Today’s my posting day at the Giles/Xander OctoberFest, which soft_princess has done a fantastic job of organizing and is happening over at gilesxander!

This fic is proof that having a deadline actually motivates to me sit down and write and break through my recent writer’s block. I’m so excited to actually have written fic and to have it ready for today!

Title: On the Relative Merits of Not Being a Girl
Author: cordelianne
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,181
Feedback: I love comments. Concrit is very welcome by email.
Disclaimer: Sadly not mine, Joss own them.
Summary: Five moments between Giles and Xander set shortly after Chosen.
When the Slayer revolution comes Xander discovers that there’s some definite disadvantages to not being a girl. Forget the whole superpower gig, it’s the bathroom thing that really sucks.
A/N: Thanks to soft_princess for organizing the OctoberFest!
Thanks to the completely wonderful savoytruffle for her totally awesome beta and support. Any mistakes are mine (and you're always welcome to point out any to me!).



On the Relative Merits of Not Being a Girl
by Cordelianne

One

When the Slayer revolution comes Xander discovers that there’s some definite disadvantages to not being a girl.

Forget the whole superpower gig, it’s the bathroom thing that really sucks.

The thing where he’s outnumbered and overpowered and stuck with the one room in the Who-Would-Ever-Stay-Here Motel that doesn’t have any running water. None. Nada. Nil. And Xander’s run out of ways to repeat himself.

So he knocks on Giles’ door.

He’s fairly certain that despite Giles being very much not a girl, that he’s managed to snag himself a good room. Or at least one with a working shower.

What he isn’t expecting is Giles to open the door wearing only a towel.

Xander takes in a decidedly ungirly chest. “You do know there’s lots of impressionable girls running about, right? Sure they’re scary powerful, but I’m not sure if they could deal with this.” He waves his hand at the naked chest in question. Not sure if he can deal.

Giles sighs the very special sigh he’s always reserved for Xander, only this time it’s got years more tired packed into it. Though, to be fair, they did just avert an apocalypse. “I used this ingenious device called the ‘peep hole,’” Giles says.

“Huh?”

“That’s how I knew it was you at the door and not one of the girls,” Giles explains, like he's talking to a four-year-old.

Which really isn’t fair since he just watched the first twenty-two years of his life get swallowed up into a giant hole. He’s allowed to be a little slow.

“Did you need something?”

“What? Oh right, water.” Giles raises an eyebrow which Xander decides to interpret as ‘do continue.’ “I mean, obviously I need water to live. But right now, Andrew and I have no running water. I need your shower.”

Giles looks over Xander’s shoulder as if expecting Andrew to pop up, robe on, towel in hand. It’s not such a crazy expectation.

“Don’t worry.” He claps a hand on Giles’ shoulder, then yanks it back when he’s physically reminded of Giles’ shirtless state. “He’s hitting up Robin and Faith for their shower.”

“In that case, come in.”

He beelines towards the wonders of indoor plumbing.

“Xander.”

He turns to see Giles cleaning his glasses which is something he never thought he’d be happy to see. But he is. He almost wants to hug Giles. Key word ‘almost.’

“Are you…?” Giles asks.

Xander feels his shoulders try to introduce themselves to his ears and quickly stops that socializing attempt. He stares at the brown and yellow painting hanging over the bed. It looks like someone puked on it.

“There’s a fresh towel and shampoo and soap in there. You should have everything you need.” Giles returns his glasses to his face.

“I’ll be a new man,” Xander says, unintentionally sounding like he’s a commercial spokesman.

At the bathroom door, he turns back. Giles is pulling price tags off his brand new Wal-Mart clothes – your one-stop shop for all your ‘my home became a crater’ needs. “Thanks.”


Two

Their next motel isn’t any better. In fact Xander is sure it’s worse.

“I cannot imagine this red carpet away,” Andrew mutters.

When even Andrew can’t find the magic anymore, Xander knows they’ve hit rock bottom. Or maybe it’s all the billboards about Jesus – and of Jesus – that are dragging him down. For some reason, it’s harder to believe in heaven when you’ve seen hell – literally.

And besides who puts Jesus on the billboards? It’s just tacky. And come to think of it, creepy.

Xander suddenly realizes that he’s spaced out while Andrew’s talking. He tries looking cute – hey, it’s worked before – but Andrew just stares up at him with big eyes and a frown. “Well, which side of the bed do you want?”

“Side?” Yep, his voice just squeaked.

He now fully takes in the room, while still not looking directly at the bright red shag carpet, and it sinks in that there’s just one bed. For him and Andrew. Andrew.

“Uh…” He eyes the sole chair in the room – it’s lacking cushions of any kind. And there’s no way he’s putting his face near that carpet.

Xander starts backing toward the door as Andrew details his inner ear condition and analyzes the pros and cons of the right and left side of the bed. “Giles!” he blurts out. “He said… research! He, uh, needs to consult me about um… yeah, so Giles.”

And with that very lame excuse he backs out of the room, careful to avoid eye contact with Andrew, and finds himself knocking on Giles’ door again.

Lying in bed a few hours later, Xander realizes this is a very very bad idea. In fact, why would he think this is a good idea? It’s not like he’s Idea Guy. Besides, he used up his last good one this morning when he suggested IHOP. When faced with a busload of cranky girls, heaping piles of pancakes are always of the good.

Giles doesn’t seem to be having problems sleeping even though the bed is sagging in the middle, pulling both of them even closer than seems possible on a narrow double bed. He’s breathing heavily and grinding his teeth.

Which brings him back to this being a bad idea.

Not that Xander finds the teeth grinding that annoying, it’s just that he wants to wrap an arm around Giles like he used to with Anya. And this is why he should have just stuck it out with Andrew. He wouldn’t be having any cuddling urges with Andrew and it’s not like Andrew would have tried to cuddle, even if he’d wanted to.

He rolls to the very edge of the bed and tries his version of counting sheep: trying to remember Star Trek episodes in order.

It must have worked because he wakes up to the sun beating down on his face thanks to the sorry excuse for curtains. He feels warm and, well, cozy for lack of a better word. Xander’s so not ready to wake up and deal with the practicalities of their Muppet Movie style road trip to Cleveland.

If only it was as simple as movin’ right along.

In the spirit of movin’ Xander moves his arm and realizes there’s an arm on top of it. And now that he’s noticed that, he’s also noticing the warm breath on the back of his neck.

Okay, so Giles is spooning him.

Xander’s brain tries to move beyond the question and exclamation marks that are currently taking up all the space. He shoves enough of them out of the way to recognize that Giles is asleep and totally unaware of what he’s doing. Unfortunately, this also seems to clear the path to the “freak out” portion of his brain, and it gets straight to work.

Or it would, if it could figure out which thing to focus on – the fact that Xander doesn’t want Giles’ arm to move or the fact that Xander wants to move his own arm… around Giles.

Oh yeah, he definitely has Post-Sunnydale Stress Disorder.

Since he’s in a deadlock about what he should be freaking out about and can’t even begin to deal with how he should react, he just lies there.

Not movin’ right along seems like the best approach right now.

Not that he has ulterior motives.

Xander closes his eyes and relaxes. When he wakes up again, Giles is up and poring over a book at the table.

“Morning,” Xander yawns.

Giles nods and returns to reading.

Xander smiles. The good times and good news are sure to be just around the corner.


Three

“This is bad.” Xander shakes his head. “Bad, bad, bad.”

Why Xander thought that Cleveland – a hellmouth – would be a location of good anything is beyond him.

“But you could repair that, couldn’t you?” Giles nods to the source of the water dripping into a bucket, or perhaps he’s indicating to the mold that seems to have taken over the wallpaper.

“Uh, I guess but…” He tilts his head to look at the wall that appears to be buckling, scratch that is buckling out toward him. “That wall? I’m not so sure about.”

Giles lays a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”

“Couldn’t we just find a house for our new Slayer headquarters that isn’t ready to star in the 2003 remake of the Money Pit? I’m not sure I’m up for wacky falling through the floor high jinks. Unless you can afford to hire me a stunt double.”

“I only have limited access to the Council’s old accounts.” Giles takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “This purchase will basically clean them out.”

“So what you’re saying is, it’s this dump or nothing?”

“Think of it as a project. A chance for you to put your construction skills to good use.”

“You know me, I always love to put my skills to use.” He glances at Giles who has replaced his glasses and is looking around the place and smiling, but it’s a tired smile. “And hey! There’ll be enough work here for me that you’ll never get rid of me.”

“We’ll all pitch in,” Giles’ says. His smile looks a little less tired.

Xander likes to think it’s because of him, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s nice to see.


Four

The upside to the Slayer revolution? Lots of super strong girls who more than pull their weight.

The downside to the Slayer revolution? Lots of super strong girls with no clue where to pull their weight.

Not that Xander has much house-rebuilding experience himself.

But at least he’s done the building thing before. And since most of the rebuilding is really building (after a bit of slayer-powered demo), it’s not totally new territory.

But living an extended episode of This Old House? Kinda exhausting.

Xander flops down on the sofa and groans. Screw the disintegrating flooring in the kitchen, a hot tub is the next item on his ‘to do’ list. Or maybe they could just get an in-house masseuse.

“Here.” Giles hands him a steaming mug.

It’s probably tea but at this point Xander wouldn’t care if it’s Drano as long as it’s hot.

“The house is looking good,” Giles says, taking a sip of his own drink

Xander looks around at the repaired holes on the walls waiting to be painted, and the metal poles bracing up the ceiling where a wall used to be.

He rests his head back on the cushion and lets his shoulders relax. “Yeah, it is.”


Five

When asked later, Xander will swear up and down that this was not his plan when he knocked on Giles door.

He was simply seeing if Giles wanted to take advantage of actually having a Slayer-free house. Advantage-taking of the order-Chinese-and-watch-slash-mock-the-vampire-movie-on-cable variety.

But the suggestion flies out of his head when Giles opens the door wet and naked from the waist up.

Did he mention the wet and the naked?

He’s pretty sure his brain flies out of his head too because otherwise how does he explain the sudden kissing of Giles? It’s unlikely that he’s suddenly developed a lack of resistance to seeing half-naked Giles.

Although once upon a time he had difficulty resisting Cordelia, so really, anything’s possible.

When they pull apart, Giles just stands there and blinks a couple of times. Xander can practically see him trying to formulate an articulate thought – not that Xander has any of those. Mostly he’s got ‘kissing Giles good’ and ‘more.’

And since Giles isn’t expressing horror – and there was definite participation – he goes with those.

The second kiss gives him time to appreciate stuff. Like how good Giles lips feel against his, and how the stubble rubbing against his chin is weird and different and also oddly right.

That jolts Xander back to reality and he pulls back.

“Um, so, maybe we should, you know, talk,” he manages to stumble out while staring at his own shoes.

He looks up again when Giles clears his throat. Giles has that amused look on his face he sometimes gets while reading one of his books. “It’s unlikely we’ll have the house to ourselves again anytime soon. Why don’t we save the talking for later?”

“Talk later?” Xander repeats in some kind of stupid stupor.

Giles puts both hands on Xander’s shoulders and pulls him into the room, closing the door behind him. “Later,” he says with a smile.

And then it sinks in. “Yes, later!” Xander rocks on his heels. “That’s a very good plan. I like that plan. You’re very good at plans, have I ever – ?”

He decides to be okay with being interrupted since he’s interrupted with a kiss, and was only talking to cover for the Oh god, what do I do now?

From the way he’s being kissed, Xander doesn’t think Giles is having that problem. And that’s a very good thing.

It’s an even better thing when Giles squeezes Xander’s dick through his pants.

Xander has no more complaints about not being a girl.


*end*