Title: Home For The Holidays
Author: Gileswench

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Buffy smiled sardonically.

"I guess that sort of depends on your definition of alive," she quipped. "But yeah, I still know a few people with actual heartbeats and stuff. Not enough, but some."

"So...you've had some losses in your life?"

"You could say that. I'm pretty much down to my little sister, a couple friends, my boss and Giles. And Spike, but I really don't want to go into that right now, so just forget I mentioned him, okay?"

"And with Christmas coming you were feeling lonely?"

"Lonely doesn't begin to describe it," she admitted. "But if I was just lonely, I could find a guy without going to anywhere near the time, effort and expense of this little jaunt. I even know someone who'd probably be thrilled if I turned to him, but I already tried that and it was...badness. Beyond badness. Major, major suckage and wrongness and...not rightness. It's Giles I want, and nobody else will do. But that becomes a point of mootness if he doesn't want me. I'd sort of have to let go then. And I didn't mean to go all Oprah on you. Sorry."

"While I'm not quite certain what you mean by that, it sounds to me as if you needed someone to talk to," Mary observed. "And it may surprise you to hear this, but I think that's exactly what Rupert needs, too."

"Which I'd be happy to do if he'd talk to me," Buffy grumbled. "Every time I try to get him to say something - anything - about what's going on in his head, he totally blows me off. It's not easy to get him to really talk. And I'm tired and hungry and I look like hell and I think I made a big mistake coming here at all."

"I doubt that," Mary said. "If you love him he deserves to know. Even if nothing comes of it, at least you'll have tried. Now why don't we go back out? Our dinner has probably arrived, and I know Donald will be worrying about us by this time. You'll feel better with a good meal in you. And if this is what hell looks like, it's not as bad as people say."

Mary got an odd sinking feeling when Buffy turned large, sad eyes to her.

"It is as bad as they say. Trust me." Buffy took a deep, centering breath. "Okay. I'm ready. Let's eat."

"Should I go get them, do you think?" Donald asked.

"Of course not," Giles said. "Women never like to be rushed when they're in the toilet."

"Mary hates it when her chips get cold."

Giles rubbed his chin and sighed. Donald put down his fork and smiled at his friend.

"Ready to tell me why you're acting this way?" he asked.

"I only wish I could," Giles said. "I'm sorry, Donald. I know I'm not fit company tonight. Perhaps I ought to have stayed home this evening."

"You mean you think Buffy ought to have stayed home, don't you?" Donald corrected. "Why don't you want her to stay with you? It's clear she's mad for you, and you haven't called a woman 'infuriating' in that tone of voice since Chloe Henshaw. I thought you were never going to get over her."

Giles actually chuckled at that.

"Chloe...lord! I wonder whatever became of her."

"Divorced. Two kids. Gone badly to fat. She's in banking now. Went strangely quiet when I mentioned you were back."

"Chloe? Chloe with the tattoo on her...she's really in banking?" Giles sputtered. "She was going to be a singer."

"You think I don't remember?" Donald chortled. "You used to make me sit through all those crap songs you wrote for her to sing."

"Don't remind me," Giles groaned. "Self indulgent wanking."

"I've still got the one you were working on when she left so suddenly."

"Do the world a favor and burn it, will you?"

"No chance! I'm saving it in case I ever want to blackmail you."

Both men were giggling when Buffy and Mary returned. Giles looked up apologetically at Buffy. Her nod and slight smile let him know he was forgiven, but he could tell from the set of her shoulders there would be words on the subject later.

For now, though, they decided to let the matter rest and enjoy dinner.

Giles unlocked the door of his flat and ushered Buffy in. She moved slowly past him, unbuttoning her coat as she went. Giles watched with growing trepidation. A quiet Buffy was likely to be a dangerous Buffy. He finally decided to break the silence that had enveloped them since they left the pub.

"Look, Buffy," he began. "I'm sorry about...well, about how I behaved earlier. It was inexcusable, I know..."

"No," she said in a slightly distracted tone. She turned and looked sympathetically at him. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry, Giles. I had no idea what it was like all that time."

Giles blinked.

"What...what was like? I don't understand."

"Giles, I sat there tonight with no idea what to say - or even what was going on most of the time," Buffy explained. "You and Donald and Mary...you have this - this language -"

"It's called English."

"It's called best friend shorthand." Buffy corrected him. "It's called 'we've known each other forever and we grew up in the same place and we don't even think about how someone else doesn't know this stuff'."

Giles looked at the floor and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry," he said. "We didn't mean to exclude you."

"I know. But you did. And I just figured out that's what Will and Xander and I all did to you for years. We didn't mean to, either. That's what this has been all about, hasn't it? It's not about where you live; it's about fitting in. It's about having someone get your jokes and care about the things you care about. It's about having someone know who you're talking about when you say the name of some politician or sports hero or actor. I get that now."

She shrugged off her coat and hung it up next to his, then took his hand and led him to the sofa.

"So," she asked, "what do we do about this? What do you want, Giles?"

"That's just it," Giles said with a breathy chuckle. "I find I want it all. I want you and I want England and I want to be useful and I want the quiet. And I know I can't have all of it at once. Life simply doesn't work that way, does it?"

"Not the last time I checked," Buffy returned wryly. "Look, it's late, I'm jetlagged, we've both had too much to drink; maybe now isn't the best time to make a big decision. Let's get some sleep and we can talk about this again in the morning. Besides," she added with a wicked grin, "I need to consider the consequences of being with you a bit more carefully."

"Consequences...?"

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Giles, I think Donald knows what happened to every woman you've ever dated. He talked about meeting up with - what? - like five old girlfriends of yours and every one of them turned completely boring and gets freaked when they hear your name. I'm not so sure I want to risk ending up as a waitress in a truck stop who runs around in circles clucking like a chicken when she hears the name 'Rupert Giles'. And you know what happens to my old boyfriends, don't you? The way they all go nuts and run away?"

"They don't all..."

"Giles, Angel moved to LA and decided to reform Faith, of all people. Riley moved to South America and married Mary Poppins with an uzi. Spike went somewhere I don't even know about and gained his soul only to lose his marbles. Even Scott Hope came out of the closet and moved to San Francisco."

"Scott Hope? I don't remember him."

"I dated him for about a nanosecond my senior year. Remember? The slug who dumped me right before Homecoming?"

"Is that what led to your temporary insanity?"

"One of the things," Buffy said. "And I remember how supportive you were; how you never doubted I'd be Homecoming Queen. It meant a lot."

"Well, I wasn't precisely unprejudiced in the matter."

"You were precisely wonderful about it, even though you didn't understand what all the fuss was about." She stood. "But, like I said, it's late and I'm out of it. This is not the time to get into heavy stuff. Do you have a guestroom, or am I camping on the sofa?"

"No, please, take the bedroom," Giles fussed. "I'll be fine out here."

"You sure about that?" Buffy asked. "'Cause I'd be okay out here."

"I...um...I want to think a bit before I turn in. It's easier to think when I can move about."

"If you're sure," Buffy said. "This is you last chance before I steal your bed until I go back to Sunnydale."

"I'm sure."

"Okay, it's your back. Just don't pace all night, will you? I don't want to find any holes in the floor when I come out here in the morning."

"I'll do my best to leave the floorboards intact," he assured her. "Let me just get you some fresh sheets."

As they made the bed together, they chatted of this and that. They teased one another about foibles they'd known since the library days and ones they'd discovered in one another in later days. The feeling was intimate and sweet. Buffy found herself imagining this as a regular activity she and Giles might share. Her cheeks grew warm at the idea. She glanced shyly up to find Giles looking at her, also a bit shyly. He ducked his head suddenly and Buffy had to smile.

Maybe he would ask a chair named Buffy to go out with him after all.