Title: Odd Couples
Author: Gileswench

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Over the next two weeks, her friends grew more concerned about Buffy. She continued to attend her courses and patrol much as usual, but seemed withdrawn, as if she was living on autopilot. Everyone saw the concerned looks Giles shot in her direction when she wasn't looking back, but nobody dared approach him about the problem, either. His sarcasm, always biting, had become blistering.

"I asked him how he was the other day, and he completely bit my head off...in a metaphorical way," Willow told Xander one day over cappucinos at The Espresso Pump. "I know neither one of them deals with the whole emotional stress thing all that well, but this is a new record for not dealing."

"And Buffy never listens to anything anymore," Anya agreed. "Just to check, I told her I was thinking of having an extra nose surgically added to my face, and all she said was 'that's nice' in this really strange voice. It was like she was deaf. You don't think she's gone deaf, do you?"

"No, she hasn't," Xander said. "She's just...you know how she disappears when she's got a problem she can't figure out how to fix. I want to fix this, but I don't know how. I mean, it's not like I can just go get her pregnant myself."

"It worked with Joyce," Anya shrugged.

While Xander's mouth worked helplessly, Willow put her friend out of his misery.

"I don't think Joyce or Giles would understand if he tried...not to mention what Buffy would do to him. I think we should let Giles be the one to...y'know...do...that."

"But if his sperm is infertile, it won't work. We know Xander's works. He's already impregnated a woman. One who should be on the verge of menopause. Buffy's much, much younger than her mother. It should be very easy."

"Honey, I don't think it's a good idea," Willow said patiently. "Maybe we should all just butt out of it. I mean, Buffy and Giles will get used to the no baby idea, and they'll go back to normal. Won't they?"

"I hope so," Xander sighed. "But I want them to have that baby. They both want it so much, and they're both such pains in the butt while it's not happening. I told Joyce I'd find a way to help them, but the only brainstorm I've come up with so far involves sending Faith a cake with a file in it, and she'd probably just use it to stab someone in the shower and get herself stuck in solitary. I'm tapped out. Unless one of you can think of some way to fix this, that's it. And don't even mention adoption. Joyce already tried that and Buffy wouldn't talk to her for two days."

"Maybe I could do a fertility spell. Y'know, kinda nudge the swimmers in the right direction, if you know what I mean."

"If I still had my powers, I could call on some demons I know and see if they could help," Anya said.

"What could demons do to help a Slayer have a baby?" Xander asked in confusion.

"There are all sorts of demons with all sorts of powers. Some can do amazing things. What exactly is Buffy's problem? Is it infertility or the saving the world all year thing? Or is she just tired of all the enforced sex?"

"Well, neither of them has found out there's any reason they can't," Xander said slowly. "And come on! There's no such thing as too much sex. Is there?"

"Buffy did say something about her window of opportunity closing for this year," Willow said. "Then she said something about it being nailed shut probably for all eternity. That sounds like a timing thing to me."

"Then what we need is a time-bending demon," Anya said with a wise nod of her head. "Perhaps a Skloath."

"Skloath?" Xander yelped. "Wait a minute! I know one of them!" He gulped the last of his coffee and jumped up, tossing money on the table. As he raced for the exit, he came to a sudden stop, turned back, kissed Anya heartily on the cheek and grinned. "You just saved us all, An."

He nearly ran out and down the block to his car. Willow raised her eyebrows at her girlfriend.

"How does Xander know a Skloath demon?" she asked.

"And what does he think he's doing kissing me?" Anya added. "I'm not going to have sex with him."

"That's...good. But I don't think that's what he has in mind."

*****

Buffy and Giles lay in bed side by side, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't coming easily to either.

"Rupert?"

"Yes, Buffy?"

"Do you realize this is the first time since we got married that we've kept all our clothes on in bed?"

"It's been longer than that."

"Okay, but this is the first time since we got married that we didn't try to make a baby. We weren't trying for that before we made it legal."

He rolled over and propped himself on his elbow.

"If you'd like to make love anyway...well, I...I bought some condoms today."

"Not in the mood," she shrugged.

"Neither am I," he admitted.

"Then why did you ask?"

"In case you wanted to, anyway."

"Oh. Some other night, okay?"

"Okay." He rolled onto his back. After a moment, he spoke again. "Would you mind if I read for a while?"

"You read in bed?"

"When I'm not exhausted from having sex with you, yes. I need one or the other to fall asleep, actually."

"Oh. Sure, then. Don't want you tossing and turning all night when a few pages of prophecy could knock you out for the duration."

"The light won't bother you?"

"Nah. I'll be fine. It'll be not unlike the times when I nap in class."

Giles switched his bedside lamp on and picked up a book. Buffy leaned over to see what it was.

"Alice In Wonderland? Isn't that a kiddie book? In English and everything?"

"Did you think I read prophecies in Ancient Greek at bedtime?" he teased. "This is a bit of light reading to help me to sleep. Translating tends to keep me awake...if only because of the subject matter of most of the translations I do."

"Monsters?"

"Your safety."

"I'm safe tonight. No need to worry." She reached up and rubbed his chest comfortingly. "We're safe tonight."

"Yes, we are," he agreed with a smile. "It's nice having you next to me, knowing you're not injured or in danger."

"Sweet talker." She kissed him softly. "Have fun with the Duchess."

"Duchess? What do you know of the Duchess?" he chuckled.

"Hey, my dad read it to me when I was a kid. Even then I wanted to slay her." She snuggled closer. "It was a good book. If someone wanted to, I'd let them read it to me again."

"Haven't you learned to read for yourself?"

"Well yeah, but I like your voice. It's comfy."

"You're quite mad, you know, but alright." She settled with her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "You do realize you'll have to help me turn the pages, don't you?"

"I can handle it, big boy. You just read."

"And there are monsters all through this book, you know."

"Well duh! I do remember that. But pretend monsters. They can't hurt us."

Giles chuckled softly and adjusted the book in his hand. Just as he drew in breath to read the first line, there was a knock at the door. He frowned and disengaged himself from Buffy.

"Who could that be?" he wondered.

"Guess we better go check," Buffy sighed.

They rose, put on their robes, and headed downstairs together.

"Yes, who is it?" Giles asked.

"Open the blasted door," came a gruff voice from the other side.

"Dad?" Giles opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"There's a nice welcome," Ernest sniffed. "Well? Stand aside, boy. Don't leave me standing on the doorstep for all your neighbors to stare at."

Giles did as he was told. His father entered the room.

"So what brings you here - not that we're not thrilled to see you, but...why?" Buffy asked. "Daphne's okay, isn't she?"

"Yes, yes, she's perfectly well. But what about you?"

"Me? I'm fine."

"Humph! Your friends tell a different story."

"What different story?" Giles asked. "We're both fine. I hit my head last week, but I was perfectly well after a bit of a lie down. As for Buffy, she hasn't had so much as a scratch lately."

"The others haven't even been patrolling with me lately. I won't let Xander come with me until the baby's born, Anya hates patrolling, and I haven't needed any spells so I've let Will off the hook to do schoolwork. It's not like they would have seen it if there had been a close call, or anything."

"You can't think of any reason they'd worry about you?" Ernest asked. When both his son and his daughter-in-law shook their heads in confusion, he snorted. "Thick as whale omelets, the pair of you. They're not worried about your physical well-being; they're worried about how bloody miserable you've both been lately, and what pillocks you're being. They've asked for some help so you two can have your baby and stop whingeing about life being unfair. They go in fear of their lives, you've been so bloody to them."

"Dad, as much as I'm mortified to even ask this...how do you expect to help? It's not as if this would be a good time to chance...trying for a baby. We've simply run out of time for this year. We can try again in a few months time..."

"When you'll have another terribly short window of opportunity that will nail itself shut in another hurry," Ernest said. "Face it, son, even if you had...hit the jackpot in that short time, all it would take is one demon who doesn't know he's not meant to rampage all summer long to ruin everything."

"So...you're saying don't even try?" Buffy trembled with combined anger and trepidation. "I thought you wanted a grandkid."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Ernest snapped. "No wonder they're all so worried about saying the wrong thing. There doesn't seem to be a right thing one can say. Rupert, go and make some tea. I had a long flight to get here, and I want to knock some sense into the pair of you. Can't do that without a bit of fortification, and the bloody doctor has forbidden me anything stronger. Damned nuisance."

He moved to sit on the sofa. Buffy followed him and Giles went into the kitchen to make tea as his father had ordered.

"Yes, sir," he snorted under his breath. "Of course, sir. Tea coming right up."

"And bisuits, if you have them," Ernest added. "Ginger, preferably."

"Um...all we have is chocolate chip," Buffy said.

"Forget the biscuits, then. Never did care much for chocolate."

Giles finished setting up the tea things, left the kettle to boil and joined the others.

"You were saying, Dad...?"

"The problem is, there is no good time for a Slayer to have a baby. No matter how carefully you time it, something is almost certain to go awry. Best laid plans of mice and men, and all that."

"If you're just going to quote Burns to me, you can save your breath," Giles said.

"If one can make out that appalling lingo of his, there's a great deal of truth to be found among all the 'wha' hae's' and so on," Ernest said placidly. "And I believe you both know the power wielded by a single person refusing to do as he's told. You'd both be mouldering in your graves if either one of you had stopped to listen to reason. Believe it or not, I'm not here to stop you having a baby."

"Then what's with all the dire about there is no good time?" Buffy asked. "If you're not trying to stop us, what are you doing here? What are you trying to tell us?"

"You don't seem to realize, either of you, that you have a way out. Skloaths."

"Dad, Mum can only take herself out of the timestream for very short periods, and she can't take anyone with her," Giles sighed. "I know you mean well, but I don't see how she can help in this case."

"True, your mother on her own doesn't have that sort of power, but she has full-blooded relatives and friends. Several of them working together could do this."

"Do what, exactly?" Buffy asked.

"Take us out of the timestream for as long as it takes us to have a child," Giles explained. "Would they do it?"

"Hald a dozen have already agreed to help your mother."

"Why?" Buffy blurted out. "I mean, not that I'm not grateful, but what's in it for them?"

"Protection," Ernest said bluntly. "Skloaths are harmless demons. They do their best to blend into human communities and do their part in a crisis. They're a peaceful, gentle race. But they're demons. For centuries, Slayers like yourself have hunted them down, simply because they weren't human. If the Skloaths help you have a child, they expect you to protect them and let future Slayers know there's no harm in letting them live."

"Well, it's not like I haven't worked with demons before. Heck, I've dated the undead. I can let some good guy demons have a get out of being slayed free card. Anyway, they're sort of family, and I make it a policy never to slay relatives, no matter how tempting it might be. So, what do you say, Rupert?"

"I say...oh dear, the kettle's boiling!" He raced to the kitchen and finshed making the tea. He placed everything on a tray and brought it out to the living room. As he sat down, his wife and father both glared at him. Giles smiled. "I suppose I ought to have made herbal tea. Caffeine isn't good for expectant mothers."

Buffy launched herself into his arms with a cry of delight and kissed him soundly.

"I suppose that means I should finish making the arrangements," Ernest said in a bemused tone.

"We'll have a few arrangements to make, ourselves," Giles said. "Unless we want to worry about things like clothes, diapers, and cribs after we've already got a baby."

"Ohmigod! I have so much shopping to do!" Buffy exclaimed.

Giles and Ernest shared a knowing look over the top of her head.

"Women, eh, Son?"

"I wouldn't know about 'women', Dad. But Buffy."

"Buffy what?" she asked warily.

"You, my dear, need a twelve-step program to cure you of your shopping obsession."

"Twelve-step is so Nineties. And I've never heard of shopping rehab. If you ever hear of it, don't tell me, either. Besides, like you said, we'll need lots of baby stuff before we go. When do we go?"

"Whenever you like. Just remember, you'll be gone nine or ten months at minimum, but to your friends it will seem like you've gone on an overnight trip. Pick a time that looks like it will be quiet, and Daphne and I will do the rest."

"You know what?" Buffy asked in a contented voice. "I think I married into the world's coolest family, demons or no demons. And you know what else I think?"

"What do you think?" Giles asked.

"I think my picket fences are now officially psychedelic. Purple's too normal to cover it anymore."

"Psychedelic picket fences?" Ernest asked.

"Possibly designed by Salvador Dali," Giles said.

"Mad, the pair of you," Ernest huffed.