i promise i am safe in the bathroom, giles i’ve been doing it in my own since i was a kid. actually my mom said i potty trained quicker than any other baby she knew. are you impressed? have i convinced you?
[ He's just going to apply a little force, via his shoulder -- the door bangs open and Giles is there, looking somewhat surprised that it worked so easily. But he manages to recover quickly and darts inside, shutting the door behind him to keep them from getting interrupted by unwanted parties (Spike).
He focuses on Buffy, genuine and profound relief on his face at the sight of her. ]
( see one very disgruntled buffy summers, sat on the toilet, thighs pressed together, stretching the hem of her night dress down to cover her knees. she kicks the underwear off her legs, toeing it off to the side. )
Yes, shockingly what any manner of vampires or creepy crawlers couldn’t do, a bathroom has failed to pick up the torch. You know, there’s really no more mystique between us.
( stretching her foot out, she kicks lightly at giles’ calf. )
At least turn around. And cover your ears. And hum!
[ He's not doing any of that. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest and gives her the sort of stern, no-nonsense look that was taught in classes at the Watchers Academy and has not, in fact, ever worked to persuade Buffy to do anything. But old habits die hard. ]
And let you climb out of the window while my back is turned? No.
[ He softens slightly. ]
Buffy. I've seen you in far worse circumstances. Now be a good girl and.. [ He gestures vaguely. ] Go ahead.
I couldn’t climb out the window. I haven’t washed my hands.
( there is a small bit of blankness in her expression, temporary spinning wheels in her brain to the sound of good girl on giles’ lips, and if that’s enough of a thing to be explored here, in this context. her eyes belatedly narrow, a slow shake to her head. )
Don’t good girl me. You’re the one being weird. ( a gesture at him, before immediately pinning her nightie back to her knees. ) I’m pee-shy. I’m not doing a staring contest with you — turn around, be a good boy, and I’ll clean up.
[ It's clear that Giles doesn't like anything about this idea, but he's willing to concede -- a little -- as long as it means that she's happy with him. At least he hasn't been kicked out, and his headache from being separated from her is already fading. He sighs. ]
Fine.
[ Arms still crossed, he turns around to face the door -- more or less. It's not quite a full turn, enough to be able to glance around and watch out of the corner of his eye if he should so choose. ]
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when i agreed i didn’t know that would involve
the bathroom
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It includes all rooms, Buffy
How am I supposed to protect you if you're behind a locked door?
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i promise i am safe in the bathroom, giles
i’ve been doing it in my own since i was a kid. actually my mom said i potty trained quicker than any other baby she knew. are you impressed? have i convinced you?
action! in the bathroom
Buffy? [ Rattling the handle. ] Buffy, open up this instant!
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( extremely suddenly bathroom shy. the well dries up, so to speak. (the door is, notably, unlocked.) )
Five minutes! I can’t go when you’re listening.
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He focuses on Buffy, genuine and profound relief on his face at the sight of her. ]
Oh, thank god.
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Yes, shockingly what any manner of vampires or creepy crawlers couldn’t do, a bathroom has failed to pick up the torch. You know, there’s really no more mystique between us.
( stretching her foot out, she kicks lightly at giles’ calf. )
At least turn around. And cover your ears. And hum!
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And let you climb out of the window while my back is turned? No.
[ He softens slightly. ]
Buffy. I've seen you in far worse circumstances. Now be a good girl and.. [ He gestures vaguely. ] Go ahead.
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( there is a small bit of blankness in her expression, temporary spinning wheels in her brain to the sound of good girl on giles’ lips, and if that’s enough of a thing to be explored here, in this context. her eyes belatedly narrow, a slow shake to her head. )
Don’t good girl me. You’re the one being weird. ( a gesture at him, before immediately pinning her nightie back to her knees. ) I’m pee-shy. I’m not doing a staring contest with you — turn around, be a good boy, and I’ll clean up.
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Fine.
[ Arms still crossed, he turns around to face the door -- more or less. It's not quite a full turn, enough to be able to glance around and watch out of the corner of his eye if he should so choose. ]