Title: Surprise 2/6
Author: KrisB
Email: krisbotha@gmail.com
Rating: Mostly PG13. Ch 5 is NC-17
Pairing: B/G, of course!
Spoiler Warnings: up to middle of season 5
Summary: AU, response to ODD's Challenge #67. Giles gets a surprise.
Disclaimer: All canon characters of Buffyverse belong to the awe-inspiring Joss, ME, etc. I'm writing this for free entertainment only.

Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya helped Buffy move into Giles' old apartment, and though Giles insisted it was unnecessary, Willow made her famous guilt cookies for over a week. Buffy turned his small guest-room into a room for herself and Rupert, painting the walls a pale yellow. With that was a border paper sporting cheerful firemen riding fire trucks at thigh-height around the room. The room barely contained a dresser, her bed, the baby's crib and a changing table. The closet housed the majority of her clothes, her weapons chest, and three boxes of items that would probably never see the light of day again.

A schedule was established, and Buffy got herself some gainful employment with a temp agency, assuring Giles that the hours worked best for them all. Though the argument was lengthy, Buffy refused to move in unless she contributed to the rent. He often found her helping with the chores when she could, and she put all the money not being used for necessary expenses into a savings account.

One night, before patrol, Buffy and Giles were eating dinner at the small table he'd purchased when she moved in. Little Rupert sat in his carrier on the table, content to be rocked by Buffy as she stuffed her face with her free hand.

"It's alright to let him lay still, Buffy."

She smiled fondly at her Watcher, loving his gentle suggestions. "I know, and I know you do. I like to let him know I'm here when I'm here." She sighed around her bite of food. "Does that make any sense?"

Giles grinned. "Yes, but you shouldn't worry so. He knows when you're home, and when you're away. He's very perceptive."

"I can't believe he's already almost six months old. He's amazing, isn't he?" she asked, looking at her son in adoration.

"Rather like his mother, I'd say." This small compliment earned him a patented Buffy-1000-watt smile.

They both started at the unexpected pounding on their door.

"Who could that be?" he asked himself. He looked to Buffy. "The others never knock anymore."

Buffy shrugged and rose with him. He held his hand up, his pinky ring glinting as he pointed at the weapons chest in the corner. "Stay with Rupert."

She retrieved a dagger, two stakes and some holy water from the chest, hiding them from view in her pockets and behind the carrier. She watched the back of Giles' head as he cautiously opened the latch to see who was on the other side of the door. He slapped the flap closed and turned to her.

"It's your mother."

The pounding started again, this time startling Rupert, and the baby let loose a tiny, ear-splitting wail. Buffy rolled her eyes and unbuckled her son, pulling him from the harness and up to her shoulder. She rocked him, cooing like Willow in an effort to calm him. Giles was opening the door just as the phone started to ring, so Buffy picked it up, holding it to her other shoulder with her head.

"Hello?" she demanded irritably, trying to hear what her mother was saying to Giles over the baby's cries.

"Buffy, your mom just –"

"She's here," Buffy said, cutting Willow off.

"I'm so sorry, Buff. She was just so... mom-like. A-and you know I could never stand up to her –"

Buffy sighed and started rubbing Rupert's back in an attempt to silence him. "It's alright. I gotta go, Will."

"Is Rupert alright?"

"He was just scared by Mom's half-crazed pounding on the door," Buffy muttered.

"Oh! When he's scared, he likes to have his tummy rubbed."

Buffy stopped all movement and stared at the phone. Turning her sobbing son in her arms, she softly rubbed his stomach in small circles, rocking him and clucking. Rupert quieted almost instantly and his tiny fist flew to his face, his mouth latching onto his thumb.

"Aunt Willow, you've just earned a few Get Out of Jail Free cards," Buffy joked. Willow's responding laughter was pinched, but relieved.

"Lucky me. Call me."

"I will." The girls hung up and Buffy turned to find her mother and Watcher staring at her in awe.

"What did you do?" Giles asked, stepping forward to look down at the drowsing child. "He never quiets so quickly for me."

Buffy grinned. "Aunt Willow found out that if he's spooked he likes a good tummy-rub. Who knew?"

"Apparently Aunt Willow," Giles remarked, smoothing his fingers over the downy hairs of Rupert's head. "Well done, Buffy."

"I didn't do anything."

"He stopped crying," Giles retorted.

"I knew it!" Joyce said, interrupting the moment. She hugged her arms around herself, tugging her sweater and scowling at them both.

"And what precisely is it that you knew, Joyce?" Giles didn't realize that he'd rotated and now stood before Buffy, blocking Joyce's view of her daughter and grandson. His own arms crossed across his broad chest as he glared at the woman.

"He's yours," Joyce accused. "Why else would she name her son after you?" She mimicked his position, glowering right back at him. Ah, so that's where Buffy got her glare. "How could you do that to my daughter? You were trusted. She was your responsibility."

Buffy rolled her eyes and stepped around Giles, handing him the baby before he could voice any objections to her involvement.

"Mom, Giles didn't do anything." She stopped and blinked. "Well, except let me move in and offer to help take care of another man's baby while I'm out working and keeping the world from ending." She looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Which is way more than nothing!"

"You need a home, Buffy. You both do."

"You expect me to believe –"

"Oh, just stop!" Buffy whirled, her short hair bouncing. "What, you can't handle that Riley left me pregnant, so you have to blame Giles for one more thing? One more piece of badness in Buffy's life that's all his fault?" Buffy waved her arms, but her voice never rose in volume.

"I'm done with your accusations and your – your eagerness to keep me out of your life! Giles is the only person I can trust and count on. And you know what? I didn't have to sleep with him to get that. He gave it to me for free from day one."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Whether you want to accept it or not, I had sex. I used birth control that didn't work. More than likely because I'm the Slayer." She looked over her shoulder, and her face morphed into a sweet, passionate expression Giles had never seen on anyone before. Her voice had lowered to a tone she reserved just for Rupert. An audible caress that perked the lad's ears and had him wriggling in his benefactor's arms.

"I never thought I'd get to have a baby. I mean, most Slayers don't live long enough to even try, let alone watch them grow up. And yeah, it sucks that the person who helped make him bailed and died..." she turned and looked her stunned mother in the eye. "But the only way I'll give up Rupert or Giles is if I'm dead."

She turned, looking at her Watcher as she finished. "Giles loves him because he's my son. Not because he's his. He takes care of me. He always has."

"Buffy –"

"No. We're done now," Buffy said, her jaw set as she faced Joyce.

"C-can I see him?" Joyce asked, trying to get a look at the bundle in Giles' arms. Buffy's face hardened even more.

"No. Maybe later, when we're not fighting. Right now you need to leave."

Giles was torn between complete pride and the need to chastise his Slayer. He'd never heard her speak to her mother that way before.

Joyce shrank under the force of Buffy's version of the infamous Ripper glare. "You need to go figure out what you want. And you need to figure out how you feel about me and Giles. If you can't accept that he's in my life, then you'll never accept me, and there's no point in letting you get to know Rupert."

Joyce, devastated and heartbroken, slowly turned and left the apartment, not even bothering to close the door behind herself.

"Well that was certainly... dramatic." Rupert made an odd little grunting noise as his fingers tugged on Giles'.

Buffy rolled her eyes up at Giles as she faced him. "That's all you have to say?"

"What would you like me to say, Buffy? Thank you for defending my honor? Bravo at standing up to your mother?"

Buffy grinned. "All of the above, Word Guy." She cupped her arms and looked up expectantly. When he bent forward to transfer the child to her, she craned her neck and kissed Giles on his cheek. He straightened and looked down at her, startled and smiling like a fool.

"What was that for?"

"For being you." She waited until he returned to his chair at the table to add, "For being the kind of man worth naming my son after."

He nearly dropped his mug of tea, but settled for sloshing it down his chin, the lukewarm liquid dripping onto his shirt.

Bloody typical.

*******

Joyce kept to herself for a month before she phoned them. Buffy'd already resigned to Rupert never having a grandmother, so she was somewhat relieved when Giles answered the phone and greeted her mother. She left Rupert on the floor where she'd been playing with him to stand next to Giles, her brows lifted as he listened patiently.

"I'll ask her," he said into the mouthpiece, then moved it from his head, covering the device to address Buffy. "She feels enough time has passed to attempt reconciliation. She also proposes we meet in a public setting."

She blinked at him a moment, then grinned. "She wants to make up?" Giles chuckled and nodded. "Sure. Tell her we'll be at the Pump in an hour."

Giles shook his head at her retreating back. Joyce was a lucky woman. Hank Summers, a lucky man. That her parents could do so much to her, and she still forgave them so easily. He hadn't spoken with his father in more than twenty years. Well, he'd endured the old buzzard's contempt when he'd graduated from university, and ten years later when he graduated Watcher's training. Not to mention the very noticeable lack of any kind of praise for his accomplishment with the British Museum. The final straw, however: voting against his own son for assignation to the active Slayer nearly five years ago. It was a wonder he was sent at all, with his own father against him.

"Hello? Mister Giles?" Joyce's voice was small, but it broke his reverie nonetheless. He pulled the phone back up.

"Yes... Joyce? Is the Espresso Pump amenable? In an hour?" He grinned at Joyce's quick agreement. "Goodbye." He gently replaced the phone to its cradle and turned, watching as Buffy bounced her son in the air, talking up to him without a hint of Willow's baby-talk.

"You get to meet Grandma today! Won't that be nice?" She pushed him up above her head, wiggling him, much to Rupert's delight. "Yes it is!" She lowered him to her chest, tracing his upturned face with one finger. "Now, I know you'll be on your best behavior, but just in case you get any funny ideas, remember who you're supposed to be like, little guy. I didn't name you Rupert to get a giggle from the nurses, you know."

Giles' breath caught in his throat. She was so sincere about his name. So insistent that she thought him worthy. He still doubted it... He was dumbfounded that she thought so much of him.

And yet. He watched silently as she leaned down, brushing soft lips on her son's softer forehead. So tender and gentle. It had the power to amaze him – a man who had seen much. She was a girl of contrasts that would forever be a miracle.

The power to kill him in mere seconds, with the gentle touch of a mother.

The duty to rid the world of untold evil, yet she held a job as a temporary office worker.

A college drop-out who'd received nearly perfect scores on her SATs.

And that unfailing forgiveness of so many. Her parents. Angel, Faith. Himself.

Her hand waved in his face the same instant her voice penetrated his daze. "Hello, Earth to Giles! Giles?" She cocked her head to the side when he took a startled step back. "You okay?" At his hesitant nod she indicated her room with a twitch of her blonde head. "Come help me pick out an outfit."

"Oh, no thank you, Buffy. I'm not –"

"Giles." He stopped, waiting. "I know you aren't the most casual of guys, but one thing you do know how to do is dress well when you put your mind to it." She turned and walked towards the hallway, assuming he was following her – which he was, though without comment. "I mean, I've seen your suits. And that tux! Giles, you are so lucky you didn't chaperone the Prom the year before."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, stopping in her bedroom doorway and watching as she lowered Rupert into his crib.

"Giles, the girls were totally crushing on you."

"Am I to take it that you don't mean literally?"

She giggled, tugging buttons free as she disrobed her son from his onesie. "No, I mean that we almost needed one of those parade workers to follow you to keep the place from drowning in drool."

Giles snorted and rolled his eyes, emulating Buffy as he crossed his arms. "You don't have to ply me with compliments, Buffy. I was ready to agree before you mentioned my prior formal wear."

Buffy stopped and turned, her eyes wide. "You don't believe me?" she asked. He squirmed under her gaze, but shook his head. Nothing but the truth. He'd promised.

Buffy stared at him a moment, then, turning from him, she vanished into her closet. She rifled through it until she pulled out a box from the back. She tugged it out and quickly flipped open the flaps, digging through the contents.

"Buffy, what on earth –"

"Just a minute." Her head bent lower as her elbows disappeared into the box. "I know it's in here." She laughed in triumph and stood, her high school senior year book held aloft. She flipped open the cover and turned it to him, pointing at various scribbles written there.

"Good luck with the Librarian – so hott!"

"Tell your "friend" he needs to wear a tux all the time!"

"I would've gone to the library way more if I knew what you were hiding in there."

The commentary grew increasingly worse, written throughout the blank spaces in his Slayer's year book, rife with lewd innuendo. His breathing heavy, he closed it and stared at the front.

"Who wrote these?" he asked.

"Oh, different people. You know, you walk down the hall and someone you had one class with stops you and asks to swap signatures." She was digging in her bureau drawers now, looking for something for Rupert to wear. "You can't just say `no thanks, I don't know you or like you', you know?" She made a clicking noise of disappointment and shoved the drawer shut. "Damn it."

He placed the year book on top of the box and stepped to her side. Opening the third drawer down, he pulled out an outfit he'd purchased himself over the weekend. A tiny set of khaki pants with a white shirt and a navy and khaki vest. Out of the top drawer he pulled a little pair of white socks and dark brown dress shoes.

"Ooh, Giles!" she crowed, pulling the clothes from his grasp. "It's adorable! Where'd you find it?" She turned her back to him and quickly checked Rupert's diaper before beginning her task of redressing Rupert.

"At the men's store when I picked up my shoes."

"I didn't even know they had clothes for the little guy in there. Thank you so much..." she trailed off as her eyes swept up her son's form. She turned and grabbed Giles' hand, pulling him towards the crib excitedly. "Come look! He's so handsome!"

Giles gave in to her tugging and peeked over the edge of the crib. There Rupert lay, waving one little fist while the other was being suckled with enthusiasm. His clothes were only slightly too big for him, but he did indeed look sharp.

"He's going to be a heartbreaker," Giles murmured, his hand coming to rest by Buffy's on the crib guardrail. She moved closer, her hand closing over his.

"He'd better not." Then she chuckled, looking up at him with teasing eyes. "But I did name him after you, so it's a possibility."

He wasn't sure how to take that and decided to keep his mouth shut.

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