Title: Home For The Holidays
Author: Gileswench

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

More than half an hour later, they walked into the pub together. Buffy coughed and waved some of the smoke away.

"I'm sorry," Giles said. "I ought to have warned you. There aren't so many anti-smoking laws around here."

"Hasn't anyone heard of second-hand smoke in this country?" Buffy groused. "And how much good does it do if I kill off the vampires when everybody's so busy killing themselves with cigarettes?"

"Buffy, things are different here. Get used to it."

"I wasn't planning to stay long enough to do that. My flight home is in two days. I told Dawn I'd be back for Christmas. Promises to keep."

"Look, just try not to give Donald a difficult time over his smoking, will you?" Giles asked.

"If I don't give Spike grief over that, I'm not gonna do it to a total stranger, Giles. Anyway, my cranky mood is all your fault; what's your excuse?"

"Your 'five minutes' in the bath which turned into twenty minutes might have contributed," he said.

Buffy glared, then turned to survey the room. In a corner, she saw a plump, middle-aged couple waving Giles over.

"I take it they're your friends?" Buffy said.

She looked up at Giles. She blinked. In place of the sour expression he'd worn a moment ago, his face was wreathed in a large and genuine smile. Unlike so many of the ones she'd seen over the years, this smile didn't disappear almost before it began. It took her mind a moment to process the fact that he was crossing the room and make her own legs move.

By the time Buffy caught up, Giles was already shaking hands with Donald. A second later, he had kissed Mary's cheek and turned to introduce Buffy.

"Donald and Mary Knight, I'd like you to meet Buffy Summers. Donald and I were at school together, Buffy."

"Really?" was all she seemed able to say to that. From Donald's generous waistline and nearly bald head, she'd assumed he was far older than her Watcher.

"And where did you meet Rupert?" Mary asked.

"Um...actually, at school, too. My school. In California," Buffy stuttered. "Which I didn't own. I just went there. But now I work at school."

"Buffy was a student when we met," Giles interpreted. "Now she's a guidance counselor. She helps troubled kids get back on the right path."

Buffy couldn't help the warm glow she felt at his obvious pride in her accomplishment. Nor could she help the embarrassed flush on her cheeks at her own inane ramblings on the subject.

"Well, I couldn't have done it without Giles," she said. She mentally slapped herself. 'God! Cliché much?' She tried again. "He's been a big influence on me."

"Obviously," Donald said with a twinkle in his eye. "He's never been this late meeting us before."

"My bad," Buffy confessed. "I'm a little jetlagged. I only got here a couple hours ago."

"Oh you poor dear, you must be done in," Mary clucked in a motherly tone.

"D - done in...?"

"Tired," Giles interpreted.

"Well a decent meal and a bit of time with Rupert should put you to rights," Donald said cheerfully. "What'll you have, Buffy?"

"Have? Um, how about a menu for starters?"

"Would you like me to choose something for you, Buffy?" Giles asked kindly. "This place makes an excellent Shepherd's Pie."

"I dunno," Buffy replied. "Is it made with real shepherds or is it some sort of...mock shepherd?"

The other three at the table laughed heartily. Buffy did her best to come up with a sincere smile, but she felt left out - as if she should know the joke since she supplied the punch line. The heat rose in her cheeks again. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Did you need the loo, Buffy?" Mary asked her.

"Huh?"

"It's right over there." Mary pointed to the sign for the bathroom.

"Oh, that, no," Buffy said. "It's just...long flight. I've been sitting so much, it's a little uncomfortable."

Giles took pity on her.

"We could play a round of darts while we wait for our order," he suggested.

She took the out gratefully.

"Sure," she said as she almost leapt to her feet. "Just don't cry when I win."

"I believe I can keep my emotions under some form of control in that unlikely circumstance," he returned dryly.

Giles went to the bar to get the darts.

Alone with Donald and Mary, Buffy felt suddenly very shy. She smiled uncertainly at them. The older couple smiled back at her.

"So," Mary asked, "how long have you and Rupert been together? Where has he been hiding you?"

"Hiding...? I haven't been hiding. I've been right there in Sunnydale all the time. And we're...not...I don't think...or maybe..." she trailed off uncomfortably. "It's all sort of up in the air."

Donald shook his head.

"Don't tell me Rupert's losing his touch," he laughed.

"Touch...?"

"With the ladies. He's a terror."

"Now don't frighten the poor thing," Mary scolded. "If he's a bit shy it's a good sign he's serious. The more he cares, the harder it is to get him to commit."

Buffy took a moment to process that piece of information.

"So if he's all Mr. Cool I'm So Smooth, it's probably just a fling?"

"I'm afraid so," Donald said.

"And," she said, "if I found him...say...practicing pickup lines on a chair - just as a for instance - that would mean he was really into the woman?"

Donald and Mary smirked at one another.

"I would say that was a very good sign, indeed," Mary assured her.

Buffy's heart sank. Giles had never asked a chair to go out with him in her name. She jumped slightly when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see Giles. He gestured with the darts toward the board.

"Shall we?"

She smiled tightly at him.

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Have you ever played before?"

"I think I might have once at a party in college."

"You think?"

Buffy shrugged.

"I don't really remember all that much of the party," she admitted sheepishly. "Like I said: booze and Buffy? Bad idea. But I know there was a dartboard and the next day everyone was talking about my great aim, but there were no broken windows or anything, so I'm guessing I won the darts championship. If it was something else, I don't think I want to know."

Giles laughed and shook his head.

"Sounds a bit like my first darts game with Ethan."

"You were drunk?"

"Um...stoned, actually. I'm not sure I hit the board at all that night. At least I didn't hit any people. I *think* that would have been mentioned."

"You got high? What on?"

"Do you know how to play, or shall I remind you, now you're sober?" Giles asked blandly.

Buffy glared.

"You always do that," she grumbled.

"Do what?"

"Weasel out of telling me stuff about you. I don't like it."

"Do you want my entire history with illicit substances or do you want to play the game?" he asked in a tired voice. "I think I've had enough confessions for one night."

"But I was the one making them all," Buffy protested. "You hardly told me anything compared to what I told you."

"Aim for the center of the board," he said as he handed her the darts.

"Well duh!" she muttered disgustedly under her breath. She was just about to throw the first dart when she stopped and turned back to Giles. "Your friends don't know who I am, do they? That I'm the Slayer."

"No, they don't. They don't know what a Slayer is - or a Watcher, for that matter."

Buffy nodded.

"Okay, they won't find out from this," she assured him. "But I'm still gonna wipe the floor with you."

She readied her dart, concentrating on finding the right level of strength, accuracy, and ordinary human ability that would win the game while convincing those around her that she was just another girl. She just thought she'd found the right mix when her concentration was blown by Giles brushing his fingers down the back of her neck. She shuddered and let fly.

When she opened her eyes, Giles was grinning wickedly and her dart had imbedded itself in the wall, fully a foot from the gameboard.

"I thought you knew how to play," he taunted her.

She handed over the rest of the darts with a glare.

"Maybe I don't like this game as much as I thought," she said. "I gotta go to the bathroom anyway."

Buffy stomped off to the bathroom. Giles looked after her retreating figure as long as he could see her, then blew out a frustrated breath and returned to the table.

He dropped heavily into his chair and took a long pull at his lager. He looked up from it to find Donald and Mary both staring at him in confusion. "What?" he snapped.

"Excuse me," Mary said frostily as she stood. "I think I need the loo."

She moved past her husband and marched to the bathroom. Giles glared at Donald, challenging him to say something - anything. He wasn't disappointed.

"You're a good friend, Rupert," he said as quietly as he could while still being heard over the din of pubnoise, "but sometimes you really are a birk. What the hell are you playing at?"