Cordelia watched him for a moment, then realizing that he would probably stare a little longer at Buffy, she got a cloth and let it drop on the floor over the remains of the mug, where it soaked up the tea.

"Giles?"

Buffy tried hard not to laugh, trying to stand still on the couch as Cordelia resumed her position in front of the easel, charcoal stick in her hand.

"Earth to Giles! Are you still there?"

"Keep still, Buffy."

Cordelia turned around and with a swift move under his chin closed his mouth and brought him back into their world.

"What are you doing?"

Cordelia looked at him then lifted her charcoal stick up and pointed at the paper that had first outlines of Buffy on it.

"Yes. But... why?"

"Giles, you should pick up that mug."

He took a look at the mess and got down to pick up the remains of the mug and wipe away the rest of the tea. He went to throw away the pieces and clean up, stealing a glance at Buffy once in a while. When he was done he addressed her.

"Why are you posing here for Cordelia in... that?"

He pointed at the dream of a dress she was wearing. A smile crossed Buffy's face, which prompted Cordelia to scold her.

"Don't smile."

"Sorry."

Giles sighed.

"Could someone please tell me what is going on?"

"Nothing. That acting school I want to go to would like to see an artistic product apart from reading from a piece and since I'm not much of a writer or singer..."

"Ah. Well. And why are you doing that here?"

"Buffy thought she should at least pretend to be available for work."

Was he supposed to laugh at that or should he be mad at Buffy? Unfortunately he found it very hard to come up with any coherent thought and he couldn't keep his eyes off Buffy. God, what a dress! She looked like a princess coming right out of a fairy tale. And he had the feeling that if he kept looking at her he would actually start drooling, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He fled.

Back behind the counter he felt a lot better immediately. He calmed and after half an hour of reading a deadly boring book he dared to go back into the backoffice to see how Cordelia was doing.

She had worked mainly on Buffy's face. Probably because she knew that it must be harder for Buffy to keep that look on her face than anything else. Not moving was bad, not being able to talk must be Buffy's greatest nightmare. He smiled. Then he took a closer look at Cordelia's work and found himself impressed. So much in fact that he totally forgot about the others around him until Cordelia noisily cleared her troath.

"What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry... it's... it's wonderful."

Cordelia looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"Really, it's absolutely enchanting. I don't know what to say. I am impressed. Very much."

He smiled at her and she smiled back. Neither of them noticed Buffy's frown, until Cordy turned back to her to resume her task.

"Hey, what's that on your face."

Buffy's face fell back into the mask and she tried not to think about why she was annoyed by the fact that Giles was so pleased with Cordy's drawing. His voice had been practically dreamily. The most she could get out of him if she did good work was a "Well done, Buffy" and mostly she didn't even get that.

But now he looked over Cordelia's shoulder as if under a spell. God, he was practically leaning on her.

"Stop that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're clenching your teeth, I can see it from here. Stop that."

She sighed and was once again the serious princess. After a while of watching Cordelia Giles spoke more to himself then to them.

"You're doing a marvelous job. I always had extreme difficulties with faces, but you make it look so easy."

"Hmm."

Cordelia was concentrating on Buffy's nose, so she didn't really listen, but Buffy didn't miss it.

"You paint?"

"Ehm, n-not anymore. Eh... I... I think I-I better leave you alone."

The way he rushed out of the backoffice caused Buffy to raise an eyebrow. What was that?

"Buffy!"

She resumed her pose, making a mental note to get out of him, whatever he was trying to hide.

He was sitting behind the counter reading a book when she swirled out of the backoffice. As he didn't see her she approached him making a curtsy in front of him.

"Sir Giles?"

"Buffy! Are you ready?"

"Nah. Cordy just gave me a minute."

She stretched herself and he couldn't help smiling at how strange she looked: Buffy moving and speaking in a princess' body.

"So what was that about, your difficulties with faces?"

"Really nothing. It's been a long while."

"But you have painted?"

"I think you should take the chance and move around a little until Cordelia calls you back."

He looked back into the book in front of him waiting for Buffy to go. She saw quite clearly that he hadn't started reading again, so she moved her finger under his chin and turned his face towards her.

"What art thou hiding from thy lady?"

He gulped.

"Buffy."

She turned around to Cordelia.

"Coming."

She turned back to Giles, whose face was only inches from hers.

"I expect to see them tomorrow."

Her look made clear that she meant it.

She left Giles, who wondered why the bloody hell he hadn't kept his mouth shut.

The next morning, when he entered "The Library", Buffy came out of the backoffice clad in trousers and top. He couldn't help the disappointed look on his face.

"I thought Cordelia wasn't done with the picture."

"She wasn't. But she didn't want to rent the thing for another day. It's nearly robbery what they want from you. I mean we practically could have *bought* it. She'll try to finish by memory."

"Oh."

He went behind the counter and sat down picking up the letters. Buffy stood in the middle of the display room, her hands on her hips, staring at him.

"What?"

"You know what. You promised me to show me your work."

"I promised? Buffy, you *told* me that... What are you doing?"

She had jumped over the counter and now grabbed his bag. He tried to get it out of her hand but she moved away towards the backoffice.

"Buffy, these are mine. You have not right..."

"If you really didn't want me to see them, why did you bring them in the first place? Giles. How bad can they be."

With that she got out the sheets of paper that were in the bag and put them on the table.

"Oh."

Giles stood in the door that separated backoffice and salesroom and looked at the ground.

Buffy sat down and moved the first sketch to the side to reveal a second.

"God, Giles..."

She went through the pieces of paper her eyes getting bigger and bigger.

"I guess it would be wrong to assume, that you drew them after your own imagination."

"Buffy..."

"Is that Ethan?"

"I told you, it's been a long time ago."

"I didn't think Ripper had a thing for art. But considering the subject of your pictures I'm maybe not so surprised after all."

She was still going through the pictures.

"Haven't you ever drawn someone who *wasn't* naked?"

"I *have*. But they were so horrible I just threw them away. Not that I claim that these are much better."

She turned around to him, glaring.

"Giles. They are good. And you know that. I'm just a little surprised that most of these are... well..."

"Pornographic?"

"I was looking for a polite way to put it."

"Landscapes didn't seem an interesting subject at that time."

"And I'm sure this was. I'm really surprised, Giles."

She finally got to the last one. She couldn't help, but stare at that picture. It was not necessarily better drawn than the others but it had something that seemed to capture her.

"Who is this?"

"Her name was Elena."

She looked at her. Elena.

"She looks beautiful."

"Do you think so?"

The disbelief was clear in his voice.

Buffy looked at the picture understanding what he meant. Elena was not your classic beauty. Certainly nothing you would find on a beauty magazine. Neither slim nor attractive, but for some reason, when she looked at the picture, she only saw a truly beautiful woman. And then she knew why.

"You found her beautiful, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Were you in love with her?"

"I think so."

She turned around to him and smiled.

"You had no reason to hide those from me."

He just nodded and began to put the drawings back into one stack. When he wanted to put the picture of Elena on top Buffy stopped him.

"Can I look at it a little longer?"

He watched her surprised.

"If you want to."

Then the bell rang and he went to greet the customer.

When the man was gone, Buffy stood in the door to the backoffice.

"Why ever did you stop?"

"When I finally gave into my destiny, I at first stopped everything I used to do as Ripper. No more magic, no more drinking, no more fu... women. And no more drawing."

"And later?"

"Well..." He blushed.

"You became afraid of drawing naked people?" She smiled only mildly teasing.

"It was not that. It's just..."

"What?"

"Ripper never had difficulties to find an appropriate and willing subject to draw, whereas I..."

"Oh."

After a second she said.

"You can hire models."

"I know, but I couldn't bring myself to pay someone for posing naked in front of me. Even if it's only for artistic reasons."

"I can understand that." She smiled at him sympathetically. "It's a shame nevertheless. They are great. And that picture of Elena is just... You really put your heart in that drawing, didn't you?"

He just smiled seriously.

She went back into the backoffice. He sat down behind the counter and opened the book in front of him. He didn't read though, instead thinking about those half-forgotten times and that day when he had drawn that picture that so impressed Buffy. He had known that it would be exceptional, even when he started. It was his best work and he knew it. He also knew that he would never be able to draw something like that again and that had been another reason why he hadn't bothered trying to find a suitable subject. But he just couldn't tell all of that Buffy, because she would ask, why this picture was so special and *that* he could never tell her.

She couldn't stop staring at the picture. God, how could he have stopped drawing after such a wonderful piece of art. She believed that if he just showed someone this picture they'd be more than willing to get naked in front of him. She would kill to have such a picture of her. Crafted with so much love. If she could look so beautiful.

Then it hit her. Two problems, one solution. She blushed at the idea that crossed her mind. Was she actually thinking about getting naked in front of Giles? And not only doing so voluntarily but actually asking him? She felt her courage vanish, but she looked at the picture of Elena again and went to the salesroom as long as she still felt brave.

He was reading, sipping a bit of tea.

"What if I could find a model for you?"

He looked up to her.

"I told you, I wouldn't want to pay any money."

"You wouldn't have to pay me."

*Crash*

"If you keep doing that, we won't have any mugs by the end of the week."

She got into the backoffice and got a cloth. He crouched down and picked up the pieces when Buffy joined him trying to get the tea out of the carpet.

"Buffy..."

"I know it's a big favor to ask from you. And I have never modelled, well, I have for Cordelia, but I quite sucked at that..."

"Buffy, it's not that..."

"So you will do it?"

Why did he have the distinct feeling that she had tricked him?

"Ehm."

"Please Giles. I'll try to keep still."

He smiled at her.

"All right then."

She smiled back, carrying the cloth into the toilet. When she looked in the mirror she couldn't help a grin and a triumphant "Yesss."

The next few days Buffy tried to fight the anticipation as well as the doubts. Whenever she thought that that might not have been such a good idea after all she took a look at the sketch of Elena, that they locked in a drawer in the hidden room along with his other pieces.

Then finally it was Saturday. She came out of the toilet, wearing a black robe. He was working to put up the easel, when he saw her at the door to the backoffice. He smiled at her and she smiled back shyly. When he was done, he moved his hand inviting her in. She slowly went past him until she stood in front of the couch facing him. He just watched her, waiting until she was ready.

When she let the robe slide down to the ground he held his breath for a second, then he spoke.

"Take whatever position is comfortable to you."

She hesitated then lay down on the couch. She thought for a moment than tried a fair imitation of Rose, when she posed for Jack in "Titanic". Giles smiled.

"Buffy, try to be yourself."

She moved around trying to find another pose, then she looked at him pouting a little.

"What is myself?"

"I don't know. Maybe... maybe I should just leave you alone until you get used to it. And keep in mind that you have to stay in that pose for quite a time. I'll be in the salesroom."

With that he left her sitting on the couch.

He sat down behind the counter. Well, it went well so far. The idea of having to see Buffy naked had been a source of gratefulness and fear. Fear of his reaction. He had been afraid that he wouldn't be able to hide his excitement and he was glad that he seemed to have it under control. It probably hadn't hurt that he had rid himself of much of the excitement in his bathroom, before coming here this morning. It hadn't taken much after his dream of Buffy and after imagining the moment he would finally see her in all her glory. So now he felt quite in control and if it would start to vanish, he could always excuse himself and use the toilet here.

Buffy wasn't quite sure what to do. She had thought that he would tell her how to stand, sit or lie and not just 'Take whatever position is comfortable for you'. She felt awkward, sitting naked on the couch in the backoffice of their working place. This was were they trained, researched and often had lunch. And she was supposed to find a place where she was comfortable - naked. She went once again into the hidden stacks and got out the picture of Elena. She just lay there. Buffy could do the same, she thought, but he had told her to be herself. She locked the drawer and thought about what that meant. She was the Slayer. Did he want her to pose with a stake? Or a sword? She smiled at that thought. Take a look at the new statue for the Academy Awards. Now coming with boobs. She looked down at herself as she went back into the backoffice.

When she had heard him hold his breath she had smiled inwardly. She knew that she was in great shape, but still it was nice if people - men and for some reason especially if Giles was so effected by it. Not that he hadn't turned totally professional within a second. But still. She sighed.

She looked around. 'Be yourself.' She sat down. On the couch. The table. Trying different poses, each time realizing that she for some reason alway tried to appear sexy. She thought of Elena. She did look sexy, but it wasn't in the pose, it was somewhere inside the picture. Buffy jumped off the table and started pacing. After awhile she switched on the CD-player and started a little workout to think of something else. Also she felt herself easing up to her nudity.

Twenty minutes later the music stopped. Giles looked at the door expecting her to call him. But the door opened and her sweating form walked out.

*Crash*

"Buffy, everyone can see you!"

"We should buy plastic mugs", was her only comment as she walked into the toilet. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She sprinkled water all over her body. God, that felt good. She wasn't uncomfortable any longer and as for the pose: She would just ask him. He was the artist after all.

When she got out of the toilet, she was greeted by Giles holding up the robe. She slid into it.

"It's not like anyone walks by at this time of the day on a Saturday."

"Well, one would be enough and in no time we'd have people breaking into the store."

She smiled.

"Did you find a pose?"

"No, but I'm not afraid of this anymore."

She opened the robe exposing herself to him. He looked away immediately.

"I wonder how you will draw me if you can't even look at me."

He turned his gaze back to her face then slowly downwards. She couldn't help the goosebumps or the hardening of her nipples at his scrutiny of her body. When he brought his eyes back to her face, she looked down and then walked past him into the backoffice.

A smile played over his face, before he followed her.

She sat on the table elbows on her knees, her head in her hands, pouting. Now that would be herself, but on the other hand she probably didn't want that kind of picture of herself.

"Can't you just tell me what to do? I mean, what about Elena. How did she end up like that?"

The look on his face was serious.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"We had just made love and I simply said 'Stay like that'."

She slid slightly off the table her hands at her sides and a little behind her, looking bewildered.

Giles immediately rushed to the easel, but Buffy moved away from the table.

"I can't pose like that for hours."

She was still bewildered. It made sense. The way Elena looked. Beautiful and sexy. Her face sated and yet with a flush of desire. Buffy sat down on one end of the couch hugging her knees to herself.

God. She had wanted a picture like the one he had drawn from Elena. Had she only know... But then again. Maybe it wasn't just the sex. Maybe it was simply the fact that he had cared about her. Something he hadn't for the other people in his sketches. But he cared about his Slayer. So maybe there was a chance.

She looked up to say something, when she saw that Giles had started to draw.

"Don't move. Please."

"But..."

"This is totally you."

"But you can't even see my..."

She looked down at herself. Her breasts were pressed to her bent legs. And she knew, that from his point of view, they were covered.

"Buffy, it's not about that. It's about who you are and what you feel."

"What *do* I feel?"

"Confusion. And you wonder how I can draw you like Elena after... that."

"And? How can you?"

"I can't. But I can draw you like Buffy. That is I could if you looked at the table again."

She moved her head back to the position it had been in when she had started thinking. 'I can't.' That was to be seen...

When she opened her eyes the next morning the first thing she saw was the floor of the backoffice. What was she doing here? Oh, yeah, she had been posing for Giles. She must have fallen asleep at some point. She moved slightly and then heard Giles' voice.

"Please don't move."

She looked up at him. He watched her a little reproachful. Then he walked over to her and softly moved her head back on the couch. He took her hand and moved it closer to her head, to where it had been, when she had woken up. She was lying on her stomach, one hand above her head, the other at her side. It was so close to her breast that by moving it he nearly touched the side of her torso. Her eyes widened at that realization and when he went back to the easel she released the breath she had been holding.

"Close your eyes."

She did.

"I'll be finished soon. Then we can have breakfast."

"Thank god. I'm starving. Oh no!"

"What?"

"I can't eat if you're going to draw me."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to look full. You know, like I've just eaten."

He laughed.

"Buffy, this is not Playboy magazine. I'm drawing Buffy, the real girl, who once in a while happens to eat. That's real life. And I'll anyway draw you how I see you."

After a silent half hour he was done.

"Do you want to take look?"

"Sure."

She jumped up and stood next to him, not even aware that she was wearing nothing.

He was right. He *had* drawn her as he saw her, which was not as thin as she actually was. But she felt that she liked the slight curves he had added. She unconciously moved her hands over her hips. He smiled at that and went to get out some food.

She took a look at the first picture.

"What kind of look is that on my face?"

"That's how you look, when you're deep in thoughts."

She turned around and could basically read his thought: No wonder you don't recognize it.

She gave him a quick glare before looking at the picture again. Not bad. Not bad at all. Not that she could ever show them to anyone. She scanned the bottom. Yes, he had even signed them. Which meant they would have to lock them away and only look at them once in a while for their own pleasure. But she didn't regret that. They had so many other secrets. What did one more matter?

She ate heartily. After all she hadn't eaten very much for dinner yesterday, knowing that she would pose for him afterwards. He was ready before her and started drawing something. She went to see what it was, sitting on the table next to the easel. She leaned to one side, to take a better look but he removed the paper and threw it away. She kept up her position, waiting for him to start drawing again.

He turned around and looked at her.

"What?"

"Find a pose."

"Aw, Giles. Not that again. Can't you just tell me where to sit or lie."

"Buffy, I don't know in advance. I keep looking and then it just clicks."

"Good. Tell me when it clicked."

She sat still and looked at him defiantly.

He just grabbed her and carried her to the couch dropping her on it. She couldn't help the surprised scream.

"Giles!"

"You wanted me to find a position? Fine."

He moved her head further to the back of the couch then he moved his hands to her hip and moved her so that she lay on her side. She gulped at his touch. He moved one of her hands onto her hip, then on her stomach.

"Having difficulties at finding the right pose?" she teased him, overplaying her nervousness.

He took the hand and placed in onto her face.

"Maybe that's better."

She took the hand away and laughed.

"God, Giles, you're supposed to be the artist in this."

Suddenly he moved her torso upright, so that her back was to the back of the couch. He took her legs and placed them on the ground. He was kneeling in front of her now, and she sat on the couch staring at him, waiting what he would do next. Her arms hang to her side. He put his hands on her hips and moved them upwards, past her breasts, the sides of which he couldn't help touching along the way, then he reached her armpits and moved away from her body forcing her to spread her arms. He moved his hands further along the arms until she knew that he wanted her to place them on the back of the couch. But even after she did so he slid his hands along her arms until they reached her hands. His face was now only inches from hers. He moved his right hand to her throat. He cupped her face and slowly forced it back so that she looked up at the ceiling, her head leaning on the back of the couch. Her heart was pounding madly. Then she felt his hands on her legs. They were slowly traveling to her knees and when they reached their goal he took a firm grip and moved them apart. She involuntarily arched her back, so that her breasts stood out.

She closed her eyes and waited to feel his mouth on her skin, but then she heard that he got up. She opened her eyes and moved her head to look at him. He cupped her face again and softly placed it on the back of the couch. Then he moved his hands over her eyes to indicate she should close them. She did.

She heard him walk towards the easel. He began drawing and the thoughts raced through her mind. What had he done? And what not? Her nipples had become rock-hard, the moment he had moved his hands along her body. And when he had moved her legs apart, her instinct had been to wrap them around him and drag him towards her. Inside her. She could feel herself getting hot and wet and the fact that he was watching her made it worse. She wondered whether he could see the wetness between her legs. How could he not? How could he not know, what he had done to her? He hadn't *really* touched her. Not her breasts nor her... and yet she felt more aroused than... than when Angel had touched her in all kinds of places for quite a time. How did he do that by just looking at her? Not just looking. Watching. She could almost feel his gaze run over her body, sending shivers through her. How he took in every detail. Oh my God. She didn't know how she was going to make it, but somehow she did.

"Ready."

The moment he said it she jumped from the couch past him, not even taking a look at the picture running into the toilet. When the door was closed behind her she moved one hand to her hot center and finished in a few quick strokes what he had started. She silently moaned her release, then washed her own juices from her hands and her body and once again sprankled water all over her skin.

When she felt in control again she walked out and took a look at the picture. Giles watched her with guilt.

She didn't know what to think of the sketch. It was at the same time capturing and appaling. To see her own body in that state. She noticed that her hands were clawed into the back of the couch. Had she done that? Or was that just his imagination? She couldn't remember. She could see the lust on her face. Her strained neck. Her totally exposed body. It was as if he had drawn her with one hand and fucked her with the other at the same time. And she didn't know whether he had the right to draw her like that. To see her like that. She wasn't sure if *anyone* had the right, but someone who hadn't even *really* fucked her?

"Shall I order some pizza?"

He was surprised. After what had just happened he had expected her to run away or make him explain himself. He could clearly see what she was thinking and he had known that he did the wrong thing the moment he had moved her from the lying to the sitting position. But he couldn't help it.

"Sure."

She put on the robe, before ordering their lunch and he wondered whether that was because she would talk to a stranger (even if only over the phone) or to cover herself in front of him. And even though he was guilt-struck, he thought it was the first and he felt a relief at that.

She sat at the table drinking some water, not looking at him. He didn't really know what to say or do, so he just went into the salesroom and waited for the pizza to arrive, reading a book (or at least trying to).

They ate silently and he was very aware of the fact, that she avoided to look at him. When she was done she went into the hidden room and got his other works. She spread them on the table.

"Did none of these people mind? I mean, that you drew them while they were... I'm not really surprised with Ethan, but... just look at this girl. She looks so... innocent."

"Buffy, it were... different times. Most of these people didn't give a damn about anything."

"Look at this boy. He looks so young. What was his name?"

"I don't know."

She frowned but, as she had all the time, kept her eyes on the pictures.

"Ethan brought him. I'm not even sure, if *he* knew his name."

"God..."

"Buffy, that's how we were. And it wasn't only Ethan. I was the same. I didn't care about her name if she had a pretty face. And if I was drunk enough I didn't even care about that. I know that's hard for you to understand, but sex can mean very little, if nothing at all."

She looked up at him.

"Is that why you had sex with my mom?"

He was a little confused.

"I... it's that what didn't keep me from doing it."

She nodded. She wasn't really sure, why she had asked in the first place. It had just struck her and somehow she felt that she could see that event, that she had tried to ignore the past months, in a different light. It wasn't important.

Just like all these people hadn't been important. Except Elena. And she herself.

She got up from the chair and walked to the drawing of herself. There was a fire in that picture. It wasn't love, but the picture seemed to be alive. She felt as though she could lift her hand and reach into the person. And not only her body. *My body* she corrected herself mentally. Also her soul. The nakedness went beyond the skin.

She couldn't look at in any longer. It was too intense. Too intimate. This hadn't been what she wanted. And though it bore a certain fascination, she knew that she wanted to be drawn like Elena. She had gone so far already. How could she stop now?

She let the robe slide to the ground and looked at Giles, her gaze serious.

"Where next?"

She stood in front of him, her arms slightly away from the body, palms up. An invitation to show her where to go and what to do. To lead her. He stood up and hands on her hips moved her backward until she was leaning to the door to the salesroom.

They looked at each other and his hands were still on her hips. It took all his willpower to not slide them upwards to her breasts to feel her, touch her. He wished he had an excuse for touching her and as if she could read his mind she moved her hair from the back to the front so that it partly covered her breasts.

"Or do you want it in the back?"

He looked at her, then at her breasts. He took his hands away from her hips and lifted them up, ready to brush her hair away from her chest, but couldn't do it.

He turned around and sat on the chair, his back towards her.

"I'm sorry."

She walked to him and kneeled down next to him. She turned his face around, so that he looked at her.

"I want you to draw me like Elena. And I want you to do anything you *have* to in order to do that."

After a second she added.

"Nothing more and nothing less."

He just looked at her not moving at all. She took his left hand and moved it onto her right breast. He closed his eyes. Then she leaned forward and kissed his neck.

That was all it took.

He picked her up and carried her to the couch. His hands roaming over her chest. His mouth tasting the skin of her neck. While he kissed her breasts he moved his hands along her body down to her hips. Then he cupped her face with one hand and kissed her whole face (except her mouth), while the other hand moved between her legs. He slid that hand further up towards her center and her whole body shivered, trying to prepare for his touch. But it didn't come.

He stopped kissing her and looked at her face searching something. Then he moved away and began drawing. Her heart was once again pounding like mad.

He knew that it wouldn't be it. Not what she wanted, but he could do nothing about it. He couldn't just take her. Not if she didn't want to. If she didn't want *him*.

He was done quite quickly, not bothering about details, knowing that she wouldn't be satisfied with it.

He sat on a chair in front of the easel. She was behind him, looking at the sketch.

It took her only a second to know that it wasn't it. And he knew it, too. She placed her hands on his shoulders. Then she moved them to the row of buttons on his shirt and started undoing it. She pulled it out of his trousers once she was done and moved her hands over his chest. She could hear his breathing become ragged and when she moved her hands to his trousers he held his breath. She was leaning over his shoulders so that the side of his face touched her chest. When she slid one hand into his underpants to encircle his member she could feel his gasp on her skin. After a couple of strokes he moaned and she pulled her hand away and walked around him until she stood in front of him. She gripped him by his shirt and pulled him up into a standing position. Then she removed his shirt and his trousers. He helped her with the shoes and socks.

When they were both completely naked (except for his glasses) she moved backward around the easel onto the couch. He followed her, watching her as she assumed the position he had placed her in in his third sketch of her: Sitting on the couch, her legs spread, arms on the back of the couch, head bent backwards and her breasts standing out as she arched her back.

He dropped down to his knees between her legs.

When he didn't touch her, she lifted her head and looked at him. Then she moved her hands to his face and dragged it to her chest. She exhaled, when she felt his mouth exploring her breasts, before moving further down between her legs. His tongue lashed out. She moaned. After a few moments of sucking and licking she pulled his head away to her own to kiss him passionately. She wrapped her legs around him. Their tongues were mating in an effort to take in the other's taste.

When she came up for air she moved her arms onto the back of the couch again. They looked at each other and he plunged into her. Her legs tightened around him and she tossed her head back. She tried to send him so deep into herself that she was no longer seated on the couch. She was held in the air by the arms that were resting on the back of the couch and by the iron grip her legs had on him. He moved his hands to her back and further down to cup her ass cheeks.

They started to move in slow but hard rhythm. Then as the desire became more and more overwhelming they thrust faster and moaned louder.

As she felt her orgasm ripping through her she moved her hands away from the couch and for a moment was held up by nothing but their connection. Then her hands were around his neck and they both collapsed, Giles sitting down on his heels, while Buffy slid from the couch to sit on him, his member still deep inside her. They were panting hugging each other, since their previous position hadn't allowed them that skin contact.

When they were under control, Giles cupped her face and looked at her.

"I love you."

She just kissed him gently.

He put his hands on her hips and wanted to lift her up, when she stopped him by squeezing her thighs.

"Not yet. That was for me. That was what *I* needed. Now I want to do it for *you*. Tell me what you want."

What he really wanted was that she told him that she loved him. But he couldn't ask for that. So he moved up with her, at first sitting down on the couch, then lying, with her on top of him.

"Ride me."

She did. As well as she could. Driving him. Driving them both towards another climax. When he knew he was close, he managed four words before pouring himself into her again.

"I love you, Buffy."

As he took her with him she screamed her release. His name.

Then she moved to his side, letting him slide out of her. They were both panting. She lay on her side pressed between him and the back of the couch.

When his breathing was nearly regular again he kissed her forehead and got up, only to kneel in front of the couch and look at her.

She smiled at him, but his answering smile was serious. He put one hand on her face, stroking her cheek, before moving along her chin and throat over her shoulder along one breast further down to her hips and then between her legs. She lifted the leg up and placed her lower leg on the back of the couch giving him the greatest possible acces. He slowly pushed his hand along her inner thigh, then started stroking her clitoris with his thumb.

She moaned. He inserted one finger. Two more followed in rapid succesion. He was slamming in and out of her. Her eyes were closed, her face contorted with painful pleasure. Then he stopped, his fingers as deep inside her as possible.

She opened her eyes to look at him. He moved his free hand to her face, stroking her, then inserting a finger into her mouth. She sucked on it. The fingers inside her began to move around. Trying to stretch her. Stroking her. Torturing her with feelings so intense she couldn't handle them. She bit his finger. He moved it out.

One of her hands were gripping the back of the sofa, her nails almost going through the material. She forced her other hand to his face. She tried to steady her focus on him as he kept loving her with his fingers.

"Giles..."

He started moving in and out of her again and then she spasmed around him for several seconds. Gripping the couch with one hand, his shoulder with the other. Her eyes closed. When she was spent he eased his fingers carefully out of her. One hand was still on his shoulder. The other had fallen from the back of the couch as had her leg, when he had slid out of her. Her eyes were closed again. He wiped her juices from his fingers into the skin of her hip and the side of her torso.

When she felt his hand on the cheek of her face she smiled and snuggled into it. Then the smile gave way to a serious look.

"I love you."

She opened her eyes to see his reaction. But it wasn't joy or shock, only the shadow of a smile.

He got up and began to draw. Not a word passed between them as he captured her on the piece of paper in front of him. And when he told her he was ready, she came up to him without hurry.

The picture was all she had expected it to be. She saw the love. His and hers. She looked naked and exposed, but unlike in his third sketch of her the exposure didn't leave her bare and unprotected. The love they felt for each other lay like a shield between the eye of the spectator and her innermost secrets. A shield only she herself and Giles could look through.

She turned to him and put her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss.

"I love you, Giles."

She looked into his eyes, struggling to explain, what she felt and how it happened, but then she just repeated.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Buffy."

She moved her arms around his waist leaning her head on his chest, while he had her arms around her. The both looked at the picture again.

"I want more pictures like that of me."

She looked up at him.

"I want you to draw me as often as possible."

Their lips met once again...

The next day Cordelia called to tell Buffy, she needed her to pose for her once more. She wasn't satisfied with what she did from memory.

Giles agreed to get the dress for them and when Buffy got out of the toilet, once again the princess, he whispered into her ear.

"I wish I could just pin you to the next wall and take you."

She whispered back.

"Please do."

Then she nibbed his ear and licked his neck, flashing him a grin before going into the backoffice.

When they closed for lunch Cordelia went to buy new charcoal sticks and the moment she was out of the door, Giles rushed into the backoffice to Buffy.

He took her. Twice. Once against the wall. Hard and fast, driving them over the edge in less than a minute. Then slowly and tender on their beloved couch.

The beautiful dress got stains of sweat (and not only sweat) but he wanted to love her while she was wearing it.

After lunch she posed again for Cordelia until Buffy jumped off the couch.

"That's it. We have to hurry, if we want to get it back in time."

"Ehm. N-no need to hurry."

The two girls looked at him standing next to the door nervously sipping some tea.

"The store closes in half an hour, Giles."

"I... I bought it."

"What?"

Her face lit up and she ran towards him to jump into his arms, but stopped short in front of him realizing that Cordy was present.

"Thank you so much."

"M-my pleasure. It's... I'm actually being selfish."

He turned to Cordelia.

"I really love that picture and would like to ask you, if I could possibly buy it. Or if you could draw one for me, too."

A strange smile played over Cordelia's face.

"I thought you were more into nudes."

They stared at her. Cordelia went to the desk at the wall.

"I was looking for a small piece of paper to make a note."

She opened the drawer. Inside were Giles' sketches of Buffy. The one on top showed his last work of the previous night: Buffy kneeling in front of the couch, sitting on her heels, her knees spread apart. Her look was somewhat defiant. She had teased him all the time about wanting him to finish and needing him inside her *now*. Otherwise she would have to do it to herself. She had made her point by moving one hand from her hip between her legs once in a while. He had hurried to finish the sketch and rushed to her taking her roughly. She had squealed with joy, until he had started hammering into her at which point she had only been able to moan.

Now Cordelia looked at Buffy, who was blushing and noisily gulped, and Giles, who just stared at her losing his grip on the mug.

*Crash*

The End