In the Still of the Night
You sit at your computer desk in Rupert's home. It was really quite an honor that he let one of these "infernal machines" invade his home just so you could spend more time together. At the moment, you're surrounded by paper, research you've been gathering for months and compiling for the better part of a week (and right about now you're agreeing heavily with the "infernal machine" diagnosis). You have headphones on to keep you focused. Rupert can get you thinking distracting thoughts just by walking by and smiling...okay, he doesn't even have to smile. But tonight Rupert, with your encouragement, is taking the time to read for pleasure not prophecy and sits across the room behind you on his sofa.
Rupert looks up at your fifth sigh of exasperation in the past 15 minutes, closes his book and smiles. He's not getting into his book as he had hoped anyway and has decided tonight is his night to be *your* watcher. He can see the tension across your shoulder blades in the thin cotton dress you've worn. Rupert stands and stretches, slipping off his jacket, his tie and hanging them on his coatrack. He opens the top three buttons on his shirt, reclaims his book for cover and moves to a chair with a better angle of your face.
Realizing he's now in your peripheral vision, he tries to make a show of reading the book but soon he cannot help but to watch you again. Your pencil end follows a line of text on the screen, a small furrow lines your brow as you struggle to work out what you've possibly done this time. Rupert stares as the light from the monitor plays in your bright eyes. He has closed the book seeing now that you are stressing out on the computer.
Your exclamation of "What error!?" breaks the silence of the room, followed by three or four choice expletives whispered through clenched teeth. Rupert covers his mouth with his hand and stifles a laugh. You throw the pencil down and rub your face in your hands.
Rupert sets the book down and decides to stop you for the evening. You need to be relaxed. He turns off the little lamp beside the chair he was in and makes his way to the light switch by the door, snapping it off as well. The room is now lit only by the light on your desk. He moves to the sofa and grabs your favorite blanket, the big fluffy blue one draped on the back and unfolds it to cover the leather of the couch.
Rupert looks up at the sound of your resumed typing. He disappears into the bedroom for a minute and emerges wearing only the green satin robe you gave him for his birthday. He carries a basketful of candles which he dutifully distributes between the coffee table, and a few bookcase tops around the room. As he begins to light them, he hears you begin to sing quietly to the music on your headphones.
In the still of the night
as I gaze from my window
at the moon in its flight
my thoughts all stray to you.
He smiles brightly and stalks slowly up behind you, enjoying his serenade.
In the still of the night
while the world is in slumber,
You startle a bit as Rupert gently removes your headphones. He pushes your hair aside and kisses the back of your neck. He moves his lips to your ear and begins to finish the song he interrupted.
oh, the times without number,
Darling, when I say to you
As he sings, Rupert reaches around you snugly to the keyboard. He saves your program and switches off the computer with extremely un-novice-like proficiency. You turn to him, jaw slightly agape. He grins and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. As you wrap your arms around his neck, he stands you up.
Rupert pulls back to look into your eyes. He wiggles his eyebrows and dances you to the sofa, singing once more.
Do you love me as I love you?
Are you my life-to-be, my dream come true?
Or will this dream of mine
fade out of sight
He lowers you to the couch and stands once more. He unties his robe and shrugs it to the floor. The candlelight plays against his flesh. As if you weren't having a hard enough time breathing, he sings once more as he kneels to the sofa, pressing to you.
like the moon growing dim
on the rim of the hill
in the chill still of the night
He kisses you deeply as you melt into his embrace.
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| The character of Rupert Giles and the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer were created by Joss Whedon and are © Fox. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |