Series: The Hellmouth Chronicles
Title: Winter of Discontent 26/?
Author: Gileswench
Contact: gileswench@yahoo.com
Date: 11/20/03
Spoilers: Through very early S5 of Buffy and end of S1 of Angel. After that, it all goes a bit different.
Summary: Transitions and tribulations
Rating: PG for ridiculously mild sexual references, family foo.
Pairing: Buffy/Giles, W/T, X/Anya, Joyce/Crystal
Distribution: If you've had my permission in the past, you have it now. All others, ask and ye shall receive.
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.
Notes: I know it's been a very long time, but I'm back. Hopefully on a more regular basis now

Buffy trudged purposefully through the night.

"So, Anya," she asked, "where did you last see my dad?"

"On Harper Avenue. He's very big."

"So?"

"Your mother is very tall, too."

Buffy stopped short and faced her companion.

"Your point being?" she asked dangerously.

"How did you end up being so short?"

"Recessive genes? I don't know. Did he give you any clue where he'd be, or where he'd find victims?"

She started off again. Anya hurried after the Slayer.

"No. Have you ever considered the possibility that you may have been adopted?"

Again, Buffy stopped and turned on her companion.

"Look, Anya, my parents are my parents," she said. "I have the birth certificate to prove it, too."

"But they're so tall. Perhaps there was a mixup at the hospital when you were born. Perhaps you're someone entirely different than you think you are."

A light dawned in Buffy's mind. She relaxed her stance slightly.

"Look, Anya, I am who I am. There wasn't a mistake, and I'm not adopted. But thanks for trying to make this easier. I just wish you could."

Before Anya could come up with a reply, two figures appeared out of the night.

"Where do you think you're going at this hour?" Angel demanded.

"And why aren't we invited along if you're going to get into some fisticuffs?" Spike added."

"What are you two doing here?" Buffy growled.

"Making sure we don't have to explain to Giles in the morning how we let you go to your death," Angel said. "I think that might make him a little cranky, and we'd rather not have to deal with that side of him."

"It's not pretty," Spike added.

"Angel can come and play, but Spike, you're not invited."

With that statement, Buffy turned and began to walk again. She soon realized there were three sets of footsteps behind her. The turned back.

"Go away, Spike."

"Sorry, Pet. Doesn't work that way. You can hang your crosses and garlic at home, but out here, this is my turf. I go where I choose and I choose to follow you."

"Why? Why do you have to bother me?"

"Because I don't want to see you get yourself all mangled and killed. 'Sides, it's been days since I got into a good fight. So, what are we up against? Vampire? Demon? Talk show host? It's all the same to me. As long as it's not Howard Stern. That bloke's funny. I won't hurt him."

"You couldn't hurt him. He's human, however marginally."

"Fine. Not Howard. Who is it?" Angel asked impatiently.

"Buffy's father," Anya supplied.

"Your...Buffy, are you sure you're up to this?" Angel asked.

"If I'm not, a lot of people die, so I'd better be."

"Yeah, like you were ready with Angelus," Spike sneered. "How many people died because you liked his face?"

"You know, I wouldn't bring that up if I were you," Buffy taunted him, "because your face is not one I like very much ever since you punched my husband in the eye. Give me a reason, and you won't have a face, anymore. Now shut up, or go away, because I have a vampire to kill tonight."

With that, she turned on her heel and headed determinedly off in a direction she picked at random. She might not know where the beast she sought was, but she knew where all the popular hunting grounds were. She'd find him.

The other three followed along, hoping she wasn't leading them into a trap that would get them all killed.

*****

Willow drew her hand back.

"I - I have a girlfriend, remember?"

"So?"

"We live together and everything. I don't want to cheat on her."

"Okay," Julia said. "I'll keep my hands off you...for now. Just remember, some of the best spells need a sexual connection to work, and it sounds like your little woman doesn't trust herself with the fire. It's not really cheating if it's for a spell."

"What sort of spells?"

"Ones that unleash huge power. Ones that alter reality, bring the dead back to life, even kill huge numbers of vampires without striking a blow."

"Really?" Willow gulped. "H-how many vampires are we talking here?"

Julia smiled. This was going to be entirely too easy.

*****

Cordelia kissed Wesley again and again. There was passion in every touch. She could feel herself drowning in it. Suddenly, he stopped. He lay above her, his forehead pressed to hers, his hands cupping her cheeks as he balanced on his elbows.

"I forgot for a moment," he said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

"Forgot what?" Cordelia asked dreamily.

"That we'd best not do that until we know what condition you're in."

Her hand moved of its own volition to caress his back.

"It's okay," she said. "I don't think we should...y'know, until we're protected, but...don't go. Stay with me tonight."

Wesley rolled to his side and took her into his arms.

"I'm not sure I can do that and keep my hands to myself," he said with a small smile. "I should probably go.

Still, he made no move except to run his fingers through Cordelia's hair. She snuggled closer.

"Hands aren't a problem," she said. "And if...other parts want to come out and play, there are other ways we can deal with them." She looked seriously into his eyes. "Stay. Please."

It was the 'please' that undid all his resolve. Cordelia was not the sort of woman to ask if she thought she could demand.

He kissed her gently.

"I'm not going anywhere."

*****

Giles lay in bed, patiently awaiting Buffy's return. Or, perhaps impatiently might be more the case. He knew his wife would have a few very blunt things to say to his sister, and had no doubt that Gertie would be every bit as blunt in return. Neither had a great gift for tact, and both were tired and in bad moods. If he wasn't so exhausted from his own ordeal, he would never have allowed them to be alone together.

He ran a hand over his stomach. It was flat again. Well, as flat as could possibly be expected of him at his age. At any rate, he no longer looked as though he'd swallowed a basketball. That was something, anyway.

A knock at the door disturbed his reverie. He got up to answer.

"Gertie? Where's Buffy?"

"I don't know. She left me about half an hour ago. I thought she'd be with you by now."

"No, she hasn't been here since you left together." He sat on the bed. "I've no idea where she is."

"Bloody hell. I ought to know better."

"Better than what, Gertie?" Giles asked dangerously.

"Don't use that tone with me, little brother," she snipped. "But I really ought to have waited until the morning to talk to her about...this whole situation."

"What did you say to her?"

"I asked her why you got married, and she yelled at me a bit. I know I ought to have waited, but you have to admit, it is strange."

"I don't see that I have to admit anything."

"Rupert, look around you. Even this room proves it: you and Buffy have nothing in common but that baby. I can tell you exactly which of you owns which things in here." She began to point to items. "Your Victrola, her CD player, your medal case, her notice board full of photographs. Your demonology references, her textbooks and paperback romance novels. And look at the music." She began to rifle through his albums and her CDs. "You have Cream, Pink Floyd, David Bowie, and she listens to Sarah McLaughlan, The Sundays, Velvet Chain...Dingoes Ate My Baby? I've never heard of most of these groups, and neither have you. Tell me honestly, Rupert. If it wasn't for the fact you've put her in the club, would you have married her?"

"Yes, not that I see what business it is of yours. Are you really going to try to tell me your personal life is above question?"

"We're not talking about my personal life just now."

"Of course not. We never talk about that when there's my life to be dissected."

"I see your temper hasn't improved over the years. It's a wonder Buffy looked your way at all."

Giles' retort died on his lips when there was another knock on the door. He glared at his sister and went to answer it.

"Xander? What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Hey, Big G, great to see you looking better, too," the younger man said with a roll of his eyes. "Look, have you seen Anya anywhere?"

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