Kalleidoscope


Author: Fyre
Rating: G
Pairing: Giles/Buffy
Disclaimer: Not mine. I pout. Still not mine.
Spoilers: Up until after 'The Body'
Summary: Group cheerup for the Scoobies
. Notes: I'm doing the happy-fic thing. I feel ill now. *searches for darkfic desperately*. This had to be done though. I have my reasons. And no, they're not perverted or kinky, for once :-P
Dedication: To The Wench. You know why :)

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Twin smudges of lumpy brown paint were carefully, yet roughly streaked down each cheek, parallel and dangerous-looking, beneath make-up free hazel eyes. A similar stripe ran down the warrior-girl's nose.

Only the large, red, clown-like glob of gunk that had been daubed on the tip of her nose suggested that she was anything but serious.

"Atten-hut!" A formal English voice barked. The young woman jerked her weapon up against her shoulder, raised her hand in what was meant to be a salute, crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out.

The three adults lined up alongside her stifled laughter, only to receive warning glares from their `Colonel'.

"Captain Slayer, do you see yourself as unsuited to this post?"

Blinking at the green-eyed man, the sandy-haired woman pursed her lips as if deep in thought. "No, sir. Not at all sir! Permission to grab you by the hair and drag you back to my cave to rut with you like a wild beast, sir!"

"Uh...uh..." The expression the group were most familiar with returned full force, accompanied by an attractive shade of blush. But then, it was gone. "Permission denied, Captain."

Pouting, she returned to her previous pose, weapon shouldered, tongue out, eyes well and truly crossed.

"Nice one, Buff." The brunette beside her whispered, with a grin. "You managed to shut him up for at least ten seconds."

"Harris!" The bark had returned full force. "You, Summers Junior and Rosenberg take the left flank. No muttering in the ranks, you hear. All I want to hear is out and out war cries." Slapping the barrel of his weapon down in his hand, the older man looked at the four in front of him. "Are we clear?"

"YESSIR!"

"No fair."

The Colonel's eyebrow rose. "Something not to your liking, Slayer?"

Pulling her bandanna lower over her brow, she shot a glare at him, faked a salute and promptly did a commando roll into the nearby patch of bushes. Her friends couldn't help but laugh as she peeked out from the bush.

Scattering, the other trio dispersed through the camouflaged setting, leaving the older man to follow his younger, more Slayer-y partner. Following the muddy footprints, he managed to gargle out "Oh deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee..." before she pinned him down on his back.

Lifting one of the loose purple paintballs from her pack, she bent forward and delicately splatted it on the centre of his chest. "Hit!"

"Slayer!" His yell was suitably impressive. She leapt to attention again, grinning widely. "There are three rules of combat." He growled, trying to smother a smile. "One. Don't hit your commanding officer. Two. Don't BLOODY-WELL hit your Commanding officer. Three. Don't..."

"Bloody-well hit your bloody commanding bloody officer, sir?" Her grin was contagious, teeth glinting in her dirt-smeared face.

He bent forward to eye-level with her. "No, Captain." He pursed his lips and glared. "Three." A red paintball splutted down on her head and streamed over her hair. "Don't trust anyone, especially your commanding officer!" She shrieked, rubbing frantically at her goggles. "Hah!" Before her vision cleared, he snatched her bandanna and darted away. "It's a free for all."

"I'm going to kill you!" Rubbing at her goggles with her sleeve, she cleared the lenses enough to see. "With my bare hands!"

His laughter floated back to her, but he was out of sight. Grabbing her paint-gun, she swung it up against her chest, both hands in the fire position if anyone – be they family, friends or soon-to-be- splatted Watcher – happened to pass her line of sight.

"I don't believe it." Xander whispered from the hidden depths of his camouflage bush. His companion glanced at him. "The old man did it. He got the bandanna."

"And?"

Looking over at Dawn, the brunette gave her a sheepish grin. "I bet him that he wouldn't get near enough to her to..."

Both yowled in dismay as paintballs crashed down on their head, red paint trickling over their faces simultaneously. "You owe me twenty dollars, Harris." They heard rather than saw the older man. By the time they cleared their lenses he was gone.

"Get the feeling he's just too damn good at this?" Willow appeared, adding to the red paint with vivid jade, then flitted off, leaving Dawn and Xander to exchange embarrassed glances.

"I thought you said they wouldn't be able to see us." Dawn poked the older boy in the chest accusingly, pouted around the camouflage paint.

He shrugged, gave her a wide grin that faded as she slapped a bright yellow paintball down the neck of his shirt, got to her feet and ran away, laughing. "Now that just wasn't nice!" He wailed, staggering to his feet, only to receive a paintball from Buffy, from halfway across the paintball course. "That's it!" He reverted to soldier-boy mode, swung the barrel of his paint-blaster this way and that. "This, my friends, is war!"

Immediately, four spurts of paints shot from four different directions, all soaking the brunette, who released a pitiful and astonishingly girly shriek of despair. The laughter that accompanied the paint rapidly faded in different directions, leaving the drenched and rainbow-coloured brunette staring down at himself, his loose hair dripping.

The unfortunate – and main – target staggered for cover, failing to avoid the barrage of paintballs and sprays of four other colours that were aimed in his direction.

Shrieks of laughter shrilled from the girls as they raced around the course, diving and ducking behind bushes and props that were laid around. None of them, however, could rival the former Watcher and his deadly aim.

Swinging behind a tree, barrel of his gun pressed against to his forehead, 'Colonel' dipped his hand into the depths of his bag, hefted a scarlet paint-bomb in his hand, peering warily round the tree, grinned widely and lobbed the missile overarm.

Willow screeched as the ball exploded on her back, whipped round to find Buffy standing behind her, wide-eyed. "You!" With a wide grin, the red head swept her paintgun towards the Slayer.

"No! Wasn't me!" The green spurt of paint stifled her and she shrieked, back-pedalling until she tripped over and fell in a heap alongside the tree. She caught a Ripper-esque grin, before a burst of red poured all over her.

Barely managing to get to her feet, she heard a yell from Dawn, spun to find her dark-haired sister pinned against one of the low walls by a familiar woman in a gorgeous red dress, long, blonde hair elaborately pinned up.

"Buffy!"

The Slayer grinned wickedly, nodded to Giles. Xander and Willow seemed to have had the same idea, half a dozen multicoloured paintballs sailing through the air, impacting the blonde figure's perfect and neat clothing.

"This is dry-clean only!" She shrieked, raising her hands over her head to ward off the accurately flying globs of paint. The red dress was reduced to a kaleidoscope of colours within minutes, the Goddess releasing her hold on Dawn and fleeing.

Xander whooped triumphantly, punching the air. "Yeah! Run, demon goddess! Run like a scared bunny! Ha!"

"Did you see her face!" Dawn broke into a fit of giggles. "It was like 'No! Not the outfit! Anything but the outfit!'"

"That was a little too close." Out of the younger of the Summers hearing ranges, Giles frowned, rubbing his brow and leaving a vivid scarlet stripe there. "We should probably finish up now, head back to the house."

Buffy nodded. "I'm out of paintballs anyway." She noted mournfully, gazing into her bag. "All of them...but," Stretching, she delicately smashed it into his hair. "That one." She finished with a sweet smile.

"Pity." In his grin, she could see the devilish teenager he must have been. That is, until the contents of half a dozen scarlet missiles were tipped over her head nonchalantly. "I still had a few left." He added, bending and dropping a kiss on her nose.

Shooting him a glare that barely concealed her amusement, she pulled a face, wiping tendrils of crimson from her cheeks. "You pig." She said succinctly, turning and stomping towards the main entrance, leaving the chuckling Giles and her friends to follow in her wake.

*****


Towelling her hair dry, descending the stairs, Buffy permitted herself to have another glare at Giles. His feet propped on the coffee table, he was thumbing through a book and caught the glare with a smirk, all but his forefinger and index finger on the front of the book sliding out of view.

The Slayer gaped at him, blinked decided it was time for a good `Let's embarrass the Watcher moment'. "Did you just finger me?"

"Not yet." He winked, turned his attention back to the book. "But give me time."

The gape intensified. Okay. Giles had been almost a teenager at the paintball field. Now, he was still acting like that, even though he had become her – and her sister's – legal guardian after her mother's death. And that voice he had just used...the accent wasn't his usual Giles-y accent. It was far too nummy.

Nummy?

Okay, Buff. Reality check. Giles. Old, watcher man, daddy figure. Sexy smirk. Nice eyes. Ear ring. Uh...earring? Earring bad. Very bad. Bad boy...man! Bad, bad man! Naughty. He has to be possessed or something.

"You keep staring, pet, and I'll have to start charging pay-per- view."

"Uh...Giles?" Warily settling on the couch beside him, she pushed her hair back from her face and turned to face him. "What's with you? You're being...unGilesey..."

Lowering the book, he gave her a genuine 'Giles' smile. "I just enjoyed myself today. I don't have the chance to do that often." He reached over, pushed a loose strand of her damp hair back, tucked it behind her ear, his face inches from hers. "Thank you."

She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, his thumb brushing slowly over her cheek. Her eyes flicked down to his hand, shivered unconsciously as the callused tip of his thumb was drawn lightly along her lips.

"Buffy..." Her face was tilted. She lifted her eyes to find green staring at her, darker than she could recall seeing them before.

Closing the distance between them, she hesitantly touched her lips to his. Drawing back, her cheeks flushed, she ducked her head. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She started to get to her feet, felt his hand gently circle her wrist.

"Yes, you should have." Slowly pulling her back down, he drew her into his arms, one hand pushing her hair back from her face, his eyes finding hers. Covering her lips with his, he drew her closer, felt her arms shyly slide around him, her tongue tentatively meeting his.

Sinking into his embrace, she sighed contentedly, let him deepen the kiss, his fingers stroking through her hair softly. Finally pulling back, her lips rising in a small smile, she ran her fingertip down his cheek. "You're right." She whispered. "I should have."

Lifting her fingertips to his lips, he smiled. "You should probably go and get dressed before I let you drag me back to your cave and rut with me like a wild beast." She blushed, grinning with embarrassment. "Not that I would complain." His eyes danced devilishly.

Getting to her feet, she nodded. "I'm sure you wouldn't." She remarked, bending to kiss him again, lightly, almost experimentally. Abruptly, her hand slapped down on his head, trickles of purple splashing down the side of his face. "Look!" She gasped, stepping back with feigned innocence. "A memento of our fun!"

"That was uncalled for." He grimaced, pulling a face as he wiped a hand through his purple hair. "Look at me. I'm a mess now!" Reaching up, he jerked her down, planting a fierce kiss on her lips, running gunky hands over her freshly washed hair.

Struggling to sit up, she glared at him. "You made me a mess!" She complained. "How am I meant to know if I get it all out of my hair?"

"I could check for you." He suggested. Despite her blush, she nodded, rising to her feet and holding out a hand. Taking her tiny hand in his, they walked up the stairs together in silence, exchanging tiny smiles.


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