FIC: "A New Beginning - Part 6 - Scheming" FRM Giles/OC 6/12

[helenkacan]

TITLE: "A New Beginning – Part 6 – Scheming"
AUTHOR: Helena K.
RATING: FRM
PAIRINGS: Giles/OC
CHARACTERS: Rupert Giles, Davies
DEDICATION: To the number 22, as unfortunately no month goes up to 42. And, hey, we're talking about the meaning of life, here.
WARNING: M/M slash relationship.
SUMMARY: Giles has a new life. And a new lover. Or he did. How is he trying to fix things?
TIMELINE: Post Chosen
NOTE: "Speech"
Emphasis
//Thoughts//
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Joss and a whole bunch of alphabetical entities. I know the Polish alphabet. Not the same thing. Not for profit, just fun.
A/N: Day 22 of November. Twenty-second fic. See Giles begin to lay the foundation in order to repair the relationship.
DISTRIBUTION: Posted to my LJ and possibly others; anybody else, please ask.


Rupert Giles was in a hopeful mood. Had been ever since the Magpies had swooped down and made him realize that he should try to patch things up with Davies.

At least he was back to sleeping in his own bed. And, yes, it was a painful reminder that he and Davies had been apart for more than three weeks by now. They could have been intensifying the physical aspects of their relationship, losing themselves in the romantic afterglow of simply being with one another as they realized what they meant to each other, as well as doing mundane things together. Spending precious time with his lover had been so fulfilling. Even when shopping for provisions, something he normally hated to do by himself.

It was no wonder that he'd become so gaunt, especially in his face. So, when the Magpies had arrived with their myriad bags, he'd eaten his first proper meal since the 31st. They had braised lamb shoulder chops and simmered them in a sauce of onions, garlic, carrots and red wine. It was a strong dish and something he needed to remind him that he had an appetite. Surprisingly, it was El who admitted to providing the recipe. She loved to read cookbooks and, usually, had nobody to cook for if the menu was not typical British fare. When she had removed the cover from his soup plate, she was gratified to see Giles close his eyes and take a deep breath, like a man who had just discovered his sense of smell. El had rounded out the meal with a board of bread and cheese and more red wine to wash everything down. And aid in digestion.

When Giles had returned from his ride, his hair boyishly mussed by the breeze, his face shining from the exertion and renewed enthusiasm (for he dearly loved to ride), the Magpies sent him up to bathe and change for dinner. It wasn't too early to begin bringing the man back up to proper standards. And, as El had taken charge of the kitchen, it was Jo and Mil who had stripped the bed, laundered the linens and then, apparently, stuffed the clean but unfortunate sheets at the back of the cupboard. They had remade the bed, plumped up the pillows, aired out the room and even moved a couple of incidental pieces of furniture – anything to make the return to the bedroom less painful for Giles.

So, when Giles had reappeared in the dining room for dinner, clean, shaved, and dressed in a gray shirt, forest green sweater and charcoal trousers as well as shoes and socks, he was greeted by the simple but fragrant stew and the welcome vision of his personal angels who had also freshened up. That cheered him up considerably, as it showed him they'd gone to the trouble just for him.

He enjoyed dinner immensely, not only the food and wine, but also the excellent company. He realized that the Magpies probably had felt unappreciated when their children had grown up and it was only when they came to know Davies that they felt there was someone on whom they could lavish some maternal attention and affection, even though they were only about 10 years older. When El had produced a custard and fruit dessert, Giles protested, saying that he was utterly stuffed. But they would have none of his excuses and insisted that he have at least a few spoons of it. The man needed some fattening up, if only for nutritional reasons.

During dessert, Giles had begun explaining the soul-searching he had done and the conclusions he'd reached – as well as the depressed state in which he'd been floundering. The Magpies tut-tutted and agreed, in good-natured banter, that he had been a fool, but it wasn't too late to mend his ways. Without giving away the specific nature of his job or of the Council's nature, he told them what he intended to do.

Surprisingly, they agreed with his plan. He had to lay the foundation so that, when Davies finally met his colleagues and friends, he would feel as welcome as if he'd known everyone for years. Giles refused to consider the possible risks of the steps he was going to take, of revealing his private life and secrets, one to his professional circle – the other to Davies. But he had to trust in his own improving judgment (that had been so flawed lately) and in Davies's enduring love for him. Or so the Magpies kept reassuring him.

They left him that evening in improved spirits. He knew that they would be paying a visit to Davies the next day to begin their covert operation of subtle indoctrination. They would pester him gently so that he, too, would search his soul to learn if he'd been too impulsive and impatient to give Giles the chance to explain things and, he hoped, redeem himself.

Giles slept well, knowing that the situation was not as hopeless as he'd feared. He felt a renewed sense of purpose for his Council job as well and knew he would go to work in the morning a new man. A man about to strip the veneer of secrecy from his person. All for the love of another man.

END