I don’t need any assistant.”

“It is a…” Ampata looked down to note how her shirt had ridden up. She tugged it back down to her waistline. “New school policy, from the Department of Education. Your library is understaffed, so I am hired to assist you. I know my English is not yet the best, but I am much better at reading and writing it, I will assure you!”

“I believe you,” Giles said. “I just thought we were in the middle of cutbacks. Where’d the money for a new assistant come from?”

“Federales,” Ampata mused icily, and Giles had to agree—it would be like them to have money for an assistant he didn’t need rather than new equipment for the AV club or a host of other complaints he’d heard in the teacher’s lounge.

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to make the best of it.”

“Yes! Very so. Only… I didn’t mean to be so… forward.” Ampata blushed. She looked down, and for a moment Giles worried she had spotted his erection, but it was lost in the darkness between their bodies. She only smoothed her skirt down her thigh. “I was having a dream.”

“No need to apologize. I understand.”

Ampata daintily hung the other side of her skirt off her knee. “It is good that you understand. But I never said I was sorry it happened.”