Considering how many stairs she'd been asked to climb with 'no peaking!', Buffy was awfully glad she had Slayer grace. Sometimes she wished the calling came with an extra helping of patience too. Finally, when they had been walking on level ground a few paces, Buffy heard a door open, and her Watcher lead her out into an open feeling space. Warm night air enveloped her. They were on the roof of the school, obviously, but why? What was next on his list of crazy training ideas? Buffy wondered. Learning to fly?
“Alright,” Giles said at last, "you can open them now." There on the rooftop stood a small round table bearing a healthy, balanced meal (of course) and too many little red and white candles that twinkled only feebly (in contrast to the streetlights of Sunnydale, spread beneath them like a carpet of stars) trying so very hard to be romantic in the face of overwhelming opposition that they somehow succeeded through sheer adorable patheticness.
“Oh my God, Giles!” Buffy nearly gasped, “Is this a date?”
His smile was somehow both smug and self-deprecating, maybe even apologetic. “I’m honestly not sure if it’s the first or the third,” he said, “But there is food, and I did pay for it.”
“Hummm, let’s call it the fourth date,” Buffy said, taking both his hands and walking into the space that had been between them. She kissed him on the lips and brushed the whole front of her body ever so slightly against his.
“Oh, I think I like that idea,” he agreed. He pulled her body against him and bent as if to return her kiss. Suddenly, he pulled his head erect, frowning, bemused. “What was the third date then?" he asked, "The motel?”
Buffy shook her head, smiling playfully. “That was the first date,” she explained, “the one with the more-or-less just kissing.”
He gave her an equally playful exacerbated look. “I ought to know better by now than to ask you to explain things,” he said.
“The parking lot was the third date,” she explained anyway, “the one with the fucking amazing sex. We did it backwards. The dating, not the sex. That was exactly right.”
“Well,” he smiled, “I’m glad one of us was able to follow all of that.”
“Hey,” Buffy smiled, “veteran TV viewer here. I can keep up with a good story even chopped up and out of order.”
“Hold on a moment,” he said, brow furrowing again. “Excuse my... well I honestly don’t know if it’s cultural ignorance or... generational, but if that was a third date, what on earth do you do on a fourth date?”
Buffy smiled, “You’ll find out after dinner,” she said coyly.
“Well... as long as we’re doing things out of order...” Giles suggested hopefully.
Buffy shook her head. “Nope,” she said. “I think we can start going in order now that we’ve got the attention of that critical seventeen to forty-seven year-old demographic.”