Author’s Note: Written for the drabble and ficlet challenge meme was going around LiveJournal a couple years ago–set in an alternate version of late Buffy S7.
“Giles, would you like an orgasm?”
It was a good thing that Giles had just swallowed his sip of tea, because otherwise he probably would have spat it out all over the counter. “What??”
Anya set down her own mug of tea and looked at him frankly. “I’m scared. I want to have sex again before the world ends, but I’m bored with Xander. Besides, I think Willow must have granted his wish to make him gay because lately he seems to enjoy that little pissant Andrew’s company more than mine.” The last was said with surprisingly less bitterness than he would have expected.
The Watcher sputtered, frantically trying to stitch back up his shredded dignity. “I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation.”
“I don’t care.” The ex-vengeance demon scowled. “I’m tired of trying to be appropriate, and if the world is going to be overrun by Turok-han and Bringers and other minions of the First, I don’t see why it should matter anyway.”
There was a bizarre sort of logic to that, like most of what came out of Anya’s mouth. Giles inclined his head to acknowledge it, then sighed. Truth be told, perhaps the question wouldn’t have startled him so much if he hadn’t been watching her and contemplating what an old soul lurked behind the façade of the lovely young woman: an old soul with her own kind of ancient wisdom. Or perhaps if both the old soul and the lovely young woman didn’t fascinate him so, far more than was proper for the former fiancee of a young man he considered almost a son.
“And besides,” she continued in a tone of voice that would have made you believe she was saying the most rational thing in the world if you didn’t listen to the words. “It’s all your fault anyway. If you weren’t such a good kisser, I would never have been a little bit relieved when Xander left me at the altar because it meant I could stop wondering if it was inappropriate to be having lustful thoughts about a man other than my intended husband.”
Giles almost choked again–perhaps it might be best to simply give up on his tea until the conversation was over. Anya had been having lustful thoughts about *him*? Since before the disaster at the wedding?
“Well?” she demanded. “Are you going to answer my question?”
He stammered: “I…I…”
He never got a chance to complete that thought, because at that moment Buffy, Xander, Andrew, Willow and Dawn piled through the front door, followed by an army of Potentials, back from scavenging the deserted town for supplies. But–he promised both himself and her silently–he would certainly consider it.