Title: Et in Arcadia Ego 4/7
Author: TweedEmpress
Disclaimer: I do not own Giles, Jenny or anyone else – I just wish I did!
Feedback: yes please. I’m needy ;-) I take full responsibility for any mistakes (spelling or otherwise) in this fic.

The hotel foyer was fairly busy. Couples waiting on tables were enjoying pre-dinner cocktails while in one corner a group of businessmen were noisily comparing stock portfolios. The obligatory pianist was playing the usual selection of easy-listening standards. The receptionist glanced up as the lift doors slid smoothly open and a radiant smile lit her face as she spied her current most-favoured guest. She had a few plans for the tall Englishman before he left. The smile was replaced by a scowl when she noticed the good-looking brunette accompanying him.

As if carrying an in-built radar, Jenny became aware that someone was staring at them. She scanned the lobby and saw the overly groomed receptionist with the mutinous expression.

‘If looks could kill,’ she thought, puzzled, before realising that the unwitting cause of so much hostility was walking beside her.

Jenny snaked her arm through Giles’ and pressed herself closer to him; in response, he brushed his lips across her temple. She glanced at the reception desk as they passed by and gave the woman her very best cat-got-the canary smile. Giles remained oblivious. Not for the first time, Jenny wondered if he truly had never realised the effect he could have on women. Such as the enormous crush Willow had had on him. Or the fact that ice-queen Cordelia Chase had volunteered to do so much late-night research just because she liked being alone with him. On the other hand, if he had noticed he simply wouldn’t be Rupert Giles, sexy fuddy-duddy extraordinaire.

Giles looked down at her and noticed the odd expression on her face.

‘Everything all right?’

‘Uh-huh.’ She smiled sweetly at him. ‘Perfect.’

The evening had brought coolness to the air – a welcome relief after the heat of the day. Crowds of people thronged the pavements, spilling over into the roads where car horns blared angrily at them. The buildings were festooned in brightly coloured decorations and masks, all contributing to the vibrant hum. People were hurrying by bearing bunches of golden flowers destined for altars, shrines and graveyards. They would join the offerings of food and candles that had been prepared all over the country. The magic that Giles had sensed earlier had now increased and in his relaxed mood, he could begin to see the colour of it: a rich textured gold that wound through the city. He wondered how many other people would be receiving these most unexpected and beloved of guests. If this miracle was an annual occurrence then surely someone, somewhere, must have an account of it? His mind began to ponder the possibilities … Until he felt Jenny tugging his sleeve.

‘I know that look.’

‘Wh-what look?’

She glared at him.

‘That “I-have-my-cross-referenced-card-index-memorized-by-heart” look. There will be no smelly old books for you tonight, okay? The only thing you will be reading is a menu.’

He smiled guiltily. ‘Am I that transparent?’

‘Nah, I just know you too well!’

‘Although,’ he added a moment later, ‘that would prove rather useful.’

‘What would?’

‘Having my card index memorized by heart-’

He broke off as Jenny launched an attack on him, determined to tickle him into submission. She was held at arm’s length and only occasionally managed to make contact with him until, both laughing, he pulled her into his arms and declared a truce. They continued down the wide boulevard, Giles’ arm around her shoulders, holding her close. Jenny gazed surreptitiously at him. He looked so happy, so relaxed away from the horrors of Sunnydale. Her heart ached slightly at the thought that he was so happy because she was with him. She sent up a silent prayer to any deity that was listening that they could avoid even the slightest hint of vampires, demons and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night. Just until sunrise.

Giles glanced down at the woman nestled against him and felt almost light-headed with joy. She looked radiant. Blissful. Fulfilled.

‘She looks how I feel,’ he thought, his vanity allowing him the satisfaction of knowing that he was at least partly responsible for making her look like that. And they still had the rest of the night ahead of them. He just hoped that vampires treated the Day of the Dead the same way they treated Halloween.

They strolled leisurely through the streets, turning away from the Zona Rosa and the more fashionable restaurants close to Giles' hotel. While Giles could appreciate fine dining as much as the next man (provided that man was a gentleman, of course) he had always preferred more informal surroundings. It was something for which Jenny was supremely grateful, and so they headed downtown. It was still too early for the clubs, but every now and then, they could hear the sounds of a band warming up from inside one of the deserted cafés. Jenny was making mental notes of the assorted bars and Mariachi clubs. Giles followed her gaze sceptically, wincing as he saw the poster advertising a night of "Pure 70's Disco!"

'Absolutely not,' he stated firmly before Jenny could even voice the question with her assumed air of wide-eyed innocence. 'No self-respecting male over the age of thirty should be allowed within ten foot of a dance-floor with the phrase 'disco' attached.'

'I would've thought you'd like the whole Seventies groove,' she responded.

'Ah, yes - how could I have forgotten my previous existence as a John Travolta clone? It's all coming back to me.'

'Oh, Goddess!' Jenny gasped, the incongruous image of Giles, complete with white flares, platform shoes and his very best Watcher glare, springing into her mind.

'Now, if I could just remember how to do The Hustle…' he continued, deadpan.

Jenny made a strangulated noise.

'Rupert, please, no more. I don't think my brain can handle it.'

'Does that mean I won that round?'

'Uh-huh.' She nodded, her composure regained.

He rewarded her with a pleased smile and started to move away.

Jenny followed him, her dark eyes flashing.

'For now.'

The restaurant they selected, in the Historic quarter, was lively and a favourite with both locals and the more discerning tourists. Their tiny table was in a more secluded corner – situated so that they could both enjoy the atmosphere and retain a sense of privacy. Giles watched as Jenny eyed the menu greedily and ordered a Margarita. The waiter – with that profession’s habitual expression of contemptuous boredom – scribbled down their order and left. Jenny found the green eyes focused on her intently and shifted in her seat.

‘You have no idea how hungry I am. And I know I probably shouldn’t be drinking those cocktails before dinner, but, hey, I feel like celebrating!’

Giles shook himself and smiled apologetically. ‘It isn’t that. It’s just…W-we’re here. In a restaurant. Eating food and ingesting appalling drinks. You and me. The unreality of the situation has made itself known again.’

Jenny laced her fingers through his.

‘What do I have to do to convince you, England?’

He smiled. ‘You don’t have to do anything. Every now and then, I think that I’m about to wake up, but I know that this isn’t a dream. We are here, you are real, and right now, I don’t care about anything else.’

‘But physical evidence is still a lot more convincing than words,’ she replied.

Jenny placed one hand on his knee and then began to slide it up his thigh. His eyes widened.

‘No more doubts?’

‘Jenny!’ His voice was a strangulated gasp.

She squeezed slightly and he grasped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

‘That was a question, England. Are you going to be having anymore doubts?’

Giles let out a shaky breath and met her eyes. His own were smoky, ready to meet her challenge.

‘With the current evidence, no. But I may have to test that theory.’

The waiter re-appeared, placing Jenny’s drink, a basket of bread and their cutlery on the table. He fussed over the arrangement of the napkins for a moment and then withdrew. Jenny’s hand remained where it was.

‘You’ll get us both thrown out of here. You do realise that.’ He noted conversationally.

‘Are you going to tell me that this isn’t the best dinner you ever had in you whole life?’

‘Would it be too much to ask that I actually have the dinner before I answer that question?’

Giles regretted the words instantaneously. His gypsy lover's dark eyes glinted wickedly over the rim of her glass while the fingers of her other hand began a gentle massaging motion. He wasn't quite certain whether or not to be relieved that the waiter chose that moment to bring their starters over.

'And I just had to chose something that requires both a knife and a fork. Damn.' Jenny sighed and reluctantly removed her hand.

The meal progressed without further incident, and the couple fell into easy, far ranging conversation. On both sides it was a wonderful revelation to be able to talk to each other without editing their speech, or worrying about secrets and lies. There was still so much they had never been able to talk about. Giles held the image of her in his mind, memorising everything she told him, building up her story, her past until he knew as much of her as he could. He swore silently that he would never forget a single word. Jenny didn't mind the mild interrogation. Not when those expressive eyes were locked on her, drinking in every word she uttered. There were women who would kill for this kind of attention from a man like him, and Jenny wanted to enjoy every moment. He already owned her body and her heart – she was more than willing to let him know the best and the worst about her.

'Am I asking too many questions?' Giles asked, suddenly aware that he had been quizzing her relentlessly.

'You think I'm going to object to having a captive audience for my life story?' Jenny grinned at him, then reached across and traced the side of his face with one finger. 'I love the fact that you want to know. I'm even prepared to tell you about my teenaged misadventures. Ask me anything.'

‘All right, what were you like as a teenager?’

Jenny rolled her eyes. ‘Umm, rebellious. Bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh?’

Giles laughed slightly, waiting for her to continue.

‘I did a lot of stuff to piss off my family. Going clubbing when I shouldn’t have, bringing home highly unsuitable boyfriends just to annoy them. That sort of thing. I was looking for a way out’

‘But it isn’t that easy,’ Giles said sympathetically, taking hold of her hand and running his thumb across the back.

She squeezed his fingers gently. ‘No, it isn’t. And then I discovered computers, and with them a whole other world.’

Instead of the half-expected grimace, Jenny found her last words greeted with softly glowing jade eyes and an expression of contented curiosity.

‘My people were…’ Jenny paused, remembering the suffocating society she had been brought up in, and the sullen, mutinous teenager she had been. ‘Well, they were strict. My mini-skirts were definitely frowned upon. And they didn’t really approve of anything to do with the modern world, so, at first, I got into technology to annoy them. But then it became something could give me the spiritualism that I was used to and new ideas that I hadn’t even dreamt of. Do you remember one of the first discussions we had about computers?’

Giles grimaced.

‘When you say discussions, do you actually mean arguments?’

Jenny laughed self-consciously. 'Can we call them lively debates and leave it at that? Anyway, I remember telling you that we were building a new society. That's what I loved about them. That I could escape into this place where people could share ideas and just be…free…from the past.' Her face fell slightly. 'Or as free as I could be from it. It never quite worked out that way.'

Giles nodded. 'I can understand that - trying to get away. It is more difficult when the thing you're trying to escape is part of you. At least you chose a more…beneficial route.'

Jenny looked at him before venturing cautiously, ‘How-how bad were you? Y’know – in your day?’

Giles seemed to consider the question carefully, and then sighed. ‘Oh… I was angry and stupid and confused. But mainly, I was scared. And towards the end I was bloody terrified. I caused my family a great deal of pain and worry – but I could never quite bring myself to be as truly bad as I liked to think I was at the time. Until Randall. That’s when the terror set in.’

'Not so much Big Bad as Bit Scared, huh?'

He snorted. 'I think Big Sad would be closer.'

Jenny giggled. 'And at the time, you probably would've been just my type! So, is there anything more you need to know about my not-so illustrious past?'

'Er, just one thing,' Giles eyes gleamed slightly. 'Just how short were these mini-skirts?'

Later.

The restaurant was still crowded. The live music was merrily - and loudly - colouring the air and the swell of conversation had risen proportionally over it. In their corner, Giles and Jenny had leaned closer together, their chairs inching across the floor until their knees were touching. Two pairs of hands lay entwined on the table. Giles traced small circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

‘I, er, I-I still have your rose quartz necklace.’

Jenny’s eyes widened slightly, wondering how she could not have known that. The necklace was old and held many protection and healing charms. Perhaps, she thought, his having it was partly why she had always been able to feel a connection to him so readily.

‘Willow gave it to me,’ he continued. ‘She found it. I-In your desk drawer… After…’

She gripped his hand harder, her throat tightening.

‘I’m glad. Did it help?’

Giles cupped her face, gazing into her now overly bright eyes.

‘I think it did. It felt…comforting to have something of yours so close to me. Tonight,’ he broke off, taking a deep breath before he continued. ‘Tonight is the first time I haven’t had it with me.’

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find any words. For a moment, his face blurred before her eyes and she took a deep, shaky breath past the lump in her throat. He was cradling her face in both his hands and she could feel his warmth penetrating her skin, spreading through her. Jenny closed the short distance between them, pressing her lips against his. One hand tangled in her hair and she automatically twined her arms around his neck, replacing the memory of cold rose-coloured stone with the reality of her warm flesh.

The kiss deepened and Jenny moaned softly as he gently nibbled her lower lip before once again stroking inside her mouth with his tongue. She moved closer, sliding out of her own chair and felt his strong arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap. She ran her hand over his chest, scraping her nails over his nipples through the thin fabric of his shirt before linking her fingers behind his head.

Giles’ hands remained chastely positioned: one at the back of her head, the other on her waist, but now he pulled her closer to him, his body hard against hers.

The intensity of their kisses lessened until Jenny pulled back slightly, her eyes still closed as she inhaled his scent. She half expected him to be embarrassed at their display in his endearingly British manner. Instead, he shifted under her, re-positioning them both so that she could perch more easily, his arms loosely around her waist.

‘You’re just full of surprises, England,’ she said tenderly. ‘I was expecting squirming. Even just a little one.’

He grinned back up at her. ‘I think I’ve moved past the point of squirming, Darling.’

‘I liked the squirming,’ she replied, idly playing with his hair. ‘It looked good on you.’ Jenny lowered her head, briefly capturing his lips.

‘I do seem to get told that rather much.’

‘Oh? And who, exactly, has been telling you this?’

‘W-well, you. A-and, er, y-you.’

He frowned.

Jenny grinned.

‘I knew I’d get you squirming before the night was over.’

Giles glared at her.

‘You are an evil, evil woman, Jenny Calendar.’

She laughed and then found her head being pulled down to meet his and any other thoughts were driven out of her mind.

The waiter looked over at the table and rolled his eyes. He should, really, go over and ask them to stop. But the restaurant was crowded and no one seemed to mind the couple in the corner. He had, in fact, seen worse during his time here. And there was just something about those two…

He smirked slightly and left the charismatic pair to enjoy themselves.

‘Y’know, Rupert, I think it’s about time we left.’ Jenny murmured.

‘Spoilsport.’

Her breath was hot against his face as he answered and her eyes flickered closed at the sensation.

‘I think that’s usually my line.'

Giles smiled slightly, holding her a little closer.

‘I promise to make it up to you.’

A lop-sided smile spread over her face.

‘In that case, we’re going dancing!’

He leaned his forehead on her shoulder and groaned before looking up at her in weary resignation. ‘Fine. But there is one condition.’

Jenny’s eyes narrowed. ‘And that would be…?’

‘That I chose where we go.’

‘Oh.'

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