Title: Taking England 1/4
Author: JBG

Timeline: After 'Chosen' - post Season 7
Premise: Buffy and Dawn's first glimpse of the land of Giles' birth.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination (and the characters I made up.) Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and/or a bunch of other people own everything else in the Buffyverse...
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: I don't know anything about London, but several of the places mentioned in this story were derived from actual businesses and hotels. Forgive me if I scramble their names and locations a bit!
Harrod's, of course, remains sacrosanct.
Many thanks to my friend and beta, Dword, for her encouragement. Okay... harassment, but in the very nicest of ways. Keep it up, dear. ;o)

"Dawn... wake up. We're here."

The teenager's face wrinkled, and she snuggled further into her blanket.

"Dawnie! Wake up." Snuffling noises emerged from Dawn's direction.

Buffy craned her neck to look at Giles for help. He raised his eyebrows and grinned. She pointed at Dawn. He shook his head with a 'not me!' expression.

"C'mon, Giles, she always listens to you better."

Giles really didn't want to wake Dawn. He was completely content where he was. Twenty something hours in a plane afforded plenty of time to experiment with comfy positions. The armrest was moved from between them, the seats were reclined, his Slayer had her head against his chest and his arm was curled around her.

Dawn was sprawled all over the place in her attempt to sleep away the long, boring trip. She had wakened to eat and use the bathroom and then retreated back into her little pillow. At the moment, one of her long, slender legs was across Buffy's lap.

"She'll miss the view," Buffy warned.

"Um hm."

"She won't be able to sleep tonight, y'know. She slept the whole trip."

Giles sighed. He unwrapped his arm from around Buffy and leaned across her to tap the Plexiglas window covering next to Dawn's head.

"Huh? What? Where are we?" Dawn mumbled, sitting up slightly. Giles gave Buffy a triumphant look, and she made a face back.

"Coming into London," Giles informed Dawn, pointing out at the sprawling city below.

"Oh... oh, how cool!" she squeaked, leaning forward for a better view.

"Is that really, totally cool, or absolutely mega-chill?" Buffy teased. The seatbelt sign flashing interrupted her, and they all adjusted their seats and lap belts accordingly. Giles mourned the loss of Buffy's body resting against his, but conceded that the airline had rules against close cuddling during landings.

"I think this is a whole new level of coolness," Dawn decided.

"True."

"It's beyond mega-chill. It's like, a new dimension. There should be a word for it."

"We may have to make one up," Buffy offered seriously.

Dawn nodded with equal gravity, and Giles giggled. Sometimes they were both so... American. Both girls turned to look at him. "What?" they both said in unison.

"Nothing at all, ladies. Nothing at all."

Dawn put her hand on the window as if she could touch the approaching land. "Are you glad to be home, Giles? Were you ever homesick while you were in Sunnydale?"

Her innocent question caught him by surprise. He had to think... was he ever homesick? Or was his life so completely taken up with his Slayer that he hadn't given home a second thought?

"It wasn't supposed to be a stumper, Giles," Dawn remarked with a concerned look.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Too many memories competing for attention."

Buffy took his hand gently and gave it a squeeze. "I know how that feels. Let's just say we're carrying home with us this time, and let it go at that."

His wistful look changed to a grin of genuine pleasure. "What a wonderful way to put things into perspective, love." He leaned over to give her a kiss, but a sudden bump and bounce caused her to pull away with a girlish squeal.

"We're here! We're actually in England!"

********

"How are we actually getting *to* London?" Buffy queried as she hefted the lion's share of their luggage, which was quite a lot. She had a full-sized suitcase in each hand, a garment bag slung over each shoulder, and a king-sized duffel bag under one arm. Dawn was pulling two rolling suitcases, carrying one soft-side bag on her shoulder, and had her duffel under the opposite arm. Giles, having packed for a short visit, had a garment bag, a travel bag, and one suitcase of his own. He was pulling Buffy's gigantic rolling trunk that seemed to be capable of doubling as a sleeper sofa.

The girls followed Giles as he turned and headed down the hallway. "There are porters that can help us with our luggage," Giles offered, eyeing the excess baggage the girls were carrying.

"Nah, It's okay, we got it," Buffy dismissed the idea with a shrug.

Dawn glared at her... she thought a porter was a pretty good idea. She started following Giles, but realized he was heading away from the front doors. "Hey, where're we going?" Dawn chirped, mindful of the weight of her bags.

"If we're to get to London, we must take the Express."

"What's the Express?" Buffy asked.

Dawn snorted. "Who cares? If it means I don't have to lug this junk all the way there... Lead on, McGiles," she orated dramatically. "I'd make a sweeping gesture, but my hands are full."

Giles gave Dawn a wide grin. "Points to you for the literary reference," he said proudly.

"Go, me."

"You want a literary reference? Is that what it takes to impress you?" Buffy teased as they came up to the Heathrow Express counter. "You're so easy."

"I'll have you know I am not easy. Nor am I cheap."

Dawn guffawed, and Giles gave her a stern look. Her laughter subsided... for the moment, but she continued to grin. The young ticket agent at the counter openly ogled the two lovely young ladies, ignoring Giles completely. Giles sighed and tapped the counter. "Three for Paddington Station, please. First class."

"Is that in London?" Dawn chirped.

"First Class?" Buffy echoed happily.

"Yes," Giles answered both of them with one word. The agent didn't respond until Giles cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look. As the boy started guiltily, Giles dug out a few bills and handed them over. "Sorry I don't have anything smaller. I've been traveling."

"Quite all right, sir," the agent replied smartly as he handed over the change. "I don't mind." His eyes wandered back to Buffy, and Giles' forehead furrowed in displeasure.

"Hey, Giles, we didn't change our money," Dawn realized with some concern.

"Not to worry, we'll do our banking tomorrow."

"Giles, we have money, even if it is American at the moment. We don't expect you to pay for everything," Buffy warned.

"That's what expense accounts are for, love," Giles assured her.

"Really? You have an expense account? And we're an expense?" Buffy's eyes grew wide. Both girls focused on Giles, missing the fact that the ticket agent was equally fascinated with the conversation.

"You're more likely a luxury, love, but yes. Now, don't worry about cost, all right? We'll settle everything once we're home."

"Home," Buffy breathed wistfully. "I like the sound of that."

Giles smiled fondly and turned back to the agent, raising an eyebrow when the young man's attention remained on Buffy and Dawn for a few seconds too long. The agent cleared his throat and passed Giles the tickets. "'Ave a good trip, sir," he said carefully, and watched as the three of them headed for the embarkation platform. Unbidden, Buffy slid next to Giles and put her arm around his waist, lifting his arm around her shoulders. As he looked down at her, surprised, Dawn mimicked her sister and commandeered his other side. The ticket agent's gaze drifted downward to the two perfectly formed female derrieres as they passed, but he turned away swiftly as Giles' glare caught him through the glass.

"Cor... two of 'em. Lucky sod," he murmured, shaking his head.

********

"That was cool, especially the tunnel part," Dawn enthused as they entered Paddington Station. "I've never been on a train before."

With a look, Giles called over a porter to transport their luggage. As the man was loading his cart, Buffy looked up at Giles. "You're really going all out."

"I would've taken care of the luggage at the airport, but you lot beat me to the punch."

"I didn't want anyone stealing my suitcase," Buffy said with a slight pout.

"It's okay to be a little cautious," Giles said soothingly.

Buffy gave a quick laugh. "Yeah, that's me, Caution Girl. But I guess if Giles gets his jollies from throwing a little money around, who am I to argue?"

"You're so right," Dawn agreed thankfully, and handed her last two bags to the porter. "Okay, Giles, now where?"

He held out his arm, indicating that the girls should precede him. They followed the bustling porter to the entrance and waited as several cars pulled up to the curb. There were all sizes and shapes of cars, many of which Buffy and Dawn had never seen before. Dawn was about to voice her impatience when a long, silver and gray vintage-looking car pulled in front of them. The driver immediately jumped out and greeted Giles.

Two female jaws dropped as they recognized the 'flying lady' hood ornament. "Oh, my God, Buffy! It's a Rolls!" Dawn shrieked, jumping up and down.

"A 1967 Rolls Royce Phantom V limousine," Giles corrected mildly, then turned back to converse with the driver again.

"Giles, this is too much," Buffy protested despite her delight. She'd never been in a Rolls Royce limo before. She'd only been in a limo once, and that was an accident. Something about all this was bothering her.

Giles looked at her, slightly bewildered. "This is a staff car. The Council have several."

Suddenly, in Buffy's mind, the words 'richest person on earth' and 'Giles' slammed together. Her eyes glazed over and she fell silent. Dawn grabbed her arm and ushered her towards the door, which was now being held open by the smiling driver.

"She's not usually this catatonic," Dawn apologized, nudging her sister further into the car. "I think the whole 'filthy rich' thing just now soaked in."

Giles gave Dawn a sympathetic grin. With another quick word to the driver, he slid in beside Buffy, taking one of her hands in his. She rubbed a hand over the incredibly soft leather seats, and then turned her stricken eyes towards him. He smiled comfortingly. In front of them, a cooler with a classy looking bottle was framed by four sparkling clean glasses. Buffy stared at them, focusing on the bright points of light formed by light reflecting off the crystal.

The Rolls pulled quietly away from the curb, the sounds from passing traffic effectively muffled by the protective interior of the car.

"Champagne?" Giles said softly, noticing where her attention was placed. He applied the pearl-handled corkscrew to the top of the bottle. As it began to give, he swiftly dropped a heavy white cloth over the pressurized contents. The 'pop' sounded deafening in the enclosed space, and the cork harmlessly remained trapped in the soft cotton. He held up the gently smoking bottle again and gave Buffy a quizzical look.

Buffy's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Finally, she pressed her lips together and nodded.

"I'm sixteen, Giles," Dawn reminded happily, holding out her glass. "You told me the legal drinking age in England is sixteen."

"For beer, yes, with a meal. Not for champagne." Dawn's pout returned in full force. Giles ignored her and continued in his best lecture voice, "However, in the presence of a parent or guardian, alcohol can be consumed in private as early as age five."

Dawn's face brightened. Giles carefully poured her a small amount, ignoring her protest. Buffy finally looked up at him, her eyes still dazed. He poured her glass and then served himself. He leaned back and took a determining sip, savoring the flavor before swallowing.

"Ah, excellent. Old Travers certainly knew his wine."

Buffy's mind clicked, and she suddenly shouted, "Ah HAH!", startling both her companions. She gave Giles an accusing glare. "I thought you bought all this for us. I thought you were trying to impress me... us. I thought you were showing off. But you didn't... weren't... aren't. Right?"

Giles smiled sadly. "I didn't think I could fool you for long, love."

"What do you mean?" Dawn was completely confused.

Buffy turned to her sister. "This is how the Head Honcho Watchers lived while we were busting our butts on the Hellmouth," she explained. "Giles has been trying to tell us that all along, but it wasn't soaking in." She frowned, looking at her glass. "This isn't right, Giles. Watcher guys shouldn't live like this while their Slayers flip hamburgers in California. They were skimming their fat salaries right off the top while I wondered where our next meal was coming from.

"They could have paid me a salary from the start, or as soon as Mom died, but they didn't. They didn't even care. They should have been making the Slayer's life easier. Instead, they made it harder. Look at Faith... she was left without a dime when her Watcher died, and maybe she wouldn't have been such a psycho if she had thought someone cared. This isn't right!"

"Well said, love. My sentiments exactly. I'm counting on you to help me set things right." Giles held up his glass. "However... as decadent it may seem, it would be a shame to waste good champagne. I believe a toast seems in order... here's to the new Royal Council of Watchers. May it never again forget its purpose."

"There are definitely going to be some changes made," Buffy stated firmly. The clink of glasses echoed in the small compartment. The three of them sipped.

After a few seconds, Dawn's face turned an interesting shade of red. "Bleeaauuch," she complained. "I thought champagne was supposed to taste *good*."

As Giles and Buffy both burst out laughing, the driver smiled. It had been a long time since laughter had been heard in the back of *this* vehicle.

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