Title: A Spot of Bother (2/5)
Author: Gail Christison

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Jenny smiled lovingly at him. Whatever else he was, however much power lay behind the gentle eyes and quiet ways, this is how she would always love him most.

"Hey, if you want to go commando...I'm good with that...anytime," she twinkled. "Gotta say I have to admire a man who can do the skin thing in tweed as long as you have without scratching...something."

They both laughed and Giles immediately slid a hand down, mostly in memory of the number of times during the day that he *had" itched abominably and hadn't been able to do a damn thing about it.

Her eyes followed the hand. "Now that I could have scratched for you," she teased, those same eyes dancing with devilment.

"I've no doubt," he growled, having kicked off the shoes and the pants, and swept her up, carrying her across the room, not to the bedroom, but to the bathroom, where he knew resided a huge Italian bath, courtesy of the previous tenant.

Within minutes they were sitting in the filling tub, Jenny's back against his chest, her tender curves provoking his manhood almost beyond bearing as they both reveled in the freedom...the chance to taste, feel...to finally claim each other.

Jenny picked up a bottle and poured some of its lavender-coloured contents into the roiling water.

"Lavender oil...for relaxation," Giles said idly, in between nuzzling her silky head and caressing her thighs with wandering fingers.

"Mm...not that relaxation's exactly on the agenda, but it's served me well in recent times," she purred, turning her head enough to catch the lips that were now playing at her ear.

Giles kissed her back willingly but his heart sank a little, involuntarily, at the memory of why exactly Jenny would have needed the lavender oil.

He straightened and kissed the top of her head again. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I truly am...I wish...I wish we could start again."

Jenny leaned back against him again and trailed her fingers down a hard male thigh. "Going back isn't always the answer. Isn't the sum of who we are together all about what we overcome...and how we overcome it?"

He looked impressed, then smiled just a little. "Very profound of you at this time of day, and in a lavender bath," he teased, then grew serious above the dark head. "I'm in love with you, Jenny. I have been for some time. And, while I've had many dalliances and some more serious relationships over the years...I have never truly been in love...until now. The only reason I would wish to start again, would be to protect you. Nothing is worth what Eyghon...what I...put you through."

There was a long, worrying moment of silence. "You're worth it," she said finally, barely audibly. "You're not the only one with secrets, Rupert. I just hope you'll be able to forgive me mine when it's your turn."

When he didn't immediately reply, she turned, to be gathered in his arms and held close for a long time, neither of them moving even a little, until the water threatened to overflow.

They turned off a faucet each before moving back into each other's arms again.

"You told Willow to call, didn't you?" Jenny asked unexpectedly as she played with the damp golden hair on his chest.

After a long sigh, he spoke with the sound of a smile in his voice. "Yes, I told her. She is doing hourly checks and is under instruction to call us the moment anything significant changes. Willow has an extensive medical knowledge..."

"Willow has an extensive knowledge, period," Jenny corrected, smiling to herself.

Giles nodded. "Which is why you should now cease worrying and allow the lavender to do its work."

"I don't think so," she purred, drawing herself up so that she wasn't laying against him so much as kneeling over his legs. "Relaxation is actually the last thing I have in mind."

A thrill of desire and pleasure shuddered through him. It wasn't exactly what he'd planned, but they were together, they were happy and above all they were alone.

They made love for as long as the heat of the water held out, their passion so intense both rose to each other again, and again. When they were finally spent, they both slid right down into the, now tepid, water up to their necks, Jenny laying across Giles' chest, in the circle of his arms as they caught their breaths and came down.

"You never told me."

Giles frowned. "I...something's wrong?"

Jenny kissed his chin. "Of course not, worrywart. You just never mentioned that you were something of a prodigy in bed. You do realize that men your age aren't actually supposed to be able to do that...? And certainly not twice..." She trailed off and looked at him curiously.

His eyes narrowed as he followed her train of thought. He gave her 'the look.' "I don't need any embellishments," he growled, then the twinkle was back. "Some talents are God-given."

She could see the truth in the clear, frank green gaze, and smiled back. "Yeah ,well, you must have really been in *somebody's* good books that day."

He chuckled, then brushed her lips with his, just because he wanted to. "To be fair, it has been rather a *long* time since I last..."

"No girlfriends here in the States?" she was surprised into asking.

After a beat, he shook his head. "My calling pretty much precludes the normal progression of relationships. For a long time after Eyghon, I wouldn't allow myself...and then nature...and loneliness...asserted themselves and I began to see people again. Not often, and not for long. To be perfectly honest I was becoming convinced that I was no longer capable of a long term commitment...if I ever had been..."

Silence fell again for several very long moments.

"Until...?" Jenny prompted, too curious to let it drop.

"Until I almost lost you," he confessed, burying his cheek in her hair. "Terribly sobering to suddenly realize you don't want to...*can't* live without someone, just when you think they might never want to talk to you again."

Jenny's expression grew haunted, but her voice was as normal as she could make it. "Let's move to somewhere warm."

*******

The morning sun crept slowly across the floor of the loft until it reached, and bathed in a soft glow, the two people curled up together in the big bed, tawny head resting above a dark one, both faces relaxed and content, as though no hint of pain or horror had ever touched their lives.

Inevitably, the light on his eyelids roused Giles, as it always did. He stirred slowly, remembering why everything seemed unfamiliar this morning, why there was something warm and soft pressed against his body. He smiled very slowly, closed his eyes again and kissed the top of the dark head. After so many years of being alone, he was going to enjoy the exquisiteness of the moment just a little longer.

A little while later Jenny opened her eyes, the normally familiar surroundings strangely...not, but making more sense a few milliseconds later when she remembered whose heart was beating so rapidly beneath her ear. She lifted her head slowly and kissed his chin.

"Morning, England," she said in far more intimate tone than ever before. Then she voiced the next thought that popped into her head. "Willow didn't call."

Giles smiled to himself. "No, thankfully. And good morning to you too." He bent his head and caught her full lips. When he lifted his head she chased him and kissed him back before chuckling. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, mystified.

"Wake up without morning-breath, like a right and proper Englishman."

It was his turn to chuckle. "We should probably organize some breakfast and get out to the school to do that research before we go and relieve Willow..."

*******

Willow looked up from her computer at the sound of the key in the front door and smiled as Giles and Jenny, glowing and obviously confident that she had no idea what they'd been up to, came in talking softly and chuckling. It was obvious Jenny was teasing him about something.

"Hey, guys."

"Ah, Willow. You're up. How's our patient?"

"Still out like a light. Which...not unusual for Xander. He really isn't a morning person."

"I'll go up and take a look at him," Jenny said over her shoulder, already on her way.

Willow shrugged. "He's been fine. He hardly woke up last night. I had to bring water once and there was some yelling about clowns and vampires...or maybe clowns who were vampires...I couldn't tell, but mostly he's been quiet as a lamb...a very hot lamb...but, you know, quiet, and pink and okay...she didn't really have to check," she finished as though not sure whether to be miffed, or not.

Giles smiled kindly. "We trust you, Willow. Xander is in our care currently, and given how rapidly things can change on the Hellmouth..."

She finally smiled back. "Yeah, you're right. Did you find out anything about the caves?"

"A great deal that we didn't want to know about both historical and contemporary uses they've been put to, but there wasn't a jot of information about any kind of disease, organism or parasite associated with the caves specifically or the area in general."

"Or the demons that were living there..." Willow added helpfully.

"Or those, either," Giles conceded. "Their only known afflictions are intestinal parasites which are species-specific and a form of cancer which only affects those individuals who spend too much time in the sun."

Willow frowned. "Well, so far he's had a high fever, headache, muscle aches and pains, stiffness...of the musc-ly kind," she added hastily, "but I gave him some of your stronger headache pills and I made him drink a glass of water...and he crashed again pretty fast."

"Certainly does sound a lot like every day flu. I will be happier once the fever breaks, but at this point, ruling out anything mystical is definite plus," Giles sighed.

"Well, it's certainly not mystical," Jenny said dryly, coming back downstairs.

Her companions looked up curiously.

"Xander has chickenpox."

"Chickenpox!" The exclamation was jerked from Giles.

Willow giggled.

Jenny crossed her arms. "I wouldn't giggle unless you've had them too, young lady."

The giggle became a frown. "I don't...I don't remember. Xander and I had everything together; mumps weren't fun...but not as bad as measles, which, we were only six, so being sick was kinda cramping our fun ...mumps gave us a week off school when we were nine, so they weren't so bad...at least I only got them on one side...Xander looked like a chipmunk stuffed with way too many nuts." She stopped smiling and frowned harder. "Giles, I don't remember chickenpox. How could there be no chickenpox?" She looked crestfallen for several moments, then her green eyes lit up. "Oh...oh...I remember. Xander and I had everything together, *except* chickenpox. That's why I didn't remember right away. I had them in New York. We were staying with my dad's brother's family one summer and my cousin Jake brought them home from pre-school.

Jenny grinned. "Well, that's a relief. So we're only going to have to deal with Xander. The spots are well and truly coming out, so he's going to be impossible with the scratching."

"Y'know Xander seemed awfully sick for just...chickenpox," Willow mused aloud.

Giles stirred from a brown study. "What...oh. Adults...those who are no longer infants...often suffer much more when they contract childhood diseases."

"Well, that's pretty much what he's got," Jenny agreed, on her way to the kitchen "And he's awake...and hungry."

*******

Xander sat up with a start, tangling his bedclothes, from a dozing dream wherein he was a fish monster chasing Buffy through Macy's during a sale. No one was taking the least bit of notice until a floor-walker who looked a lot like Angel, stepped out and shot him with a spear gun.

"Uhhh...wha...!" He looked around. "Oh, God. So very, very glad that was just my delirium."

"You were delirious?"

Willow appeared in the doorway.

Xander reddened. "Well yeah...goes with the fever, y'know."

"And the spots?" Willow grinned as Giles appeared behind her.

"Spots?"

"Yeah, didn't Miss Calendar tell you?"

"There are spots I don't know about? *Please* tell me they don't look like fish scales..."

"Calm down, Xander. You have chickenpox. Provided there are no complications you'll be fine in no time."

"Chickenpox?!" Xander exclaimed, scratching his elbow.

Jenny Calendar finally appeared with a tray. Giles had sacrificed a can of gourmet chicken soup and his last Kaiser roll, and the girls had added a glass of milk, cookies and the last of Giles' leftover apple cobbler. The fact that he made his own desserts or 'pudding' as he tended to call it, impressed Willow out of all proportion.

Xander surveyed the tray, and the people around him with wide eyes. "Are we sure I haven't got some demonic plague you're not telling me about?"

"No, it's chickenpox," Willow assured him.

He looked down at the tray again. "Thanks," he said very quietly, and started on the food with remarkably little banter, for him.

"If you need anything, yell," Jenny told him as she and Giles withdrew.

"That goes for me too," Willow added, watching him for a moment. In all the years she'd known him, Xander had only had either his own dysfunctional family or hers to rely on when he was sick. And being sick in the Rosenberg household wasn't really much fun...way better that at the Harris's insofar as you actually got fed sometimes, and you did actually get to see the doctor...but still...Sheila Rosenberg wasn't exactly a nurturer...more of an 'inquire how you are as she passes by on her way to her next project' type.

He looked up, scratching his neck.

Willow batted his fingers away. "Bad, don't do that. I remember that scratching is bad. If you get the spots infected, it's very bad."

"Hey, I'm not six anymore," he complained, with a mouthful of bread roll.

Willow giggled. "Right," she agreed facetiously. "I promise I'll find out what they put on kids to stop them itching and get some for you."

Xander looked at her plaintively. "Will, I have chickenpox, in Giles' bed, with Miss Calendar making me food. There's an apocalypse, isn't there? This is why Buffy isn't here, right?"

"No...no apocalypse. Buffy doesn't know...I mean, Giles asked me to come over last night and watch you while he and Miss Calendar went to the library to research the caves in case you might have kinda caught something mystical, a-and nobody thought to tell Buffy. It's Saturday. She was going to the mall with her mom today. There's a sale on..." Willow reddened, remembering exactly what was on sale. "Never mind, you don't want to know. Anyways, I promise I'll call her and tell her how you're doing, and that you've only got chi-"

"NO," Xander cut her off. "Um, sorry, Will, but no. No way on God's green earth does the world get to find out that Xander Harris has a toddler malady. You cannot tell Buffy."

"What should I tell her then?"

"I don't know. Tell her I have a curse...a demon curse with festering, pus-filled boils...but I'm fine because Miss Calendar is nursing me back to health," he proposed, a sudden grin getting wider and wider.

"Xander..."

He scowled. "Promise me you won't tell anyone, especially Buffy, about the...you-know-what. Promise?"

Willow relented. "Okay, but I have to tell Buffy you're going to be okay. I-if she wants to visit you, maybe Giles will let us say you're allergic or something," she mused.

He scowled again. That didn't sound a whole lot more manly than chickenpox. Then again anything sounded more manly than chickenpox...except maybe diaper rash...

Time to focus again. "Fine. Just remember, you promised," he told her and began devouring the cobbler.

Willow opened her mouth to correct him, then closed it again and sighed. Then she smiled at him with great affection and left him to his meal.

*******

"Chickenpox?" Giles shook his head. "I could have found antidotes or cures for any number of demon curses or plagues or diseases. A week of Xander Harris itching and eating his way through my budget, however..." he muttered.

"Way too much 'fuddy' and not enough 'duddy'," Jenny pronounced without looking up from the phonebook she was pouring over.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Whining isn't sexy," she told him sweetly. "And I really do prefer the Rip..."

"Yes, well," Giles intercepted that dangerous train of thought just in time, 'how is he, Willow?"

She came off the bottom stair and crossed to the living room. "Oh, fine. But the chickenpox part of being fine is a big secret. I think he's kinda disappointed that all that feeling bad wasn't something more exciting...more adult, y'know?"

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "He'd rather have syphilis or suppurating Eiskoth demon sores, maybe?" she asked dryly.

Willow looked sheepish. He's sixteen. Yeah, he would...well maybe not the syphilis...because...bad. Oh...and probably not the sores, because...eieww...with the oozing and the smell and...okay this is not going well, but just don't tell anyone about the chickenpox, okay?"

Giles rolled his eyes and Jenny chuckled, but both nodded. "Why don't I take you home so you can enjoy what's left of your Saturday, Willow? It was very kind of you to come at such short notice. I'm sure you could do with a few hours sleep, yourself," he added, watching her eyelids droop.

It didn't take a brain surgeon to realize that they wanted to be together, such as they could be, with Xander in the house. There had been little looks, and even a Giles-blush or two ever since they'd returned.

"Sounds like a plan," she told him cheerfully. "But someone has to tell Buffy Xander's going to be okay. You want me to take care of it?"

Giles' eyes widened. "I completely forgot. No, no, we'll tell her...and no. I promise there will be no mention of chickenpox," he added when the rosy mouth opened to speak again.

It closed. Trust Giles. Willow collected her things. "Can I come back and see him again tomorrow, and maybe after school?"

"Of course...um...and if we need you to er...sit...with him again?"

She grinned. "Sure. No problem."

End part 2