No. 54

Prompt: Buffyverse. Giles. Getting used to the American ways.
http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/685961.html?thread=90173833#t90173833

Getting to the chemist's was a bloody disaster, mostly because in this heathen land it was called a pharmacy. After much miming and using half of a thesaurus, Giles finally found the place, a small, dingy place with harsh fluorescent lighting and sterile linoleum floors. He remembered the chemist shop from his youth, with its gleaming wooden counters and glass jars full of obscure remedies that could be combined into common remedies, like aspirin or cough drops.

Giles stood in the doorway, basket in hand, and was dismayed by the lack of overhead signs. The dispensary counter was not currently occupied by a customer, so Giles marched over to it. The girl behind the counter looked barely older than his newest Slayer. She was reading a magazine about 100 things boys find irresistible.

He cleared his throat.

She looked up. "Oh, hey. What can I help you with?"

Giles unfolded the shopping list he'd stowed in his pocket before leaving the school. "The lack of signage is rather disconcerting, and I think it would be most efficient if I ascertain the locations of my purchases before I wander the aisles uselessly."

The girl's smile brightened; that Americans found his accent charming was often useful. "Sure. What's first on the list?"

He was in dire need of office supplies. The school was woefully under-funded, but in conversations with other teachers he learned that most of them supplied themselves and accepted it as part of the job. He started to read, "Index cards, pens, rubbers –"

The girl made a choking noise. "What?"

"Rubbers," Giles said, enunciating slowly and clearly.

The girl turned an unattractive shade of puce. "Um, how about you give me the list, and I'll write which aisle each item is on?"

Giles smiled hesitantly and handed her the list. "Yes, thank you." The girl, still blushing, accepted the list and set to scribbling on it quickly. Then she handed the list back.

"Good luck."

"Thank you very much for your assistance." Giles scanned the list and headed for the nearest aisle with his required items. The girl had written several question marks next to 'serviettes' (for his morning cup of tea) and written 'napkins' next to it, which was utterly the wrong thing and caused him to blush. Horribly. But she hadn't led him down the feminine hygiene aisle, so maybe she wasn't as mixed up, or American women were terribly uncivilized.

Giles shied away from that thought and continued shopping. For all the girl's mercurial mood swings, she had been very helpful for everything, although the rubbers were near the pencils and pens and not down the aisle she'd listed. Out of an abundance of caution, he checked the aisle she'd written down as the location of rubbers anyway...and came face to face with a display of condoms.

And suddenly he understood why the girl had turned so red. He cleared his throat and ducked into the next aisle before anyone spotted him. Maybe he should have accepted that tutorial on Americanisms after all.