TITLE: If You Get Fired, Get Drunk!
AUTHOR: Goddess Isa
EMAIL: slaythis99@aol.com
SUMMARY: The aftereffects of Helpless that we never saw. Giles and Joyce.
heehee.
SPOILER: Helpless
DISTRIBUTION: Sandee, of course - My site -
http://members.aol.com/slaythis99/slay.htm - Crystal and Butterfly if they
want it - A Soul's Redemption - Anyone else - sure, just email me & lmk where
it's going - I like seeing my name in print =)
RATING: TV-MA
DISCLAIMER: Poopoo head Joss owns them. Not fair, not fair, not fair!!!!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This too was inspired by the Life Lessons From Melrose
Place. At least all the talented people have new jobs. And damn, 'cause I
missed Profiler this week.
4/23/00

"Tell me the truth," Joyce said after taking a long drink from Giles'
last bottle of vodka. "Did you like your job?"

"Being a Watcher? I bloody hated it! The benefits sucked and the pay
was lousy."

Joyce took another drink. "And Buffy?"

His face softened a bit, almost into a smile. "I love Buffy. The
daughter I never had and always wanted." he took the vodka from her and
finished the bottle.

"Hey," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Let's not act childish now," he said.

"No, no, we wouldn't want that." Joyce giggled. "We all know what
happened the last time you and I forgot to act our ages."

"I'd rather not remember." he made a face.

"Oh, 'cause it was so bad?" she asked. "'Cause if there was a problem--"

"I think you're the one who was lacking in the performance area." he
commented.

"You're acting like a baby."

"Am not!"

"Yes. You. Are!" she got up and went to the liquor cabinet, browsing
for something good. "You act so great, all British and all."

"I *am* British!"

"Whoopee for you!"

"I do not have to take this," he said.

Joyce pulled out a bottle of good scotch. "Aw, come on. Let's just get
drunk."

"We already are drunk, Joyce."

"Then let's get more drunk!" she giggled. "I'll even get naked."

Giles didn't object.

*****

"The room's all swirly," Joyce said when she was laying on her back on
Giles' bed. They'd made it up the stairs flinging clothing here and there and
now he was giving her very good oral sex and she wasn't even paying attention.

"The ceiling is falling," she observed. "Is it swirly where you are?"
she asked.

He looked up at her and frowned. "It's not worth the effort."

"Do you wanna have sex?" she asked, giggling. "'Cause I'm all hot and I
need to cool down."

"Perhaps a shower then?" he suggested.

"Race you to the bathroom."

*****

"Giles?" Buffy called after letting herself into his apartment. "Giles!"

She took her key out of the door and locked it behind her. "GILES!"

No answer. She stepped over one of his tweed jackets and sighed.
"Giles, I need to talk to you."

Still nothing. "My mom's gone, Willow and Oz are out, Xander's sulking,
and Cordelia's out shopping. Angel's trying to catch some sorta evil demon
thing so I really need my..." she stopped talking when she noticed the
bottles.

Lots and lots and lots of bottles. She kicked the beer and vodka and
scotch and rum and brandy and tequila bottles out of her way and stood in the
center of his living room, sighing. There were clothes everywhere, including
a pair of very familiar, very ugly bone colored shoes.

"I hate frumpy women," she commented.

Buffy went to the staircase and screamed Giles' name, banging on the
railing with a stake. "GILES!"

All she heard was snoring, so she finally just rolled her eyes and left.

After the door slammed shut, Joyce pulled the covers down from her face.
"Think she heard me?"

"Not a chance."

*****

Later that night, in bed, Buffy told herself for the millionth time that
the brown blouse on Giles' kitchen counter did *not* belong to her mother.