Title: An Innings and Six Wickets
Author: Kerry Blackwell
Spoilers: Futurefic, none really
Pairing: B/G
Rating: G
Distribution: On my site - http://www.whitehats.co.nz - as soon as I do the title graphics and upload it.
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were... The match where I have England beating India is totally made up and not intended to be a slur on the Indian cricket team. And to the real Ashley Giles; this is not supposed to be you, I just borrowed your name and sporting profession - hope you don't mind.

Author's Notes: This is another story that took a while to get written. I was watching England and New Zealand cricket and got the giggles each time Ashley Giles was bowling and the commentators would say "Giles does such and such...". So I decided to write a story where Ashley Giles was related to Rupert Giles. This is the result. Oh, and to any Indian readers, I'm sorry it was your team I had beaten so badly. But it had to be someone; I could bear to make it New Zealand (although we've been all out for 70 before today) and I decided the Australians were too close and could come over and beat me up if I made it them.
Thanks: To Sarah for beta reading and encouragement.

"But it's so _silly_, Grandmama," the seven your old insisted determinedly. "Why does Grandfather say those silly words?"

"And why do they always make you smile?" his twin sister asked, taking advantage of her brother's daring.

Buffy smiled exactly the smile they were talking about. "He's telling me how much he loves me," she told them, tousling her grand-daughter's blonde hair.

The twins exchanged identical, confused looks.

"Huh?" they asked together.

And Buffy laughed, remembering...

In the six months since they had married, Buffy had very quickly grown used to Rupert's solid presence beside her if she woke briefly in the night.

Which made his current absence all the more conspicuous.

Still more than half asleep, she patted at his share of the sheet, surprised to discover they were cold. She rolled over to look at the illuminated clock beside the bed. _1am_, she thought sleepily. _What's he doing up at 1am?_

Lying still, she listened. They had only arrived at Oliver and Ruth's the night before, so all the old house's creaks and groans were new and unfamiliar. After a moment, she isolated human voices coming from the living room downstairs.

She lay there a little longer, deciding if she was going to get out of the warm bed and go looking for her missing husband. He was probably catching up with his brother and sister-in-law and while he would be delighted to see her, he wouldn't mind if she just turned over and went back to sleep again either.

Buffy hadn't even known Giles _had_ a brother until they started writing the guest list for their wedding. She'd given him what-for over that, and the moment she'd met Oliver, Ruth and their son Ashley it was like they had all known each other forever. The size of her family had doubled on the spot, Dawn had developed an immediate crush on Ashley and he, being a year older than Buffy was herself, had delighted in constantly calling her _Aunty Buffy_.

She'd developed an unexpected flu a few weeks back, and despite Slayer healing doing its usual thing, she hadn't bounced back emotionally with the same speed. Since her return from the dead, she hadn't had the same emotional resilience and Giles, worried about her, had insisted on a change of scene.

So here they were, staying with Oliver and Ruth in the old Giles family home where Rupert had been born, warm and cosy and comfortable despite the English winter snow outside.

Regardless of the temptation of the comfy bed, Buffy got up, slipped on a robe and went looking for her family.

She found them all in the living room, watching Oliver's prized new possession, a large screen TV. They were so ingrossed in their viewing that no-one heard Buffy pad quietly into the room behind them, not even Rupert, who usually seemed to know exactly where she was all the time.

To Buffy, the image on the screen was incomprehensible. Men in some kind of uniform, all light blue, were standing around in a bunch on a green, grassy field; in a group of their own were three others, dressed in the same kind of uniform but black, and covered protective gear of a kind she hadn't seen before. Just then, the picture was focussed not so much on the men, but a grey and white bird that was strutting across the glass. A voice from the TV was talking about 'seagulls' and suddenly the picture shifted to an aerial view of a city with the blue of the sea at one edge of the screen.

"Auckland looking at its best..." said the television in an accent Buffy didn't recognise.

She had almost grown used to being surrounded by the large variety of English accents when she visited her husband's homeland, but this one was new. Kind of similar, but totally different at the same time.

"Show us the match, not the sights," Oliver muttered in a low voice.

Giles chuckled at his brother. "Relax. It's drinks. We could be getting adverts instead."

"Yuck," Ruth added succinctly. "Count your blessings, Ol."

"Hmmph," Oliver grumped. "I'm going to make tea. Anyone else want some?"

Receiving two affirmatives, he stood and turned for the kitchen. "Oh, hello, Buffy," he said in surprise, seeing her standing in the doorway.

She gave him a tentative smile, not sure if she was intruding on some obscure English family bonding ritual or something.

The gentle, familiar smile she received from Giles was all it took to convince her she was welcome. He scooted over on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him in a clear invitation.

"Tea, Buffy?" Oliver asked as she walked across to join her husband.

She shook her head and Ruth chuckled. "Rupert hasn't managed to convert you completely, I see? How about a hot chocolate."

"That'd be nice," Buffy agreed, sinking into the seat and curling up beside Giles. He automatically slipped an arm around her shoulders and she cuddled closer, her head resting against him.

Ruth shooed Oliver out of the room. Buffy giggled. "What are they doing, giving us some time alone?"

"I think they're giving me the privacy of being told off without an audience," Giles said ruefully.

"Why...?" Buffy began. "Oh," she said an instant later. "Yeah, why'd you abandon me in the middle of the night?" She tried to sound outraged, but being snuggled up beside Rupert made it rather difficult.

"We're watching England play New Zealand at cricket," he explained. "The match is in New Zealand, so it's on in the middle of the night here."

He looked down at her indulgently. "Don't tell me you don't know where New Zealand is."

"Umm... Australia?" Buffy hazarded hopefully.

Giles sighed. "Close," he conceded. "I'll show you on the globe in the morning."

"So cricket," Buffy said firmly, making sure he knew the subject had been changed. "Which weird British game is that?"

Giles sighed again.

Ruth, who had re-entered without them realising it, chuckled. "She _is_ American, Rupert. Give her a break." She threw some more wood on the fire, following that up with a smattering of coal. The room was already toasty warm and Buffy sighed happily.

Ruth threw her a grin as she sank back into her chair and picked up the knitting she had placed on a small table before she followed Oliver on drink-making duties. "Cricket, Buffy, is quintessentially English and totally incomprehensible to anyone not born in a cricket-playing company." Her face lit up with pride. "Ashley was selected for this tour; I remember Oliver and I spending countless weekends watching him play as a boy, and now the whole world just has to turn on their TV set and there is is."

"Right now in fact," Giles offered helpfully and Ruth's gaze snapped up to the TV screen.

The players had spread out again now; two of the men in black were standing facing each other in the centre of the field and they were surrounded by the guys in blue. Buffy remained confused.

A moment later the wide angle shot was replaced by a close up of Ashley. A bar appeared across the bottom of the screen with his name on it and a collection on incomprehensible statistics.

"Oliver!" she yelled. "Drinks are over and Ashley's bowling."

There was a muffled curse from the direction of the kitchen, followed by the sound of pounding feet as Oliver returned at a run. He made it into his seat just as Ashley started running towards the centre of the field. He tossed a white ball towards one of the black players, using the funniest arm motion Buffy had ever seen. The other player used an oddly shaped bat to stop the ball before it got past him and hit three upright sticks behind him.

"Good ball, Ashley," Oliver told the screen approvingly.

"Giles attempts a yorker, but Fleming manages to block," the commentator said informatively, not helping Buffy one little bit. "This is a young man to watch," he went on as if he was chatting with someone in his own living room.

"I quite agree, Martin," a second voice responded. "If he keeps up this kind of form, I'd say his place in the England team is assured."

"You betcha," Ruth said firmly, with much motherly pride and little regard for grammar.

Buffy looked up at _her_ Giles, her confusion written all over her face.

"Huh?" she begged hopefully.

"Cricket," he agreed, not sounding particularly confident.

"The gentleman's game," Oliver offered, not taking his eyes off the screen, where Ashley was bowling again. "Summer on the village green, the crack of leather on willow."

Buffy choked, and broke into a cascade of giggles.

Oliver looked offended. "What did I say? Damn it, Ashley, you're supposed to be aiming at the stumps, not the bloody slips," he finished, glaring at the TV.

"Sorry," Buffy gasped, trying to stop laughing. "But leather on Willow? Not a good look."

Ruth was looking at her like she'd grown a second head.

"We have a friend called Willow," Giles said quickly. "You remember her, Ruth. She was Buffy's bridesmaid."

"The redhead," Ruth said slowly. "Yes I remember. She and Dawn were your attendants."

Buffy nodded, one last giggle escaping.

"A cricket ball is made of leather," Giles explained for her. "And the bat is made from wood from a willow tree. When you get in a good shot, the sound is indeed very satisfying."

"Like that," Oliver said sourly as the batsman swung with assurance and the ball went hurtling towards the boundary.

"It's only four off the over though," Ruth said comfortingly. "Not bad at this point in the innings."

"I guess." Oliver didn't sound convinced as he went back to the kitchen to get the drinks he'd abandoned at his wife's shout.

Buffy gave Giles an imploring look.

"Oh dear," he said worriedly. "It's kind of complicated, Buffy. You see, each side has eleven players. At the moment England - we're the blue players - are fielding, so we have all our players on the field. New Zealand is batting - they're in black - so they just have two batsmen out on the ground. We try to get them all out and they try to get as many runs as possible."

Buffy frowned. "How do you get them out, if they're out already?"

Giles' forehead creased. "Sorry?"

"You said they had two players out, and you want to get them out. Aren't they already out?"

"No, they're in," Giles corrected automatically, then groaned. "It's a little complicated, love. How about I explain as we go along?"

"Okay," she agreed, desperately hoping there wasn't going to be a pop quiz on this later. She was sure she would fail miserably if there was, because none of this made any kind of sense.

Buffy wasn't feeling any the wiser when Giles wound down an explanation of 'the basics' that left some of his more detailed discourses on vampires and demons totally in the dust. She wasn't particularly worried about it though; for once the fate of the world didn't rest on how well she understood Giles and his big words.

It was a nice feeling.

She was perfectly happy to sit here beside Rupert, sip her hot chocolate and let it all wash over her. She couldn't decide if the game was restful or boring, but it didn't matter.

She never noticed when Rupert rescued the coffee mug from her loosening grip and set it safely on the table. She dozed, secure in the dual blessings of warmth and family, while the cricket match played on half a world away.

She drifted back into consciousness to the low rumbling of Giles' and Oliver's voices as the talked, occasionally joined by Ruth's lighter tones.

"...that match against India," Oliver was saying. "Can't remember the year. Got them all out for 72. Won by an innings and six wickets. _That_ was a cricket match to remember."

"No," Rupert disagreed. "That was a walk over. I'd rather watch a match where the result is in doubt right up to the final over."

"I'm a philistine," Ruth added cheerfully. "I like a one-dayer with a high score and lots of action."

Buffy opened her eyes to see Ruth rounded on by both her husband and her brother-in-law.

"Philistine," they agreed firmly, both speaking at exactly the same time and in exactly the same tone.

"Are you sure you're not twins?" Buffy asked as she levered herself into a sitting position.

Rupert smiled at her and shook his head.

Oliver laughed. "Not that we could ever get Mother to admit," he answered.

"How are you feeling, Buffy?" Ruth asked, giving her husband a squelching look.

"Sleepy," Buffy admitted.

"Why don't you go back to bed?" Rupert suggested. "I don't think cricket is exactly your thing," he added gently.

Buffy glanced at the TV, where a commercial for coffee was screening. "Is it over?"

He shook his head. "It's the lunch break." He grinned at her. "This is half way. You'll be more comfortable sleeping in bed that here on the sofa."

"Mmm," Buffy agreed, only realising a moment later that she'd just been insulted. "Are you suggesting I'll fall asleep on you?" she demanded archly.

"It's better than you falling asleep all over Oliver," he answered.

She glared, considering taking offence, but decided it was way too much effort. She gave him a wicked smile instead. "Come and tuck me in?"

Giles pretended to consider it.

Just as she was about to employ the attack-tactics of her best pout, he stood, leaned over and scooped her into his arms, all in one quick and efficient motion. "Come along, Mrs Giles. To bed with you."

He carried her upstairs, laid her in their bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, all with a tender care that gave her the shivers.

"How's that?" he asked as he said down on the bed beside her.

"Nice," she answered in a tone that had a hundred layers.

Rupert's eyes twinkled, but he shook his head. "Go back to sleep, Buffy," he said gently.

She pouted prettily and he laughed, forcing her to smile back. "Go watch your silly game, then."

"It's not silly; it's English," he insisted, deliberately stuffy.

About to stick her tongue out at him, Buffy was struck by a sudden thought. "Rupert, what's a whatever and six whatevers?"

Giles frowned, thinking back over the conversation downstairs. A moment later his face cleared as he worked out what she was talking about. "You mean an innings and six wickets?"

She nodded.

"It's..." Giles paused before launching into a long-winded explanation.

"A lot," he said instead. "A very, very, very big lot."

Buffy thought about that. "Okay," she agreed. She smiled up at him. "How much do you love me?" she asked whimsically.

Giles laughed and leaned down to kiss her briefly. "By an innings and six wickets," he promised.

Buffy smiled. "Cool," she said sleepily, and snuggled back down in the big bed.

Giles waited, just watching her, until she was sleeping again. Then he went back downstairs to watch the rest of the match.

END