Title: Love, Hellmouth Style 5-6
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome. Praise abjectly sought.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, etc., etc., etc. I just let them have all the fun Joss won't. I own nothing except my twisted mind which you really don't want. Please don't sue.




"Brought him back? Back to where? From where? I don't get it."

"After Eyghon. After Ethan."

Buffy fought the rising wave of nausea that threatened to envelope her.

"How do you know about that?"

"I'm a Watcher, Buffy. Or I was at the time. I've long since cut my ties to them."

"But you're..."

"Not English? Is that what you meant? No, I'm not."

"I thought all Watchers were English."

"Think about it, Buffy. The Slayer can be born anywhere in the world. Why would those destined to protect and train her all be born in one country? That would be stupid."

Buffy shrugged noncommittally. "I don't get most of the stuff about the Council anyway. They never did much for me, except send Rupert out here. I'm guessing that was a fluke."

"Perhaps not so much a fluke as you think. I find the universe has a way of getting what it wants, ultimately. And the ways of the Watcher's Council are somewhat arcane. I can well believe that you and they wouldn't understand one another. But that's beside the point. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Rupert. After the Eyghon debacle, he hit his lowest point. He wanted to come back, but was in no fit shape to do the Council any good."

"He was pretty depressed, I guess. He still doesn't talk about it if he can help it."

"Depressed was the least of it, Buffy. Do you have any idea how he was living there?"

"He said stuff about lots of majcks, but not a whole lot else. Like I said, he's not exactly sharing of information guy about it."

Professor Baird took a deep breath. "Majick was probably the least of it. He was involved in virtually every self-destructive behavior pattern I can name. Booze, drugs, streetfighting, and a lot of other things I'm sure you don't want to hear about."

"Rupert wouldn't use drugs."

"No, but Ripper did. I'm not telling you this for fun, Buffy. In fact, I'd much rather never say a word about it, busybody though I am. I have to tell you all this. You'll probably be very angry with me, and I may well deserve it, but you need to know the truth."

Buffy stood. "I can't listen to this. You're making it all up! And if you aren't, I don't need to hear it from you."

"Buffy, please, listen to me. You do need to know this and Rupert will never tell you."

"Then I'll just have to live in ignorance, won't I? You're really something, Professor Baird. You pretend to be my husband's friend and then you turn on him. Why? Why would you talk about him behind his back this way? On second thought, don't answer that. I wouldn't believe what you had to say anyway."

With that she swept out of the restaurant.

*****

When she got home, Buffy sat on the sofa, pulling her knees up to her chin and hugging them close to herself. She was angry with Professor Baird, but frightened that she'd done the wrong thing by running out on him. She knew that Giles hadn't told her nearly enough about what had happened during his Ripper period. Not what a wife should know about her husband's past.

But shouldn't the information come from Giles? Why wouldn't he tell her about his past? Didn't he trust her? She'd never told the others what little she did know of Giles' youth. The only hints she had given to Willow and Xander had been in an attempt to save Giles' life in the dark time of Eyghon's return.

He'd let a few things slip since then, or been caught out so he couldn't deny them as when Ethan had told her the truth of their relationship, but he'd never volunteered anything if he could help it. Of course, she'd never asked.

All Buffy could think was that she wanted her mother.

*****

Giles was concerned when Buffy didn't show up for training that afternoon. He knew she loved her workouts, no matter how much she complained about them. Her mutterings and defiance had always been a way of retaining some measure of control over her own life, and Giles recognized it as such. She might be late, make flippant remarks, and so on, but she wouldn't miss a session unless there was an emergency of some kind.

Finally, he couldn't sit waiting any longer.

"Anya, I have to go. Would you please stay and lock up?"

"Okay, but I want overtime. I'll be here late."

"Fine, anything, I have to find Buffy." He swept out the door, grabbing his jacket as he went.

*****

"Buffy, luv? Are you home?"

Giles walked into the apartment cautiously. If Buffy was angry with him for some reason, as she so often had been in the past week, it might be dangerous to enter too quickly. A survey of their small home, however, showed no sign of his wife. Nor was there any note explaining where she might have gone.

When phone calls to Willow and Xander yielded no information, Giles decided it was time to try Joyce. He hesitated to do so. He and Joyce hadn't spoken since the wedding and he knew she was still unhappy with the idea of his marriage to Buffy. Still, if she knew where Buffy was, it would be worth the discomfort involved in calling her.

Before he could change his mind, he dialed the gallery. He was greeted by the voice of Joyce's assistant, Ann.

"Hello may I please speak with Joyce Summers? This is Rupert Giles. Her, um, son-in-law."

"She's not here, Mr. Giles. Look, I can tell you since you're family; Joyce fainted. Buffy took her to the Emergency Room."

"How long ago was this? Is she all right?"

"It was maybe an hour or so. I haven't heard from either one." The woman sounded frantic with worry.

"Okay, I'm going to the ER now. As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll give you a call, shall I?"

"Thank you. I'd really appreciate that."

Almost before he'd hung up the phone, Giles was out the door. When the phone rang, he ignored it. He wouldn't allow anything to stop him getting to Buffy.

*****

Buffy hung up the payphone. That made three busy signals at the Magic Box, two at home, and no answer the last time she tried to call Rupert. Where the hell was he?

And why wouldn't anyone tell her why her mother had fainted. How long did it take to figure this stuff out? There was nothing Buffy could do but wait. And there was nothing Buffy hated more than waiting.

The minutes ticked slowly by with no answers. Buffy refused yet another offer of coffee from the nurse who kept assuring her that she would see her mother soon. She was about to try calling Rupert again, when she saw him hurrying to her side.

"Buffy, sweetheart, I got here as soon as I heard. Is there any word on your Mum yet?"

She let herself accept the comfort of his arms around her.

"They haven't said anything. I don't know what's taking so long."

"Ssshhh, luv, it'll be alright, I'm sure." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and led her to a chair. When they sat, Giles kept a comforting arm around Buffy's shoulders.

Finally, a young intern approached them. Buffy stood, and Giles followed her action.

"Okay, Buffy. Oh, and this must be your father. How do you do, Mr. Summers." The intern extended his hand to the older man who glared at him.

"This isn't my father, Ben. What's the word?"

"Sorry, sir. I just assumed...and we all know why we shouldn't do that. Well, Buffy, your mother seems to be perfectly fine. All the tests came back negative. It may have just been low blood sugar. Still, she's complaining of headaches, so we're going to give her a prescription for them, and she's free to go home."

"Should someone stay with her? In case something like this happens again?"

"There probably isn't any need, but it couldn't hurt."

Buffy turned to Giles. "I want to stay with her tonight, Rupert. I think it could be important."

"Of course, Buffy. Would you like me to come with you?"

"If you want. And if Mom doesn't freak too much."

"Well, I'll go get your mother sprung."

"Thanks, Ben. You've been a big help."

"It's my job."

The young man turned and left as a very relieved Buffy melted into Giles' embrace.

"You don't mind, do you? Staying at Mom's?"

"Of course not. It's probably a good idea to keep an eye on things at least for tonight."

"Not so good for the romance thing, though."

"I'm sure we can manage one night without."

Before she could reply to that, Joyce walked over to them. Buffy was at her side in an instant.

"It's all settled, Mom, Rupert and I are coming home with you and we're spending the night to keep an eye on you."

You really don't need to do that, Honey. The doctor said it was probably low blood sugar. I just need to remember to eat lunch."

"But the doctor said it was a good idea. And so did Rupert."

Joyce eyed her son-in-law. Giles could see where Buffy got the intimidating stare that made vampires quail with fear.

"You thought it was a good idea?"

"Well, i-it seemed logical under the circumstances. Buffy feels uncomfortable with the thought of leaving you all alone. You've just had an unexplained fainting spell, Joyce. Now I've no wish to alarm you, but on the Hellmouth that could be a sign of something supernatural. We simply want to make certain you're safe."

"Please, Mom? We can pamper you and bring you breakfast in bed tomorrow. Rupert makes really great French Toast. Besides, if you don't let us stay, we'll hire Spike to watch you and you'll have to put up with him all night going through your drawers and stuff."

Joyce sighed and put a hand to her aching forehead. "I'm not going to win, am I?"

"Nope. We're ganging up, and we're taking you down"

"In a metaphorical sense, of course." Giles added helpfully.

"All right, but that French Toast better be damn good."


PART 6
Once Joyce had been taken home from the hospital, Giles went back to the apartment to pick up a few necessities for himself and Buffy. Unfortunately, that would not include the cinnamon-flavored massage oil he'd been hoping to try out that night. They would have to behave themselves under Joyce's roof. If nothing else, they were both far too vocal not to be heard, and Joyce needed her rest.

Come to think of it, he probably did too. He and Buffy had been on a non-stop sex spree for almost two weeks now, and he was beginning to feel it a bit. Anya had commented several times on how tired he looked since he'd gotten married, and he'd almost fallen asleep at the counter one morning after a particularly intense lovemaking session before work. After all, he wasn't twenty anymore.

As the world kept reminding him all too frequently of late. Several people had mistaken him for Buffy's father. The young intern was merely the latest in a parade of people who let it be known, none too subtly, that he was far too old to be married to Buffy.

Even the Scoobies had been somewhat awkward around him of late. They seemed unsure of how his new relationship with Buffy affected them. Well, Anya hadn't changed appreciably. Of course to her, Giles was just a child, albeit one who gave her a job and guidance when she would take it from him. But Willow and Xander hadn't figured out what to do mentally with the fact that their mentor and father figure had gone and married their best friend.

He knew that, in time, their friends would understand and accept the changes, but the disapproval of strangers made him uncomfortable. At one time in his life, he'd reveled in flaunting convention. He'd dressed in clothes built for getting attention, groped Ethan publicly, drunk far too much, and begged on street corners and in Underground stations, singing the rudest songs he could get away with. Then Randall died, and it all went to hell. He'd spent the past quarter century trying not to be noticed. Trying to blend in. And then he went and married a girl barely old enough to vote, and too young to drink liquor. Not the best camouflage in the world.

Enough woolgathering. He had to pack what they needed and get back to Buffy before she got worried and came out looking for him.

Giles ascended to the loft and began rummaging through drawers, trying to imagine what Buffy would need for their overnight stay. The first thing he did was pick pajamas for her. He laughed ruefully since neither one had worn anything to bed since their first night together. Still, he took the yummy sushi pajamas he'd found so adorable when they were hiding in Xander's basement from The Initiative.

Basic toiletries weren't too hard to figure out. And if he missed something important, well, she could always send him back for it. He packed his own few necessities before entering the Twilight Zone of trying to think what Buffy would need for the next morning. He hadn't even thought to ask whether she wanted him to bring her a dress or pants.

Pants. At least he felt fairly certain what she would need in terms of underwear with pants. And since she'd worn pants that day, perhaps he could avoid the issue of shoes altogether.

He quickly grabbed a bra and panties, the closest pair of pants, and a blouse he rather liked. That was the best he could do. He could only pray he'd gotten it right.

*****

"Buffy, I'm fine. You can stop fussing."

"Not gonna happen, Mom, so get used to it. This is the new, improved, extra-nurturing Buffy."

Joyce had been tucked relentlessly into bed and was having her pillows fluffed within an inch of their lives.

"Now, as soon as Rupert gets back, I'm going down and make you some cocoa and a snack. No more low blood sugar for you, young lady."

"Honey, please, I'm okay. I just need some rest. I've been working hard and skipping a few meals, that's all."

"And that's another thing. You need to let Ann do more of the hard stuff. Why are you suddenly so into the gallery?"

"I've always been 'into' the gallery. That's how I've kept you in leather pants for the past four years."

"But lately, you've been Super Gallery Owner Woman. What's with that?"

Joyce shrugged. "Something to do, I guess."

"You need to get out more. You need a boyfriend."

"Unlike my daughter, I don't have handsome, sophisticated men banging down the door."

"One. Okay, handsome and sophisticated, he's guilty on both counts, but only one. Now and forever."

"You're so young, Honey. How can you be so sure?"

"I just am."

"Buffy, I hate to say this, but that's how I felt when I married your dad."

"Rupert isn't Dad. He's the most loyal person I know, and he's gonna be a great..."

"A great what? You aren't...?"

"Husband. I was gonna say husband. Now you just stay right there, and I'll get you that cocoa."

She practically flew out of the room before her mother could say anything else. Joyce shook her head.

"Like mother, like daughter after all."

*****

Giles pulled the Citroen up in front of Joyce's house, got out, and began walking to the door. He stopped when he felt himself being watched and smelled the faint trace of cigarette smoke.

"Spike? What are you doing here?"

The blonde vampire emerged from the tree he'd been lurking behind.

"Might ask you the same thing, Watcher. And what's this I see? An overnight bag? Don't even tell me you're having it off with the Slayer's Mum! Can't wait to hear what Blondie'll think of that! She'll have your guts for garters, mate."

"I rather doubt that, seeing as it isn't at all the case." Giles started toward the house.

"Then what're you doing here?"

"That's none of your business, and I already asked you the same question, with rather more authority."

"Free country, isn't it? And contrary to popular opinion, this place is directly on the path from...some parts of town to...other parts."

Giles glanced at the pile of butt ends littered around the tree where Spike had been standing, then quirked an eyebrow at the vampire.

"Alright, I'm off. Just needed a bit of a smoke is all. That quite all right with you, Rupert?"

"Clear off, Spike. And if I see you here again, I'll tell Buffy."

"Ooohh, big manly threat! As if she's got the wrinklies to take me on. She's never had the stones to stake me and she never will. Know why? Because she's got it for me bad. She's ooofff!"

Giles had the vampire pinned to the tree and pulled a stake.

"If you want to live to see another night, you will never repeat such filthy lies about Buffy."

To Giles' surprise, Spike began to laugh.

"What the hell's so funny?"

"You, Giles. Coming over the lovesick swain. She'll never really care about you, old man. You've never seen that you're expendable. Always have been. She doesn't care about you and she never will."

Giles released the vampire and grinned.

"That's what you think, is it? Spike, my boy, you couldn't be more mistaken if you tried."

He turned on his heel and walked to the door. Spike got the surprise of his unlife when Buffy answered the door with an enthusiastic kiss for Giles. For long minutes, the vampire stood rooted to the spot with a wounded expression in his blue eyes. Finally, he stubbed out his cigarette, turned on his heel, and stalked off to find a good place to get drunk.

*****

Later that night, Buffy and Giles snuggled close in Buffy's little-girl bed. They had to hold one another closely if they were both to stay on the narrow mattress. As it was, Giles' long legs hung a bit off the end.

"So out of all the sexy nighties I have, you chose my yummy sushi pajamas?"

"I like them. I happen to think you look sweet in them."

"You're a strange man, Rupert Giles."

She ruffled his chest hair affectionately, then ran her fingers through it in a preoccupied manner.

"Was that Spike out there earlier?"

"Yes, actually. I didn't like the way he was loitering and warned him off."

"My hero."

She dropped a kiss on his shoulder, then applied another directly to his lips. Giles took the opportunity to return the favor, snaking his tongue out to taste his wife. Several searing kisses later, Buffy raised her head.

"You know this is impossible, don't you?"

"Sheer madness." Giles agreed as he pulled her to him again, his hands wandering under her pajama top to caress her back.

Suddenly Buffy got very still, then turned pale and scrambled off Giles heading for the bathroom. A very confused Englishman followed her, only to find himself holding Buffy's head as she was violently sick.

A moment later, Joyce had joined them. As Giles applied a cool, wet cloth to the back of Buffy's neck, Joyce got her a glass of water. Giles took it gratefully and held it to his wife's lips.

"Tiny sips, luv, or you'll be sick again."

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. One moment she was fine and the next thing I knew, well, here we are."

"I'm right here" Buffy grumbled.

"How do you feel, Honey?"

"Crappy, Mom. I just threw up."

Joyce felt her daughter's forehead. "There's no fever. Have you been sick like this before recently?"

"Not really. I've felt yucky a couple times, but not like this."

"She's seemed a bit tired the last few days as well.. I didn't think much of it since we've been so...busy lately."

Joyce glared at her son-in-law.

"I'm okay, really Mom. I just need some sleep."

Giles lifted his tiny wife into his arms.

"I can walk" she muttered thickly as she nestled closer to his bare chest.

"I know, luv."

"Just don't drop me, 'kay?"

"Never."

He carried her to her room and laid her gently on the bed.

"Is there anything I can get you, sweetheart?" He brushed the hair from her face.

"Some ginger ale? There should be some in the fridge."

"Coming right up." He kissed her forehead and went to get the soda.


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