Title: Home For The Holidays
Author: Gileswench

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Buffy returned to the couch and sat next to Giles again.

"Because it would have killed us both and you know it. There would have been too much guilt, too many real emotions, too much regret. Too much love. And that love would have turned to hate. It had to be someone I hated already. Someone whose respect didn't matter to me. Someone not you. Someone who would make me feel like I was getting the punishment I thought I deserved. And hey, it's not like Spike didn't know the real score."

"What are you talking about?"

"I kissed him once, to shut him up. And you know why?" Giles shook his head. Buffy continued. "Because he said he'd always wondered if we were sleeping together. You and me. He knew about me and him. And we hadn't...yet. But he knew I wanted to. With you."

Giles breathed a slightly bitter laugh.

"Spike is far too perceptive on occasion," he said. "Do you remember the dreadful row we had the night before we fought Adam?"

"Not something I'm gonna forget in a hurry," Buffy said with a wry smile. "I'd like to, but I can't."

"I don't believe I ever told you what Spike said to me that day, did I?"

"Sure didn't. Like I've said, you're not one to overshare. So, are you gonna tell me now while we doing the true confessions thing? 'Cause I've always wondered."

"He told me...he said you didn't need me; that you thought I was a useless, ridiculous old man. That you had no place in your life for me. Lord, but that hurt! I've never reached for the whiskey bottle that quickly or that enthusiastically before. Or since. I dealt better with your death than your neglect."

Buffy smiled sadly at him and took his hand.

"I'm not neglecting you now. And I don't think I'm using you. I want to be with you, Giles. I want to give myself to you - the good and the bad. I'm ready. I guess the question is, are you ready?"

Giles stood and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I honestly don't know," he said. "Buffy, please understand, I want to be with you. I've wanted it for so long, I don't know quite what to do now it's being offered to me."

Buffy stood and joined him.

"You say yes," she said. "You take me in your arms and say yes."

"And I forsake my home, yet again, to follow you. Is that it? I pack my bags once more and return to the land of eternal bloody sunshine?"

"If I could leave Sunnydale to be with you, I'd sure as hell consider it at least," she said. "We'd talk and decide which is best. But the way things stand, I can't come here. So yeah. You need to decide whether you're ready to pack up and come with me. I know it's not fair, but it's all we have. And if we get together, it's not a one night stand situation. This is the real deal, Giles. Love. I'm so in love with you it hurts sometimes. This is huge and scary and there's no turning back from this. So what do you say?"

Giles pursed his lips and ran his hand back through his hair. Buffy watched nervously as he went through his repertoire of gestures designed to denote frustration. She wanted desperately to break the sudden silence between them. Her imagination conjured up satisfying images of throttling Giles or kicking him in the butt until he gave in and agreed to come back to California with her. Instead, she bit back her temper as best she could and waited for him to make up his mind.

Buffy sat with her fingers twisting together. Giles knew what that meant; that she was doing her best to remain patient when her last nerve was on the verge of shattering. Her eyes were wide and sad. Half of him wanted nothing more in the world than to take her in his arms and kiss her until her eyes were bright again. The other half wanted to send her away and go drink himself into a stupor.

While he was making up his mind which part of himself to listen to, the phone rang. Cursing under his breath, he went and answered it.

"Yes?" he said sharply.

"Rupert," came a cheerful voice on the other end of the line, "Mary and I were just going down the pub, and we thought you might like to join us."

"Ah," Giles said. "Well, I'm not sure, Donald. I have a guest."

"Bring her along!"

"How do you know my guest is a woman?" Giles countered.

"If it was a man, you'd have told me who it was," Donald said. "Come on, old man, have a drink and some dinner with us. If you don't come, you know Mary and I will invade your home when we're done just to get a look at your fair visitor."

Giles sighed and looked over at Buffy.

"We've been invited out for dinner and a drink," he told her a bit peevishly.

"Don't you want to go?" Buffy asked. "We're getting nowhere fast with our talk, so this taking a break thing might not be such a bad idea. Besides, I'm hungry and jetlagged and we've both had booze. Let's eat. We can talk again when we're in better moods."

Giles glared at her, but had to admit Buffy was right on all counts. He turned his attention back to Donald.

"We'll meet you there. The usual place?"

"Right. I'll have a pint waiting for you both."

"Make ours a half, Donald. We've been at the egg nog here. Oh, and make Buffy's mild."

"Buffy? She's really called Buffy?"

"I'll see you in about twenty minutes." He could hear Donald chuckling as he rang off. He turned back to face Buffy again. "Did you want to get cleaned up before we go?"

"Yeah," Buffy said quietly. "If I'm gonna meet your friends, I better look a little nicer than this. Overseas flying does nothing for my skin, it turns out. Anyway, my hair's a mess now."

"Sorry."

"I really didn't mind," she told him with a sad half smile. "How's your sweater? I didn't make any holes, did I?"

Giles looked down at his chest, then raised his eyes to hers.

"Not in my jumper, no."

Buffy blinked.

"Jumper? What, you're wearing girl's clothes now? Please tell me you don't have a Catholic school girl uniform in your closet, 'cause that would be so wrong."

Giles chuckled and shook his head.

"Sorry, I meant my sweater. We call them jumpers over here."

"Oh. One of those cultural things, huh? Y'know, I always used to think America and England spoke the same language."

"We very nearly do," Giles said. "Variations on a theme, as it were."

"Yeah, I know. Just sometimes I wish it wasn't so varied. Between the culture gap and the generation gap it's a wonder we can talk at all sometimes." She went to the door and retrieved her suitcase. "So, where's a bathroom in this place?"

"In there, on the right." Giles pointed down a small hallway.

"Give me five minutes to make myself gorgeous and we'll be on our way."

As Buffy headed down the hall, Giles picked up his egg nog. He raised the cup, then put it down again before he could take a sip. He moved to sit on the sofa. Then he leaned over the coffee table and picked up the abandoned plum pudding. One long golden hair still clung to the hook. For a moment, he considered removing it. In the end, however, he just touched it lightly, then slid the ornament into his pocket.