Title: Christmas Resolutions 4/5
Author: Gileswench
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.
By the time Lucy led Buffy to her bedroom, the Slayer was ready for some alone time. Simon, Lucy's husband, had turned out to be a large, quiet man nearing sixty with a sly sense of humor and a fondness for roses. Their older daughter, Clara, was twenty three, married and expecting her first child in the spring. Her husband, Marcus, spent all his time caring for her ills, real and imagined, as only a very nervous first time father-to-be can. Jane, the younger daughter, was on leave from graduate work at Oxford in History. Giles was obviously proud of her accomplishments, and Buffy was a bit alarmed at the amount of knowledge she seemed to keep at the tips of her fingers.
As for the youngest, Trevor, Buffy had had to inflict her most impressive rendition of Giles' Ripper glare at him twice already for flirting with Dawn. He was also the one who looked the most like a Giles, with his green eyes and devilish grin. And Giles assured Buffy that the mop of curls on the boys' head would be brown if and when he washed out all the blue dye. Despite the boy's rakish appearance, it was clear that the family intellect had come down to him, as well. He was witty, and could be quite as charming as he wanted.
Everyone had been friendly and pleasant, but Buffy still felt a little overwhelmed. It was still difficult for her to cope with groups of strangers for long. And a group where she was at the disadvantage of knowing nothing about any of them while they knew quite a bit about her was making things harder.
"Here we are," Lucy told her as she opened the door of a spacious and lovely room. "You just settle in here. Breakfast will be at eight, and we'll open packages after that."
"Right. Packages. I'm so sorry I didn't bring anything for you. I didn't know. Giles never said anything about his family, so I just sort of assumed he'd be alone this year if Dawn and I didn't come here...and now I'm babbling. Sorry."
"Nonsense, my dear. There's nothing to be sorry for. And as for presents, that's perfectly fine. Having you here is present enough for us."
"Great. Extra mouths to feed. Just what everybody wants for Christmas."
Lucy took Buffy hands.
"The thing I wanted most this Christmas was to see my brother smile. He was so sad when he came back. So lost and hurt and I knew there wasn't a thing I could do about it."
"Why not?"
"Because he'd left his heart behind him. Do you have any idea what that's like, Buffy?"
"Oddly enough, I sorta do. But he's better now, right?"
"He was getting better rather slowly, yes. And then he rang me yesterday."
"And...?"
"You were there."
"What? So, I show up and poof, he's all better?"
"Well, that would be a simplistic, but not entirely inaccurate way of describing matters."
"Wow."
Buffy sat heavily on the bed.
"Wow, indeed. So you see, Buffy, you've given me the gift I wanted most. Anything else would be an embarrassment of riches."
Lucy headed for the door, but stopped before she left.
"Oh, and Rupert already added your name and Dawn's to all the packages he brought for us. I do think that counts."
"I still feel weird about this."
"Don't. You're here, you're welcome to stay, and, in case you're interested, that door over there connects with Rupert's room."
Before Buffy's jaw had even finished hitting the floor, Lucy was gone.
*****
Two hours later, Buffy lay wide awake thinking about what was on the other side of that door.
Giles.
Her mind kept chasing it's own tail around her head as she tried to figure out exactly how she felt about him.
He was Giles, who was safe and tweedy and comforting and not at all what a romantic girl's dream should be.
He was Giles, who had a dark, dangerous side that attracted her more than she wanted to admit.
He was Giles, who smelled of tea and leather and soap and ink.
He was Giles, who occasionally smelled of whiskey or vampire dust, but never at the same time.
He was Giles, who taught and trained her.
He was Giles, who had finally abandoned her.
He was Giles, who apparently bragged about her to his family.
He was Giles, who had never mentioned his family to her at all, except for a long-dead father and grandmother.
He was Giles, who couldn't smile when she was gone from him.
He was Giles, who still walked away to make her strong.
Buffy threw off the covers and strode to the door that connected their rooms. She hesitated one last time with her hand on the knob.
He was Giles, who was older than her own father, and about to become a great-uncle, already.
He was Giles, who wanted Buffy. Not the Slayer, not salvation, not a notch on his headboard, but Buffy.
And Buffy decided she wanted Giles. All the Giles' there could be.
She opened the door.