Title: "Journeys End In Lovers Meeting" (7/8)
Author: Della
Disclaimer: None of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer characters are mine... They belong to Joss Wheddon and UPN and WB and any others that have a rightful claim to them and the programme... No infringement was ever intended with this fanfiction...
Feedback: Yes please... *Constructive* flames keep the fire burning, but the good stuff keeps it alive...

Author's Notes: The feedback that I have received concerning this fic has surpassed any dream of receiving any at all... I am so very thankful for it... Melz, thank you... Nikki? Once again a very stirling effort on the Beta-ing, oh and for your suggestion too.. Tempting... chuckle... Thank you...

Giles sat by the lake, once more his haven, though it would always hold a hint of despair for him, and contemplated the talk that he had had with his father.

He had spoken of his Mother, the first time since her passing, and of how, even now, some twenty years past, it still affected him. That had been the most difficult to talk of and it had taken the longest to convey; though he felt it had benefited both himself *and* his father to speak of her. He smiled passed the tears of remembrance and also with the comfort he had finally been able to give his father after all the years that *had* passed.

He had then spoken of Randall, dear, sweet Randall, a friend of the highest degree during a time clouded by the darkest moments of his life. Randall had truly been a light at the end of the tunnel and one that he had helped to extinguish. He had spoken of his despair concerning his friend's demise and also of the circumstances surroundeding it. Never before had he been able to do so, and now, he believed, he would never need to again.

He then spoke of Jenny. His guilt surrounding her death, that he should have been able to prevent it, much as he should have been able to prevent Sophie's demise. He had spoken of his guilt concerning his love for her, that he had never truly loved her as she had loved him. He had also recounted how he had fought the pull of an unknown force that seemed determined to split them apart, and also of his guilt that had he not fought so hard, then perhaps Jenny's life would not have been forfeited.

And then he had spoken of Buffy...

As he thought of his conversation with his father concerning her, he felt an awful void of loneliness rip a chunk from his heart and cruelly shred it to pieces. Felt the tears rise again. In his minds eye he saw her standing before him, her aura alive and sparkling with gaiety and fun, whilst he diligently attempted to bring down dark ominous clouds upon her, with a demonstration to highlight her lack of severity towards her destiny.

To this day she amazed him. How she could find, no matter how tenuous, some smidgen of sunshine amongst the dark nature of her calling and how she could bask in it, even though she must have expected, time after time, his dirge of disapproval. He desperately wanted those times back again, change them so that she did not have to endure *his* clouds, *his* dirge, *his* view of how a destiny should be approached. In a split second he suddenly realised that she had changed him; profoundly changed him.

He sent a silent whisper of apology skywards, along with his love and a prayer that she might receive them both. He wanted, *needed*, her forgiveness, but he was afraid it was too late. 'I understand now,' he wanted to tell her, but he couldn't. She was in California and he was in England and no matter how many times his father urged him to return there, he knew that he couldn't. He could not return to being with her and yet not *be* with her. Just the thought of it tore at him more than being away from her.

For the first time he understood just what that unknown force had been propelling him towards, and if he had known that a beautiful, vivacious, obstinate, opinionated, warm, intelligent and gifted woman had been at the end of it, he would have succumbed long before now... Long before it had become too late.

# #

Harold nursed a cup of tea, whilst his thoughts whirred with the anticipation of finally meeting Willow and young Xander. He wanted to see with his own eyes the the titian haired woman whose intellect and sensitivity belied her youth. He wanted most of all the opportunity to thank her in person. He also wouldn't mind seeing the young man that appeared to rival youthful Rupert's inuring ability to create mischief.

He heard the gravel crunching on their drive and stood to see who it was. He looked out of the window and saw a silver compact car pull up behind the Land Rover and then he saw, whom he could only think was Willow, step out of one side of the car. He turned, placed his tea on the dining table and went to the front door. He opened it to find not one woman but two; the other being a blonde.

His heartbeat picked up a pace or two as his mind considered who the other woman might be. His heart told him immediately but his mind denied it and cautioned his heart not to jump to conclusions. He looked down at Willow taking in every inch of her, his adoration of this young woman growing by the minute. He held out his arms and drew her into a hug. He felt her stiffen a moment, but then relax and return the hug with vigour. On listening to his heart and knowing that the other woman must be Buffy Summers and realising what it must have taken for sweet Willow to get her here, he softly whispered "Thank you so very much, my dear."

Willow simply hugged him back, but when she started to giggle, she pulled out of the hug and said, "Gee, Mr Giles, I know where Giles gets his height from, but do you know how many years it took for Giles to hug any one of us? Sheesh, you don't hang about do you, not that I'm complaining because I'm not. I mean, I told Giles lots of times that a hug might help, but would he listen to me? Oh no, Giles knew best when it came to hugs and the benefit of them or not as he would always say..." She stopped when she felt an insistent prodding in her back.

Harold laughed out loud and managed to splutter, "Now I *know*, without a shadow of doubt, that my son was *not* exaggerating."

"Uh, you gonna introduce us, Wills, or are you gonna babble the day away without us even knowing who we are to each other?"

"Eeep!" Willow suddenly squealed and turned to her companion.

However, before she could utter a word of introduction, Harold took a step forward, bolstered his courage, hoped his heart had not been wrong, and asked, "Buffy Summers I presume?"

Willow giggled. She thought he sounded a cross between James Bond and what Sherlock Holmes might have sounded like.

Buffy simply nodded.

Harold took another step forward until he towered over the Slayer and, with all of his heart behind his words, he softly whispered, "I cannot tell you how much this means to me. I... I wish that I could, but no words on earth can do justice to how I feel."

Buffy blinked up at the elder Giles and then started to softly weep.

Harold immediately engulfed her in a hug and hushed and shushed her, running a comforting hand through her hair. "I... I appear to have a knack of doing this, do I not? Reducing the most courageous of women to tears. I'm so sorry, my dear."

Buffy shook her head against his chest and whispered, "It's... it's my bad, Mr Giles," and hugged him a little tighter.

"Dear Lord," Harold suddenly gasped, "My son also did not exaggerate about your strength."

Buffy let go in an instant and stepped back, with her hands behind her back. "Sorry," she muttered and looked to the ground, "I... I just didn't want you to feel bad."

For a moment or two Harold was at a loss for words, but eventually he moved towards her, gently raised her chin with his hand, and softly whispered, "Bad? Buffy, my dear, my son would have my hide were he ever to think that I had reduced his beloved to tears. All you have to do is promise that you never tell him."

Buffy looked up at him, smiled and instantly liked him. His face reminded her of Giles', only older and if it were possible, which she silently queried, wiser. She started to smile as she also noticed that he had the same green eyes as Giles. If the saying was true for women, that you have to look at the mother to know what you're getting later in life, then it could be true for men also; only looking at the father; then she really didn't mind the thought of being with Giles at all; in fact, she was really looking forward to it. However, when she thought of where she actually stood with Giles, she started to doubt herself.

"Buffy?" Harold gently enquired; all thoughts of a promise leaving him and instead feeling a deep sense of concern for the young woman envelop him.

Buffy plastered a smile on her face and said, "My bad," and added a little uncertainly, "Is... Is Giles inside?"

"No, he's at the lake. He said he needed time alone," Harold replied and quickly offered, "I can drive you if you want?"

"How far is it?"

"Hmm, a couple of miles or so," Harold replied.

"Is it easy to get to?"

"Out through the back gate and there is a driveway that leads you straight there."

Buffy contemplated the offer and the walk a moment before asking, "Is... Is he okay, Mr Giles?"

Harold briefly thought to offer her an out-and-out lie, but quickly decided against it. Instead he said, "In truth? He's better than he has been, Buffy. I believe Sophie's demise brought forth many other sorrowful moments of Rupert's life that he had kept hidden, not only from others, but also from himself."

"Do you think he's up for a visit?"

"From you?" Harold gasped and on Buffy's silent, hesitant nod, he said, "My dear Buffy, I do believe my son would move heaven and earth for just a *fleeting* visit from you."

Buffy briefly brightened, but then fearing she might have misinterpreted what the elder Giles had said to her, she asked, "Uh, does that mean, yes?"

Harold chuckled hard at that and eventually managed to say, "It does indeed. Very much so."

Again Buffy brightened and she turned to Willow and said, "Do you mind if I go see him?"

"Gees, Buffy," Willow exclaimed, "that *is* why we're here, y'know."

Buffy laughed out loud, hugged Willow and then turned to Harold. "Out the back gate and up the driveway?" she asked.

Harold simply nodded and said, "And please don't worry about Willow here. I promised myself that I would give her a couple of pointers on how to handle my son in future."

Buffy felt the need to say something and she did, "I promise, Mr Giles, if Giles'll have me, I'll make you proud of me... and I also promise that I will never, *never* *ever* hurt him ever again."

Harold frowned at her, then turned to Willow, who was tugging at his arm.

"Don't worry, Mr Giles," Willow whispered, "I'll let you know."

Harold nodded with a frown of confusion, then looked up and watched Buffy leave. Only then did he allow himself the luxury of hope that his son was about to have his fondest wish granted, and his heart blossomed with the thought. He might be biased, but he honestly thought no other deserved such a wish; other than perhaps the woman that was about to make his wish come true. He looked back down at Willow and eventually said, "Let's get you and your bags inside."

Willow nodded, accepted his arm about her shoulders and replied, "Um, you know that promise that you didn't get from Buffy? About never telling Giles that you made her cry?"

Harold suddenly stopped walking, his face whitening with shock. He'd forgotten something, something of great importance. "Willow," he gasped, "I've... I've neglected to tell my son just who the mystery woman was."

"No worries, Mr Giles, "Willow confidently assured him, "Buffy's got the last card for him on her. He'll get the message," she added, with a waggle of her eyebrows.

Harold chuckled at her. "You, young lady, are an incorrigible romantic," he gasped, but also admitted, "What would I have ever done without you?"

Willow giggled, feeling a blush creep along her cheeks at the compliment. "Well, if you're anything like Giles, Mr Giles," she replied, "you'd've thought of something."

Harold softly chuckled. 'Yes,' he thought with affection, 'she *is* as adorable face to face as over the telephone. "Well, my dear, sweet Willow," he eventually muttered, "Let's get inside, so I can begin to give you those pointers I promised."

Although Willow nodded and accepted his quick squeeze of her shoulders, she did say, "But a story or two about Giles would be better."

"A story, or two, it is, then," Harold confirmed, then picked up the two suitcases that were by the Land Rover turned and entered the farmhouse, quite looking forward to spending a little time with the young lady that had helped in making his son's wish come true.

# #

She opened the back gate, cringing a little when it squealed in protest. 'Gees,' she thought, 'you poor thing. I bet you could do with a good old-fashioned oiling, eh?' Then started to giggle when she realised she was sympathising with a farmyard gate. She shook her head and closed it, still cringing at the awful sound.

She took one look ahead of her, then started to walk towards confronting her ultimate fear. That Giles didn't see her the way she saw him; that after all this time maybe Quentin *had* been right and it *was* just a father/daughter relationship that Giles wanted. On that thought she looked down at the card in her hands and seriously started to doubt things. 'Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea after all,' she thought, gulping back her fear, 'Maybe, maybe I should leave things alone.'

But then she thought about just where things *were* concerning her and Giles and really *really* didn't like it. Yeah, she wanted more than to be 'just friends' with him, but if this visit only meant that they could be *just* friends, then it's gotta be better than how things were now. 'Hasn't it?' she silently asked.

'Did you not *hear* what elder Giles said to you?' a voice inside her head reminded her.

'Yeah,' she replied, 'but... but that's what *he* thinks,' she argued.

The other voice sighed heavily and then patronisingly replied, 'You know, girl, you seriously need help.'

Buffy snorted aloud at that and said to the air about her, "You're telling me."

# #

Harold guffawed and spluttered, "M-Mother used to call him her "little Devil", but from that day forth when... when the red paint covered him from head to toe, she... she called him her 'little *Red* Devil'."

Willow laughed out loud, her eyes alight with her humour, but also silently made notes of all the things she could hold against Giles. Eventually, when her giggling had dissipated she said, "Awww, that's sooooo cute."

"Yes, well, were you ever to mention this to him, I think he would have my guts for garters," Harold replied, but in truth he wasn't too concerned if she ever were to. "More tea?" he asked, and, on her nod, he leant forward and poured some into her cup.

"So," Willow asked whilst he poured, "got anything else on Giles?" Then 'eeped' and blushed when she realised what she had said.

Harold chuckled, sloshing a bit of her tea into the saucer, "Ah," he said, still jiggling from his laughter, "I thought that was your true ulterior motive."

Willow really tried hard to deny it, but instead she found herself giggling uncontrollably at him. When Harold turned to her and handed her, her cup of tea, she shrugged and asked, "You... you don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," Harold quickly re-assured her, "Actually, I was thinking that whatever it takes to get my son to reveal his emotions and feelings, then I'm all for it."

Willow giggled again, but her next question cut it a little short. She took a breath and asked, "You love him don't you? I... I mean, I can see that, but Giles doesn't talk about you at all, 'n'- 'n' meeting you, I don't know why he doesn't. I would if you were *my* dad."

Harold was about to thank her for the compliment, but the TV, even though switched down to its minimal sound, suddenly started to play some awful music. On the third rendition of "Neighbours, everybody needs good neighbours" he picked up the remote and with a grunt of absolute disapproval he depressed the 'off' button. He then turned to Willow and answered her question instead, "Perhaps I was a reminder of most of the awful things that had happened to Rupert and the less he spoke of me and his home, the more he could concentrate on his calling."

Willow shrugged, "I guess," she softly admitted, but added, "but... but doesn't it bother you that he doesn't speak of you?"

"Not really, my dear," Harold replied, "I suppose I have missed out on one or two opportunities of meeting someone such as yourself and young Xander, *and*, of course, dear Buffy, but I consoled myself with the phone-calls and the too infrequent visits. They were enough, in retrospect to not seeing or hearing from him at all."

"And you've had that in the past?" Willow guessed.

"Oh yes," Harold immediately confirmed. "His 'Ripper' days, as he likes to refer to them. I received no word from him for at least three to four years, and when I did, it was through the Watcher's Council." On her frown he quickly added, "What you must understand, Willow, something that I believe very few know of, was the state that my son was in. He was incapable of letting anyone know, no matter how near or dear to him, of what had transpired."

"Oh," she whispered in response.

"Please don't concern yourself, my dear," Harold quickly re-assured her, "it is something of the past, something that shaped and melded my son into the man he is today. Someone we have the highest respect and love for."

Willow nodded her agreement, afraid that if she spoke her voice would reveal her distress at what Harold had revealed to her.

However, Harold could see in her face how much he had upset her with his revelation and decided to change the subject. "Anyhow," he said, "the past is the past, and should remain as such, something to reflect upon rather than hash up old wounds." When he saw a tiny smile spread across Willow's face, he added, "Now, I have a question for you, my dear. How on earth did you manage to get Buffy here?"

Willow started to giggle at his question, which caused the elder Giles to frown at her. She waved the giggles away with a hand and quickly said, "I... I wouldn't take no for an answer?"

"As simple as that?" Harold gasped, astonished that something so vitally important could come about by something so simple.

Willow shrugged, "Well sorta," she said, "I... I organised a secret meeting between Xander and Spike, cos, cos they were the ones that were gonna have to look after the Hellmouth, if Buffy agreed to come here... Um... you-you know who Spike is?" she suddenly asked.

Harold nodded, "Yes," he confirmed and added with a hint of surprise, "William the Bloody with a chip in his head."

Willow laughed out loud. She imagined Spike growling at the older man and that set her off again, knowing that the last thing the growl would have done was frighten Harold Giles. She had this whole scene going on in her head, that was getting funnier and funnier as it went on.

"Um, W-Willow?" Harold ventured, becoming alarmed.

Willow 'eeped' in response and really tried hard to control her giggles. Once accomplished, well to an occasional spurt of laughter, she eventually said, "Sorry, s'just, that was too funny."

"Quite all right, my dear," Harold replied, though secretly wondered if it truly was.

"Uh," Willow suddenly started again, "anyhow, I... I organised a secret meeting with S-Spike and Xander, told them about your tickets and about Giles and how much Buffy really *really* wanted to come but couldn't because of the Hellmouth, and how much she loved Giles and needed him, which, which got a *really* bad reaction from Xander I can tell you..." She was about to continue, but saw Harold motioning a 'time-out' signal to her. She took a deep breath and and as she exhaled, she raised an eyebrow of enquiry at him.

"At last," Harold gasped, and added with utter astonishment, "My dear Willow, I am at a loss as to how you manage such a babble without ever having to take a breath. I lost mine trying to keep up with you."

Willow blushed and muttered, "You know, Giles said the very same thing to me. Wow! You really *are* Father and Son."

Harold guffawed at her, simply lost in her charm. "Willow, my dear, you make me very happy to hear that," he eventually spluttered, "And now that you have given me a chance to decipher your... your babble, I think I also understand just what it took for you to get Buffy here in the first place." He paused a moment to gather his thoughts, to control his laughter and then added, with all the seriousness in the world, "And though I have mentioned this before, I shall say it again, with all my heart, my dear sweet Willow, I cannot thank you enough."

Willow blushed profusely and was rendered speechless by his honesty. Still, to hide her pleasure at the compliment and her lack of knowledge on how to truly respond to such a thing, she giggled a little and said, "You know, you had a pretty good babble yourself going there."

Harold chuckled a moment, before replying, "Yes, well, hand on heart, I can honestly say that no better teacher of the babble would I find than in you, my dear."

Both sounds of laughter mingled in the front living room and the sounds of chatter broke out into the courtyard, as Harold and Willow continued their friendly chat, whilst drinking tea.

# #

A cool, gentle breeze caressed his face and ruffled his hair and Giles took a deep, savouring breath of it. It soothed him, not completely, he had to admit, but enough that he could appreciate it. Such things always reminded him of Buffy, as though she had spoken to him. A whisper in his mind, that no-matter-what, it'll turn out all right in the end.

On that thought at, he could not help the anguish that rose within him. He'd fought it for so long now, that he grew tired of the conflict. He decided to accept it and then wept for something that he could never have, but desired with every fibre of his being. He embraced the pain, enveloped it in his arms, hugged it to his chest and hoped to console it.

"Giles?"

"Oh dear God," he whispered, "I'm now hearing her."

"Giles?"

Her voice called to him, more alarmed than he had previously dreamt. He heard running footsteps and turned to where they were and almost passed out with shock. "B-Buffy?" he whispered, unsure of what exactly he *was* seeing.

Buffy came to a faltering stop in front of him, beamed a smile he had missed for so very long and brightly said, "The one and only."

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