Title: The Real Loneliness 3/12
Author: K.V. Wylie
Pairing: Giles/Cordelia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sequel to Controlled Descent
Disclaimer: Permission to use these characters relating to BtVS & AtS, has not been given. Joss, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB & Mutant Enemy own TM and copyrighted them. This is purely for fun, and no copyright infringement is intended

Willow cradled the phone against her shoulder and she turned to look out at the ocean.  "Buffy and Xander are out having a swim.  Actually, she's trying to get Xander to go in the water."  After a pause, she said, "Well, we started singing the theme to Jaws and then….."  She paused again.  "It's a movie, Wesley."

She turned back around and resumed making tea.  "I got a call from Oz this morning!  Thanks for giving him this number.  I couldn't reach him to tell him where I was."  She got a container of milk from the fridge, dragging the phone cord behind her.  "Buffy's doing a lot better.  I haven't seen her brooding once.  We went to all these parties on the beach yesterday, or maybe it was just one long party.  There were barbecues and cd players and patio furniture all over, and everyone just doing whatever."  She caught herself.  "I mean, not *whatever*.  Not *those* whatevers.  Like, the women who rented the cabin beside us had a laptop and they were playing scrabble on line with someone in Spain.  They invited me to play and it was so cool!  And today we're going to take a bike ride and have a picnic lunch."

Willow stirred her tea, took a sip, and asked, "Did you talk to that person you said you were going to call for Giles?  Who is he?"  She stopped in surprise.  "Rabbi Mendi?  And he said what?  Oh no!  Giles isn't home.  He's here, in Long Beach somewhere!  You didn't know?"  She felt some sand under her feet and sat down in order to brush it off.  "I'm sorry, Wesley.  I thought you knew.  Buffy told me but she doesn't know where Giles is here.  He and," she hesitated.  "He and Cordelia are vacationing together, apparently, but we haven't seen them.  I hope this doesn't sound mean but I'm hoping we don't.  Buffy and Cordelia don't get along very well and they always put Giles in the middle."  Reluctantly, she continued, "Unless you want us to look for them."

A moment later, an expression of relief went across her face.  "Good because Giles hasn't had a holiday in, um, ever since I've known him, except I think he went camping once, but that was only for a day or two.  So, I'll talk to you tomorrow."  Willow went to say goodbye but stopped and added self-consciously, "Would you call me Willow?"  She fidgeted for a moment.  "I call you Wesley.  You don't have to call me Miss Rosenberg."

An astonished smile crossed her features.  "Oh!  Um, thank you."

She hung up the phone and said softly, "Because you are a lady and it is the proper form of address….."

Though still startled, Willow found herself smiling again as she picked up her tea.

---

Giles sat down on a shaded bench and stretched his legs before him.  This park called to him and he looked around, enjoying the peace.

Most of Long Beach was, aptly, beach, and condominiums and overpriced shops.  Exceedingly trendy.  But this park, an anomaly of sorts, had trees, almost enough to make it woodsy.  It was cool here, green, and the particular bench he was on faced a little stone bridge with archways that gave the illusion of a stream running under it.  There wasn't one - he'd passed by earlier on his way to the store - but he could forget that oversight from this vantage point.

He glanced down at the paper bag in his hands, realized the name of the store was prominently displayed, and turned the bag around.  He'd had to ask for paper.  The plastic was distressingly revealing of contents.

'These Americans,' he grumbled to himself.  'So damn casual.'  Asking for paper had extended the transaction time.  People waiting behind him.  A cashier in front probably wondering why a man his age was buying a home pregnancy test.  There had already been the discomfort of time spent in the aisle amidst a profusion of feminine products as he tried to ascertain which test to purchase.

A gaggle of high-pitched voices sounded behind him, and he peered back to find a barely-cohesive band of small children being herded by several women.  Their destination was probably a swing set and roundabout which he'd noticed earlier just beyond the bridge.  As they straggled past, Giles dropped his gaze, but not quickly enough to miss the last woman in the group.  She plodded past with one hand on her back supporting the obvious and abundant pregnancy in the front.

The teeming noise of the children knifed through him.  As it wasn't a fast-moving band, the noise dragged on, and he swung around the end of the bench to put his back to them.  When that didn't help, he got up and moved to another bench some distance on.

He faced a bicycle path here.  A tandem went by, a few lazy cyclists, and then, as if to plague him, a second pregnant woman appeared, pulling a toddler in a wagon behind her.

Bicycle tires crunched the gravel behind him and he closed his eyes, waiting for them to go past.

They didn't.  Then a voice sounded that he couldn't have foreseen hearing in this place.  He opened his eyes to make sure he was still in the park, and found Buffy in front of him, just coming down off her bike.

'No, no, no,' he thought as he forced a neutral expression on his face.  Behind Buffy, Willow pulled to a stop and, a beat later, Xander.

'Damn,' he added and the neutral look dropped perceptibly as he edged an arm overtop of his bag.

Buffy looked troubled.  She opened her mouth, closed it, and opted for a long breath.  Willow looked incredibly uncomfortable, her gaze twisting between Buffy, the path, the trees - anywhere but him.  And Xander looked…..Giles didn't quite know.  He'd never been able to figure out Xander.

Buffy checked around them quickly, the scan she usually reserved for her patrols, and he knew she was looking for Cordelia.

Which ticked him off.

In a strange tone, Buffy said, "Khaki, running shoes, and are those actually bare forearms?  You really morph to your surroundings, or else someone took you shopping."

Giles meant to say, 'Why the bloody hell are you following me?'  What came out was, "It's a rather long bicycle trip from Sunnydale."

In a terribly low voice, Willow said, "My parents' friends own a cottage."

A moment later, carefully, Buffy said, "You look, uh, better, Giles.  Maybe going on a holiday was…..well…..so, where's Cordelia?"

"Making lunch.  I had an errand to run."

"She's actually cooking?" Xander asked.  "Beyond toast?  And you're actually going to eat it?"

Anger clipped his tone.  "Yes, she's cooking.  She's a very good cook.  Yes, I'm going to eat it.  Goodbye."  Giles got up, turned his back to them, and left at such a brisk pace that even Willow looked up warily.

Xander recovered first.  "New safety rule.  Insulting Cordelia in front of Giles is not a good idea."

Willow said, "Xander, they *are* seeing each other."

"Day and night," he muttered.

"We're going to have to get used to it.  Giles is very protective."

"He's in extreme overprotective mode though," Buffy mused.  "But I'm ok with Giles being with someone."  She noticed their looks and emphasized, "Well, I'm trying to be, but why *that*…..why Cordelia?  I can't figure out if she likes him or if she's just rubbing it in my face."

"For two months?" Willow questioned.  "Besides, it's Giles' deal, not ours."

"Her timing sucks," Buffy said.  "She's taken him away from me when he's not well."

"Giles deserves time on a beach with…..with someone," Willow said.  "Maybe it's what he needs right now."

"Spoken by the We-Hate-Cordelia Club President," Xander said.

"You were the president.  I was the treasurer, a title I had to give up when you started seeing her," Willow said, irritated now herself.

"Sorry, Will," Buffy said.  "Ok, let's put it to the vote.  Giles and Cordy are a non-subject for the rest of the week."  She put up her hand.  Willow's hand went up swiftly.  The two of them glanced at Xander.

"I voted long before we left," he said as he raised his hand.

"Let's go find a place on the beach to eat lunch," Buffy suggested.

As Xander got on his bike, he chimed in, "Near girls."

"Xander," Buffy started.

"Near lots of girls.  In bikinis."  As they continued down the path, he asked, "Do you think there's a topless beach nearby?"

---

Cordelia looked up from the test stick, but her gaze went away from him, to some point at the side.  Giles could only see her cheek and a shadow under her eye, her guarded expression revealing nothing whatsoever.

He glanced at the stick once more, checked the instructions to confirm the results, then put a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.  He heard her get up, an abrupt movement taking her out the door and down the steps to the beach, and glanced in her wake to see that she had stilled at a point near the water, her back to the cabin.

He cleared the test away, putting all of the pieces into a bag and pushing it to the bottom of the garbage bin.  When he returned to the living room, he saw she was still in the same spot.

Something in the way she stood, the set of her shoulders or the stiff line of her back perhaps, stopped him from calling her.  He returned to his chair and sat down wearily.

His perception of time disappeared.  It could have been either a long time, or a few hollow minutes later, when he heard, "Rupert, roll up your pant legs and come out on the sand with me."

Giles looked up and, after seeing her smile through the open patio doors, did so.  Cordelia leaned her back against him as he put his arms around her.

"It's going to rain," she murmured.  It was gray across the water and white foam rode the waves.  "There were some surfers out there but they gave up."

"I like the rain."

"Does it rain a lot in England or is that just one of those urban myths?"

He rested the side of his face against her hair.  "Someday, I'll take you there and you can find out for yourself."

"Let's go for a walk before it hits."  She took his hand and led him along the beach.  "I'm going to get you in water above your knees before we leave here," she warned.

"Actually, I like to swim."

"You do?  I didn't know that."  Dark eyes dancing, she flashed him a smile which rushed through his chest.  "I know you like to walk.  We must have covered Sunnydale twice over in the last month."

"What do you like to do?"

"Hiking.  My father took me to Los Balmas once and we went up a mountain."  Cordelia shrugged.  "It wasn't much of a mountain, I suppose, but it seemed big when I was six."  She stopped to pick up a shell.  "I like skiing.  What are you like on skis?"

"I've never been."

"Another challenge."  She paused when cool salty air blew by them.  "I like those ancient dusty books of yours too."

"I noticed.  Could I please prevail upon you to replace them right side up on the shelf?"

"Maybe.  What's my incentive?"

"My unending devotion."  Giles let go of her hand to walk farther out into the water.  The waves were churning up, reminding him of the ocean off the coast of Newquay.  They soaked his trousers as they smashed by.

After a few moments, he looked back to see Cordelia eyeing him curiously.  "Cor?"

She shrugged.  "You don't look like a librarian any more."

"I don't know that I ever truly was one though I did manage to learn the Dewey Decimal System, just in time to find that it was outdated."  Giles waited a little longer before persisting softly, "And?"

"I'll be able to go to university if you take the lion's share of staying home with our baby.  If you live, that is."

"Of course you're going to continue your education.  I'm not going to take that away from you."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow.  "Which means you plan to live for a while longer, Rupert?"

Her cool tone didn't fool him, though he wished she'd stop using it.  He also realized, in that moment, that she'd recovered quite adeptly and was already starting to work out plans.

Then something else hit him.  He smiled and repeated, "*Our* baby."

"And don't think you're ducking out on me."

"By dying?  I wasn't considering that option."

"Dying.  Leaving.  I have no idea what's going through your head lately."

Giles went back to her and took hold of her arms.  "There's two of us in on this.  It's not you on your own.  Let your guard down for two seconds and talk to me."

She hesitated until he was nearly at the end of his rope.  At length, quietly, she said, "I have no idea what it is you want."

A quick relieved smile went across his face.  Cordelia frowned.  "Rupert?"

He kissed her, then drew back to look in her eyes.  "What do I want?  Over the past two months, I've come to the conclusion that it's you."

She took his hand and led him back towards the cabin.  "Tell you what.  Let's get dressed up, have dinner at a nice restaurant, and afterwards, if I believe your intentions are sincere, I'll let you go all the way."

"As long as you promise, if you have any more momentous announcements, Cor, you say them *well* beforehand."

"I said I was sorry for this morning."

Giles glanced at her.  "No, you didn't."

She grinned.  "No, I didn't, did I?  Hurry up, Rupert.  It's starting to rain."

---

Xander peered out the window.  "Boy, it's really coming down."  He watched walls of downpour pelt the water, travelling over the surface like moving shadows, before saying, "Figures.  The first heavy rain we've had in two months happens during the week we spend at the beach."

"Willow's out in it," Buffy said gloomily.

Xander pulled back.  "What?  I thought she was upstairs."

"She said she wanted to zip to the store."

He caught the worried tone in her voice and said, "The worst that'll happen is that Will gets soaked.  Remember, summer is a holiday for the nasties too, and it's still technically day."  He picked up the cards Buffy had dealt to him.  "Maybe she met a guy and he's taken her for ice cream."

"She's a one-guy girl," Buffy said.  "Any sevens?"

"Go fish," Xander said.  "And you can stop with that.  I'm not in on the girl talk, but I know Will.  Something's happened between her and Oz because he left all of a sudden and Willow's been in a funk.  Any threes?"

"Fish," Buffy replied.  "She and Oz are working that out.  She was on the phone with him for a long time yesterday.  Sixes?"

Xander handed her a card.  "She was also on the phone with someone else yesterday *and* today.  She hung up real fast when I came in and said it was a wrong number, but wrong numbers don't usually make her blush."

"Really?  Our Willow?" Buffy asked curiously.  "Kings?"

Xander sighed heavily as he gave up another card, and raised the remaining ones to a lamp.  "Can you see through these?"

"Slayer sense."

"If it extends into card games, we should head to Las Vegas," he grumbled.

"Tens."

"Ha!  Go fish, Slayer!"

Buffy took a card from the deck.  "If she's been on the phone with someone around here, she must have met him awfully quick."

"If it was someone around here, she wouldn't need to talk to him on the phone.  They could just meet," Xander commented, then glanced up to see Buffy eyeing him.  "Sometimes I get a bright flash," he added.  "Fours?"

"Go fish," she said thoughtfully.  "Must be someone from Sunnydale."

"And you have no idea who it is," Xander said suspiciously.

"She hasn't said a thing to me," Buffy said.  "Honest."  A wide smile hit her mouth.  "Wow!  I wonder who he is."

"When Willow comes back, I could conveniently disappear and you could have another girl talk."

"You want me to pump her for information?"

"Yes," Xander said without hesitation.  "Whose turn is it?"

"Mine.  Any threes?"  At his look, she added mischievously, "I just picked one up."

"I'll give you the card if you promise to do the third degree."

"I can't believe you want me to do that to our best friend."

Xander held the card just out of reach.  "Do you want the three or not?"

"Fine, I'll do it," Buffy said, "but I can't see who'd be in the running."

"The dark horse candidate," he said as he handed her the three.

"We have no horses, dark or otherwise.  Sevens?"

Xander paused before handing her the card, then watched dolefully as she laid the last pair on the table and said, "I win!"

"They're marked, aren't they?"

Buffy pushed the cards towards him with a smirk.  "Your turn to deal."  As she leaned back in her chair, she mused, "There was that guy she was helping with his history."

"The arrogant full-of-himself jock?  Definitely Will's type."

Buffy held up her hands.  "I don't see any other horses in the field."

"It's the one behind the tree."

"There is no tree."

"Then it's crouched behind the bush.  The point is, the sooner you do the no-holds barred third degree, the sooner we'll know."  Xander dealt the cards.

"How'd we up it to no-holds barred?"

"She's our Willow.  We have to protect her."

Buffy studied him.  "Oh.  Protect her.  No other reason?"

"She and I worked through that.  We're just friends," Xander said as he picked up his cards.  "Prepare to do some heavy fishing, Buffy."

"Uh huh.  Twos?"

He made a small choked noise as he handed her a card.

---

Buffy stopped in the doorway of Willow's room as the latter tried to extract herself from sodden clothing.  "I thought you were waiting out the storm somewhere."

"I was going to," Willow said as she peeled off her socks and stepped out of the puddle she'd created.

"Waiting it out while snuggled up to a cute guy didn't appeal to you?"

It was meant as a joke.  To Buffy's surprise, Willow jumped.

"No, no guy," she said as she got a towel.

Buffy considered the information about the phone calls, though it didn't explain where Will had been for the past two hours.  The idea of a third degree didn't appeal to her though - Willow would speak when she felt comfortable enough to.  As well, Buffy's title as monarch of the messed-up romance department didn't give her much in the way of advice to offer.

"Oz called, but he was just leaving a motel.  He said he'd call you early tomorrow morning."

"He never gets up before three in the afternoon, so early means four," Willow said softly, then caught herself.  "Did that sound sulky?"

"No," Buffy smiled.  "It's too bad Oz can't visit you here."

"I promised my parents they could trust me," Willow said as she pulled on jeans and a tee shirt.  And this had been the falling out.  Will and Oz had been caught in the moment by her parents, and the resulting yells by Ira Rosenberg could be heard, it was claimed, by NRA members in the midst of a good round at the firing range.

Buffy remembered when her mother found out about her night at Angel's.  The extent had been an unpleasant fifteen minute talk.  Buffy thought that had been bad enough, but she was beginning to appreciate her mother's approach more and more every day.  The fact of Willow being an adult in every legal sense was irrelevant as she was, unimaginatively told, "under her father's roof."  The roof descended with an avalanche of new rules.  Oz hadn't specifically been forbidden to Willow, but maneuvering to him required some deceit on her part and she wasn't very good at it.

In the end, Oz decided on a solution - leaving town with the band to tour roadhouses.   It didn't require Willow finding ways to cover her tracks, but it did effectively isolate her.  She was broken-hearted, Buffy knew, yet was doing everything to keep from showing it.

As Buffy hung Willow's clothing over the shower doors, she said, "Let's order a huge pizza and watch movies.  We'll get extra olives."

"And if Xander gripes?"

Buffy shrugged.  "We'll laugh.  After all, we put up with his attempt at Rice Krispie squares - skittles instead of marshmallows."

With a straight face, Willow said, "It was one of his better attempts."

"Ick.  You mean we can expect more?"

"He once tried to make caramel apples, only we didn't have caramel so he used melted peanut butter.  And there was the famous pop tarts marinated in Dr. Pepper and fried to charcoal experience."

Buffy put her hands over her stomach as they went downstairs.

---

"When we get home, we should invite your parents over again," Giles said, breaking a cozy quiet.

Cordelia didn't bother to open her eyes.  She'd made a cranny in the sand to lie in, the sun felt warm on her skin, and Giles' thigh was comfy under her head.  "If you want," she murmured.

Her parents had blown them off twice already, which bothered Giles more than her.  'They're always busy', she'd told him, but he couldn't understand their lack of interest in her welfare.

"A grandchild is an incentive," he added.

"I don't think you're supposed to tell anyone until you're three months in.  Bad luck."

"You're not afraid to tell them, are you?"

"And I'd be afraid of what, specifically?  That they might get angry and not be in touch for a while?"  After a few minutes, she asked drowsily, "What are you reading?"

"King Lear."

"Oh, that one."

"You've read it?"

"Pray do not mock me.  I am a very foolish, fond old man.  I fear I am not in my perfect mind."  At his quiet, she opened her eyes briefly to smile at him, shading her brow with her hand.  "I read some of it at home one night while waiting for you to get out of the shower."

Giles glanced down.  "I……appreciate the part you chose to quote back to me."

"That's the only interesting part.  Well, that and the name of the *best* daughter."

She returned to her nap.  He read for a bit longer before putting the book down to look out across the waves.  They were calmer after the rain, swirling over the shore peacefully though the water itself was still muddy, opaque with kelp and sand churned up from the bottom.  They'd taken a swim before breakfast, then spent a good half hour picking pieces of seaweed off themselves.  The smell of it was still on his skin.

He could also smell vinegar.  They'd gone for fish and chips at the pier for lunch and, in a wooden booth at the back, worked out the details.  The timing wasn't the best for the baby would come during March, mid-semester for her.  That was a hurdle they'd deal with down the road.  They'd have the summer together as a family, and he could adjust his hours at the museum around her classes come September.  The last bit she said with a grin - 'Guess who's going to get the bulk of the teething, Rupert?' - however, he was still trying to come to terms with the thought of a baby in her arms, in his arms, in a crib in a bedroom housing diapers and stuffed toys, and other items he couldn't begin to guess at.

Giles looked back down at Cordelia, at the sun glinting off her hair and the soft smile on her lips, and thought suddenly, 'I hope it's a girl.'

"What part are you at?" she asked, startling him.

"Cor?"

She opened her eyes part-way.  "In your book."

He couldn't remember.  "Uh, a group of people are talking about something."

"You're finding it hard to focus on stuff too?"  She shifted up until her head rested against his stomach.  "The thought of having someone completely reliant on me is kind of weird."

"That part doesn't bother me."

She angled her head in order to give him a look.  "Yeah, you've been doing it for years now, haven't you?"

He startled again.  Cordelia was a curious schism of utter obtuseness and impetuous clear-sightedness and, despite their intimacy, he was never sure which side of the amalgam to expect.

"What part *does* bother you, Rupert?"  At his frown, she persisted, "You've been too quiet.  It means you're thinking."

"Nothing is bothering me," Giles told her.  In a unanticipated flash, he found it was the truth.

He stood, carefully pulling her up with him, and tugged at the strap of her bathing suit.  "Let's take these things off and go for a swim."

Cordelia stared at him in amazement.  "And you left Mr. Make-Sure-You-Chew-That-Thirty-Two-Times-Before-You-Swallow-It where?"

After shucking his shorts, he unclasped her bra, but when he reached for her suit bottom, she stepped back.  "What's your name again?"

"False modesty, honey."  He left her to go into the water.  After a moment, she slipped out of her panties and followed him.

"Fine!" she yelled across several waves.  "But the guy I know had better be back later!"

There was a sand bar half a mile from shore.  He'd discovered it this morning - an odd thing, after treading water that was over his head, to suddenly find the bottom rising up to meet him.  The water came just over his waist when he stood, but was on a direct level with Cordelia's breasts, and he found the sight of the water lapping up and down over them unexpectedly arousing.

He swam to the sand bar and stood, his back to the shore.  A few minutes later, she surfaced in front of him.  She noted the swift direction his glance took and said sardonically, "My eyes are up here, Mr. Giles."

"I know where your eyes are," he replied though he didn't change his focal point.

Cordelia waited for a good oncoming wave and splashed the bulk of it at him, then floated back, waiting for retaliation.  However, after blinking the salt water from his eyes, he returned his gaze across the water.

"Looking for England?"

She thought she saw a quirk of a smile.  "Wrong ocean, Cor.  We'd find Japan first and England would come…..a bit after."

"When I learned how to get from Los Angeles to Paris, I stopped listening in Geography class."

Far off, some sailboats appeared, heading for the public pier.  She squinted to look at the markings on the sails and said, "They haven't been out long.  I saw them leave earlier."

"Another rain is coming."  Giles nodded at a gray area.

With a sigh, she commented, "Some holiday."

"I've been enjoying it and we seem to find ways to occupy ourselves during storms."

"Naughty boy," she told him.

The grin finally appeared.  "It's been twenty years since someone said that to me."

"And the circumstances twenty years ago were?"

"Uh uh."  He shook his head.

"I'll get it out of you," she mused.

"No doubt," he said, with some seriousness.

"I'm glad you understand how things work around here."  She splashed him again.  He disappeared under it and she looked around suspiciously.

"Rupert?"

Nothing.

"Rup-ERT!" she squawked as he grabbed her from behind, but he only gave her a wet kiss.

She turned to enjoy the kiss further and afterwards murmured, "Do you think any of the other cabins have telescopes?"

"Probably they all do."  Giles bent to her mouth again but Cordelia pulled back, then glanced in dismay at the shore.

"Who cares, Cor?"

But she stared at him.  "At this particular moment, I just don't care," he stated.

"It took nearly a month before you'd let me leave a light on when we made love."

"We're only kissing."

"But, still….."

"And the water's high enough.  Cordelia, I don't care who sees me with you.  Good Lord, for the past two months, we've hardly seen a soul."

"You haven't been feeling well."

"I know," Giles said, feeling a sudden uneasy tiredness at her words.  "But we have people around us, friends, perhaps I'd call them family.  We haven't seen much of them, and I have a responsibility to Buffy."

"She's playing sore loser.  It hasn't been the most comfortable."

"I don't know what you mean by 'sore loser', Cor.  She and I aren't---"

"She doesn't want you and she doesn't want you with anyone."

Giles felt a heaviness go through his chest.  "That's harsh."

Cordelia met his eyes and said softly, "I'm sorry, Rupert, but think back.  Did she ever give Miss Calendar one inch whatsoever?"

He took her hands in his.  "I don't want to answer that."

"Rupert---"

"No.  Let the past go."

He saw a flash in her eyes.  "Regardless, I still don't suggest putting Buffy and I together in the same room."

"That's exactly what I think the two of you should do.  Cordelia, I am damned well determined she will live to retire."

She tried to shrug out of his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.  "On top of that, I love you.  You torment me almost beyond endurance and have given me more joy than I've ever felt before.  I love you very much, Cor, and we have a baby coming."

He felt her relax.  "I love you too, even if you are blind."

"Blind?"

"Unrealistically hopeful then."  She looked into his green eyes with a direct steady gaze.  "There are things I won't put up with, Rupert, and I'm feeling it more strongly now that I'm pregnant.  If Buffy and I happen to have any middle ground, it's a pretty unlivable spot."

"You don't think she'd be protective of the mother of my child?"

"Sure, but would that be before or after her extreme pissed-off-edness?"

He didn't answer.  Finally, she asked, "Am I getting the last word?"

"We're not having an argument," Giles said, an edge under his voice.  "Let's get back to the cabin."

NEXT