Title: "One Night in Cleveland" 1/1
Author: Lena a.k.a. Jess
Fandom: Buffyverse, Giles/OC
Warnings: Adult Situations, Sex
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is God, and I'm just a lowly worshipper. None of this is belongs to me...blah, blah, blah.
Summary: Giles has flown to Cleveland in search of Buffy, but, once again, he is disappointed. You are a demon hunter, trying to unwind after a night on the 'job.' Very nice things happen. Between season 2 and 3
Beta'd by:

Living on the Cleveland Hellmouth makes you twitchy. Everyday it was something different. Tonight, it was a few members of the Sisterhood of Jhe, wanting to open the Hellmouth. You never really could understand why anyone would want to end the world. You thought that there were too many good things to enjoy in this world, like a single malt scotch.

You live in a hotel. It's a very nice one, though. It cost almost two-hundred dollars a night, but it was more than worth it. It had room service and everything. Being a demon killer for hire had its detriments, but one of the pay offs was….well, the pay off. It paid wonderfully.

Tonight, you are enjoying your drink when you see a man come in. He's a good looking man: around forty, brown hair, green eyes, glasses, and was wearing tweed, which had to be boiling hot in the summer. Even in Cleveland, it got hot in July. To you, he looks like a librarian, but a very sexy librarian.

He sits down two seats down to your left. To you he looks as if his puppy died or something. He seems to be suffering from some deep disappointment. Before the bartender can get down to him, you signal him over, and tell him that you want to buy the gentlemen's drinks tonight. You've had a fruitful and prosperous night, so you may as well pass on the happiness a little.

After the man made his order and realized that you had paid for his drink, you move down so that you are sitting beside him. "You look like you've had a hard night," you say to him, looking at him by way of the mirror behind the bartender.

He sighed dejectedly. "That would be the understatement of the year."

You realize that he's British. Could he get any sexier? You raise an eyebrow at him. "That bad, huh? Anything you can talk about?"

He pauses for a moment, as if contemplating as to whether to tell you or not. Finally, he says, "I'm looking for a missing friend. I had been given word that she was here, but that proved to be false." He actually turns to look at you for the first time. "I'm sorry, I haven't even thanked you for the drink."

You smile. "Nah, it's ok. I'm sure that pretty women are buying you drinks all the time, a good lookin' guy like yourself."

He looks down, his face turning red. "Not as often as you seem to think," he mumbles shyly.

"Really? The women are blind wherever you're from. Where are you from, if I may ask?" You start to take another sip of your drink.

"Sunnydale, California," he replies.

And you nearly choke on your drink. You know about Sunnydale. Any demon hunter worth their price knew about Sunnydale. It was the Hellmouth of all Hellmouths, the end all and be all. Now you couldn't help but wonder exactly who he was looking for.

You try to cover it up, but he notices your sputtering anyway. "Is there something wrong?" he asks you.

You set your drink back down, taking a second to wipe your mouth with a napkin. "You're from Sunnyhell? Good luck to you, friend." You pick your drink back up, this time successfully taking a drink from it.

He looks at you, confused. "You've heard of Sunnydale? I'm surprised, since it's such a small town."

You finally actually turn to look at him instead of looking at him through the mirror. "Your little town is on a Hellmouth." You motion to the bartender for another drink. You wouldn't normally be quite that blunt about it, but Scotch makes you a little loose lipped.

He looks at you a little warily, but seems to want to be honest. "Yes, but we manage. If you don't mind me asking, how do you know about Hellmouths?"

You give him a half-smile. "You mean how do I know besides Cleveland is on another one? Sure, it's not quite as active as I've heard Sunnydale's is, but it keeps me busy." The bartender brings you your drink, of which you promptly take a sip. "I'm a demon hunter by trade." He only looks at you for a moment, not responding. "What, you think that a woman can't be a demon hunter?"

He quickly shakes his head. "That's not it at all. Most just aren't as free with that information as you are."

You give him a full smile this time. "And how would I get jobs if I didn't talk to people about this?" You suddenly remember that you don't even know this man's name. "And now it's my turn to have been rude. I'm Jessica, by the way."

He also realizes that he hasn't introduced himself. "Rupert," he says, putting out his hand. You shake it, noting that he has a good, firm handshake. You let your hand linger for an extra second before pulling away.

"So, you're here looking for someone," you say, turning back towards the bar. "Tell me about this someone. What does she look like?"

Rupert reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He opened it up to where his pictures were, showing them to you. The picture that he shows to you is of three teenagers, one young boy with dark hair, a red headed girl, and a tiny blond girl. He points to the blond girl. "Her name is Buffy. She ran away over two months ago, and no one has heard from her."

You take the photo from him to look at it closer. "My god, she's so young." You can't believe that someone who looks like that would survive in Cleveland for long. "She's practically a child." Sure, you're not that much older than her, but twenty-five feels like a lifetime from being a teenager. You hand the wallet with the photo back to him.

"I assure you, she's more than capable of handling herself," Rupert says, putting his wallet back into his pocket.

"If she's survived Sunnydale, then she's obviously a superhero." You really haven't ever heard anything positive about Sunnydale. Supposedly, a near apocalypse happens at least once a year. Nowhere else is quite that active. No one's quite sure what attracts the true crazies to Sunnydale, but you know that you won't take a job there unless it pays an absolute shit ton of money. Rupert and this girl are a lot braver than you are to live in Sunnydale, or much less intelligent, you can't decide which.

Rupert gives you a strange look. "Is she a superhero?" You would believe just about anything, considering everything that you have seen tonight alone. Before he can say anything, you hold up your hands. "Superhero got it." You get the strangest feeling that he is probably not supposed to tell you. You think you know what she could be, but decide to not ask. "Sorry, though, I don't think I've seen her running around. I'm sure that I would remember her." You can only hope that the girl is still alive.

"I think that you would." You think that the girl might be his daughter. When he speaks about her, a look of pride spreads across his face. You can only wonder what made this girl run away, but you don't want to ask. He also looks terribly worried about her.

Before you can really think to stop yourself, you reach your hand over to his, giving it a squeeze. "I'm sure that you'll find her, alive and well. She looks like she could take good care of herself."

The two of you spend the next two hours drinking, and sharing war stories about one of the oldest professions, demon hunting (no, not THAT one). You still can't put your finger on exactly why Mr. Librarian is a demon hunter, but you finally decide that they why isn't as important as that he is.

After relating one regaling story of a less than intelligent demon who tried to open the Cleveland Hellmouth, only to be sucked into it, Rupert drunkenly laughs boisterously. By your own slightly blurred vision, you can tell that you've had more than your fair share to drink as well.

You try to look at the time on your watch, but end up having to cover one eye just so that you can focus on the little hands or arms or whatever they are called that point to the numbers. It's almost two in the morning, if you're reading it right. "Hell, it's later than I thought," you say, slurring a little.

"Is it really?" You put your wrist in front of his face, and he gently grips your wrist to keep it steady enough so that he can read the time. "It is late. This has been the first enjoyable evening that I've had in months, though. Tempus fugit and all."

"Times does fly when you are having fun." You flag the bartender over, finally offering to pay your now very large bar tab. Tonight has been one of the better ones you have had in a while as well.

"You know Latin," he asks, sounding a little surprised.

"I went to a Catholic high school." You toss money at the bartender, unable to focus your eyes on the price. By the smile on his face, you know you've given him too much, but it's not important. You turn to see Rupert looking at you, looking a bit amused. "What, I can't have layers?"

You see him smirk. "I just can't picture you in a school girl uniform."

"I've still got it if you'd like to see me in it." Sure, that may be the alcohol talking, but the guy is good looking. He blushes, but before he can say anything, you stand up, kind of wobbling before you tip back over against the bar. You turn to look at him. "Care to walk the tipsy lady up to her hotel room?"

"Of course," he says, standing up to help you. You need to take the elevator, since your room is on the top floor of the hotel, something you always do as an extra safety precaution (most enemies get tired of looking for you after the tenth or so floor).

"Where are you staying?" You ask him while waiting for the elevator, which obviously was sitting on the top floor, since it's taking forever to make it back down.

"I…I actually don't have anywhere," Rupert said. "I didn't really think that part out."

You gasp, just thinking of something. "I didn't make you miss your plane back, did I?"

He shook his head. "No, my plane doesn't leave until tomorrow. I guess I was just expecting to sleep at the airport."

Now that just won't do at all. A man who looks that good sleeping all by himself in an uncomfortable airport chair? That won't do at all.

The elevator finally arrives, you take his arm, and he leads you inside of the elevator. Because of the time of night, there's no one else getting on the elevator. Once the elevator starts going up, you turn to him and say, "I'm going to have to thank you for being such a gentleman and accompanying me to my room."

He doesn't seem to catch your not-so-hidden meaning. "I'm not sure I can handle any more drinks tonight," he says with a laugh.

You look up so you can look him in the eyes. "I wasn't talking about drinks, darlin'." You grab him by his tie and pull him close so that you can kiss him. He seems more than a little surprised, but at least he has the sense to kiss back. You stumble a bit, pulling him back with you and you slam against the rows of floor buttons. Suddenly, the elevator jerks to a stop.

"What just happened? Was the kiss that good that we stop elevators?" You ask, confused.

He pulls you back a bit from the wall. "I think you fell against the emergency stop button." You turn to look and see that yes, the button is now pressed down.

"So that's what just stabbed me in the ass." You turn back to him. "Gives us time then." You kiss him again, and conversation stops for the moment. Even through the fuzzy haze of alcohol, you can tell that he's a good kisser. He's not slobbery, but he's s not tight lipped either.

You reach up and unknot his tie, sliding it off and letting it drop to the ground. He reaches up and pulls your shirt over your head, taking his lips off of yours just long enough to remove the garment. He unsnaps the front of your bra, and right now, you are incredibly grateful that you wore the front snap bra today.

You start unbuttoning the front of his shirt, so that you aren't the only one topless here. When you have his shirt unbuttoned and push it down his shoulders, you pull away so that you can get a good look at him. He's well built. He's not covered with muscles, but you aren't into that anyway. He looks very toned, though, as if he's always doing some type of action. You run your hand down his chest in appreciation. "Nice," you say.

"My view looks lovely as well," he says, finishing the removal of your bra. He kisses you again, but slower this time. You feel his hand on your breast, rubbing and teasing your nipple. You moan into his mouth, relishing the sensation.

Your hand trails down to his groin, which you start to rub. Now it's his turn to moan. You unzip his pants so that you can slip your hand inside of them. You pull him out and start to move your hand up and down his shaft. This elicits a much louder moan from him.

You feel his hands move down to start to undo your jeans. He slides them down and you kick them off and out of the way. He presses you against the wall and slides himself inside of you. He then lifts you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He starts to pump into you, and you can't help but be amazed that he can hold you up. You think that he must have even more hidden strength than you realize. Then he hits your g-spot and you loose all ability for conscious thought.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and fuck back with all your strength. You don't last that long at all, screaming his name when you feel yourself crashing down from the fantastic orgasm that he's giving you. He's groaning and panting as well, and just after your peak, you feel him shudder his orgasm.

You slide back down as he slips out of you. You reach up and kiss him again, feeling fuzzy-minded, although now it's more from the orgasm than the scotch from earlier. Then, you happen to look over his shoulder and notice the camera in the upper corner.

You burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, but I think we had an audience." You point to the camera. He turns around, and starts to laugh a little as well while blushing. "If I had realized it I would have said something. Want to take this out of the elevator and into my room so that we don't have viewers?"

He nods, and the two of you get dressed and you hit the emergency stop button again and the elevator starts moving again, taking the two of you up to your room for a wild night.