Title: Odd Couples
Author: Gileswench

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

Buffy wasn't entirely sure where she was going when she left Giles' apartment, but she soon realized her feet had made up her mind for her. They were headed for the Sunnydale Inn, and she decided to follow them.

She asked at the desk which room the Giles' were staying in. Soon she was standing at their door. Taking a deep breath, she knocked. Ernest opened the door a moment later.

"Hi," she said. "Listen, could I talk to you a minute?"

"Of course." He stood aside and allowed her in. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk to Daphne? She's gone to the shops, but she'll be back soon. I think. Actually, it may be some time. Loses all track of the clock when there's money to be spent, I'm afraid."

"No, that's okay. You're kinda the one I wanted to talk to, anyway." Buffy wiped her palms on her hips and frowned, gathering her thoughts. "Look, Rupert told me. About Daphne. About her demon side. And his."

"He what?" Ernest exploded. "Of all the...he swore he wouldn't."

"Well, his mother unswore him this morning and I happen to think it's a good thing she did. This is something I should have known a long time ago. I need to know it if I'm going to marry a guy who's one-eighth Sloth demon, or whatever."

"Skloath is the correct name, if you're interested," he said stiffly. "Do I still have a son?"

She stared at him in combined horror and disgust.

"Duh! What? You thought I'd just slay him? That's really what you thought, isn't it?"

"You are the Slayer." He sighed in relief and sat heavily. "It's your job to kill demons. I wasn't sure....."

"I used to work all the time with a werewolf and a vampire. And an ex-vengeance demon. I've made deals with a realer devil than you'll ever meet. You can't possibly think I'd kill the man I love just because he turns out to be a little demony himself. And for the record, Daphne's completely safe, too."

"That's good. I'd hate to have to fight you, and I'd never let you harm my family."

"Nah. I'm not into hitting old guys...with the possible exception of Quentin Travers."

Ernest looked up with a gleam in his eye.

"You hate that fatuous old pillock, too?"

"Well, I was gonna call him a jerk, but yours sounds better."

"I'd call him worse, but there's a lady present."

They shared a wry smile. Buffy sat next to Ernest on the end of the bed.

"So, about this demon thing," she started.

"Are you calling off the wedding?"

She shook her head.

"Probably not. But Rupert wants me to be really sure about this, now he's finally spilled the beans. He told me to think, and he's right. Finding this out now wasn't fair to me, but ignoring it wouldn't be fair to either of us."

"Then I suppose you've come to tell me off for not allowing him to tell you."

"Nope. Don't get me wrong, I'll yell about that later. I really don't have time right now. I'd never finish in time to think about what this all means. And I'd never find out what I came here to ask about."

Ernest stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Buffy couldn't repress a small giggle.

"Sorry," she said when he looked startled. "It's just...now I know where Rupert gets that one from. Kinda nice to know."

"I'll ring room service for a pot of tea, shall I?"

"Okay, I gotta know this: is there anything Rupert does that isn't a total copycat of your moves?"

"I never married a Slayer. Never even met one before you." He phoned in an order for some tea and cookies, then returned to where Buffy still sat. "Now, what is it you wanted to know?"

Buffy frowned and tried to put her thoughts in some sort of order.

"The whole demon thingie; is it going to make any real difference? I mean, he says he doesn't have any powers or anything. So, it doesn't matter, right?"

"Well, he can't do the things his mother does, certainly. Then again, when he was a boy, he got knocked on the head several times and was never much the worse for wear, after. Skloaths have very thick skulls. It's difficult to do much damage there. They're natural linguists, and so is Rupert. I used to make him do all my Latin translations once he learned because he was so much faster and more accurate than I was. Also, the Skloath tend to have excellent stamina. Rupert ran marathons, once upon a time. Did well. Won a couple. If he'd put any real effort into his training, I imagine he'd have won them all. So, no, he doesn't have any of his mother's more mystical abilities, but I think he's got several rather good traits from her side of the family all the same."

"So that's why it's almost never a big deal when he gets whacked on the head. And he certainly does have stamina when we...train. Yeah. Fencing, martial arts, all that stuff. He can go for hours."

Ernest stifled a laugh. When there was a knock at the door, he answered it. He brought in the tea and cookies and set them on the small table.

"Buffy, I know you were trying to respect my delicate sensibilities, but I do understand that couples in love need stamina for more than fencing," Ernest said. "After all, Rupert did manage to get himself born. Now, do you take sugar or milk?"

"One sugar, please."

"Ah, ginger snaps. My favorite."

"So what's it like? Being married to a demon, I mean. Well, part-demon."

Ernest sat back and took a sip of tea.

"I can't tell you about being married to a demon, but I can tell you Daphne is a wonderful woman, a wonderful wife, and a damn fine mother...who happens to be able to take herself out of the normal stream of time on occasion. It's caused some problems over the years, I won't lie to you about that. Once the ring was on her finger, my career in the Council was more or less ended. I've been pushing papers for the past fifty years. If Rupert had a career with the Council anymore, I imagine it would be just as moribund as mine. So, perhaps it's for the best he doesn't work for them, after all."

Buffy nibbled a ginger snap thoughtfully.

"He's happier now," she said at last. "I know he was sort of freaked when he was fired, but he's so much more relaxed now. Plus, the end of the tweed era couldn't come fast enough for me. But I think he still misses it sometimes; being a Watcher for real." She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "I still can't believe he lied to me all this time. And I thought you said marrying a demon sorta ended your Watcher career. How did Rupert even get hired when he's actually part demon?"

"That, my dear, was magic."

"You...you mean you...." She wiggled her fingers to indicate spellcasting.

"Yes, I did. I bespelled the records so they would read that Rupert was my son from a...previous liason, and not actually related to Daphne. I hated to do it, but I couldn't let him pay the price for my folly. My family have been Watchers right back to the Twelfth Century. I had a bright, decent son who deserved his chance to carry on the family tradition."

"But he never wanted it."

"That isn't the point," he said gruffly. "Being Watcher is more than simply tradition: it's a calling; a responsibility. A way of life. Rupert may not have wanted it, but it's who he is."

"No, it's not. He's him. Not one of them."

"Really? Has he changed that drastically since he was fired?"

"Sure, he has. He got rid of all the tweed, and he sings now, and plays guitar..."

"He's been playing guitar since he was a boy. There's nothing new in his musical interests. Does he still insist on playing that wretched noise all those Seventies pop stars wrote? I never could understand his fascination with Punk Floyd, or whatever they called themselves."

"Pink Floyd. Yeah, not really my thing, either. But he's changed lots of ways since he got fired. His clothes, his hair, his fun new obsession with jogging..."

"All surface, Buffy. Has the core of him really changed?"

She thought about it for a long moment. No matter what changed about his clothes, no matter what songs he sang, there were certain things that held true no matter what.

"I - I guess you're right," she said at last. "He's still smart and kinda anal about the record-keeping. And he still puts me first."

"Which is what a good Watcher does. And what a good husband does."

"So you're saying I should just get over the lies and marry him, is that it?"

"Only you can answer that," he said gently. "Only you can decide how important appearances and lies are to you."

She laughed wryly to herself.

"Great. Another thing you two have in common: you give advice without giving any actual advice."

"Irritates the hell out of Daphne."

"She's not alone," Buffy grinned. She stood. "I guess I'd better go. I'm still in limbo about tomorrow, but I haven't canceled the rehearsal. Gotta make myself look pretty."

"At least that won't take long."

She blushed and headed for the door with Ernest escorting her. When they got there, she turned to him one last time.

"Look, I still don't know what's happening tomorrow, but for what it's worth, I get what you're saying. I just need to figure out what it means now. I'll see you soon."

She slipped out and headed for home.

*****

"Oh, thank goodness you're here!" Joyce exclaimed as her daughter walked in the front door. "I was beginning to worry you'd be late."

"Do I need to buy you a watch, young lady?" Xander asked with a raised eyebrow and a bemused grin.

"No, I was keeping an eye on the time," Buffy said evasively. "Wouldn't want to be late for this, would I?"

Before her mother or Xander could answer, she raced up the stairs to her room.

"Huh. That was strange," Joyce said. "I think something's bothering her. It's my Mom radar. Maybe I should go talk with her."

Xander steered her into the living room and sat her down on the sofa.

"I think maybe we should let her decide who she wants to talk to, Honey. You know the Buffster; she'll open up when she's good and ready, and not before. Anyone who tries to talk before then is liable to be hit. Being hit by Buffy is not fun. Trust me."

"But I should do something. I'm her mother."

"Okay, Joyce, I want you to think way back a few weeks ago to when you were nineteen. If you had a problem, who did you talk to? Your mother or your friends?"

She sighed in defeat.

"I know, I know. It's just so hard to let go. It's been my job description for almost twenty years."

"Yeah. Buffy knows that. She just needs to deal with whatever's on her mind her own way. Who knows, maybe she'll come to you tonight."

"But more likely, she'll go to Rupert."

"Who would you rather have me go to with my problems? My mom or my sexy wife?"

"Trust me, it'll be different once the baby's born. You'll understand when you have a daughter of your own to worry about."

An odd expression crossed his features.

"I already worry about her," he said quietly. "I worry about what she's gonna do with a dad who has no clue what he's doing. I worry about raising a kid on the Hellmouth - on purpose. And I'll tell you something else, Joyce, I've been worrying about Buffy for years. At first, I worried about why she wouldn't go out with me instead of Angel, but, y'know, things change. I just want to see her happy. She's earned it."

"Practice for fatherhood?"

"More like...in my First Slayer dream, she called me 'big brother'. I think that's what I really am to her. A big brother...who's younger and weaker and less experienced in all kinds of things, but still, a big brother sort of figure to her. Not literally, because that would lead to very, very bad problems with us and little Sproutina in there, but, you get what I mean, right?"

"Yes, Xander, I think I do," Joyce laughed.

"And she'll talk to someone when she's ready. Maybe even you, but don't get your hopes up. It'll probably be either Giles or Willow, and they're both really smart. Now, if you're dealing, I think I better see if I can get a shower before Buffy takes over the bathroom."

He kissed his wife and got up from the sofa.

"Xander?"

"Yeah, Honey? Did you want to thank me for my wisdom and amazing perception?"

"No. I think I need a hand up. I'm stuck in the couch."

*****

When Xander came downstairs, washed and dressed, he found Buffy sitting on the living room floor, staring into the fireplace.

"Hey, Xand," she said without looking in his direction.

"Hey. Deep thoughts?"

"And some shallow ones. Could I ask you something?"

He sat next to her.

"I'm all ears. We'll see if I become all mouth, or if this is something you should be talking to Will about."

"Actually, this is something I don't think Will can help me with. Well, maybe part of it, but I think I need to ask you."

"What do you need, Buff? Your friendly, neighborhood stepdad is on tap. Just keep in mind I don't do the lecture about the scary wedding night. For that...do whatever you've been doing and for the love of God, don't tell me what it is. You and Giles have both looked plenty happy."

"Thanks for that piece of advice that I really didn't need," Buffy said uncomfortably. "And don't talk about my sex life."

"I can do that," Xander nodded affably. "What's up?"

"How do you deal? With the whole May/December thing."

"Deal?" He shrugged. "I dunno. I just...do, I guess. I mean, it's not like Joyce is all gray-haired and I'm still in training pants. It doesn't really come up that much. There've been a few people who thought I was her son or something, but they don't really matter, do they? They don't know us, we don't know them, and if they want to whisper about what freaks we are, what do we care? It's their problem. You're not worried about what people think of you and Giles, are you?"

"Sometimes," she admitted. "Not when we're alone, or with you and Mom and Will, but sometimes. When waiters look at us funny, or people tell Rupert what a pretty daughter he has. Or when guys at school ask me if I don't think I'm a little old to hold my dad's hand in public. Doesn't that stuff ever bother you?"

"I guess I just don't notice it the way you do. I can be oblivious like that."

She smiled wryly.

"I wish I was good at oblivious sometimes."

"You are. Buffy, you can be one of the most oblivious people I know when you set your mind to it."

"Gee, thanks, I think."

"No, I mean it. You couldn't see anything wrong with dating Angel all that time. It didn't bother you that he was a vampire or that he was a couple hundred years older than you or that your friends didn't trust him the way you did. The way I see it, you can look past anything if you really want to."

"Well how do I look past the fact that Rupert's part demon?" she blurted out. "Oh God, I shouldn't have said that. Forget I said anything...."

"Why? How could I forget? What part? When did you find out?"

"I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't supposed to. Please, just forget about it, Xand, I'm begging you."

"Uh uh, Buff. Too late. I can't forget that. How long have you known?"

"Since this morning," she sighed. "Sort of a shock. His mom and dad swore him to secrecy years ago and he couldn't tell me before."

"And he didn't think this would come up when he asked you to marry him? That doesn't sound much like Giles."

"Umm...I'm sort of the one who proposed, and I wouldn't take no for an answer," she admitted. "I would have if he really didn't want to, but I could tell he did, so I was all stubborn and pushy. And withheld certain things he likes until he said yes."

"How long did it take him to crack under the pressure?"

"Less than a minute. There's a thing he really, really likes."

"Please don't ever tell me what it is," Xander said, turning slightly green.

"Anyway, it wasn't even his idea, and now this. I don't want it to bug me, but it does. And I know he said we could try to have a kid, but I don't see that really working out, and you and Mom are having a girl, so I'm not even the only...I...." She stopped, staring wide-eyed at her friend. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"About time you did," he shrugged. "Buff, you've been weirded out over the baby ever since your mom sprang the news. Did you think we wouldn't notice? Sibling rivalry is normal. It's in all the books. And in your case, chances are you won't have kids, I'm guessing. And even if you can, you're worried about what happens when some vamp gets lucky and has himself a Slayer snack and Giles the old guy is left alone to deal. Am I right, or am I right?"

She leaned against him.

"It shouldn't be that way," she whispered. "But I'm scared it will be. I never even put it in words before. I was too scared that would make it real."

"I wish I could make it unreal for you," Xander said as he wrapped an arm around Buffy's shoulders. "But you have to know that Giles knows the risks as well as you do. Better, even. And he still wants this."

"So what do I do? I'm all mixed up."

"Well, the way I see it, you've got two problems. There's the first one where you're still hung up on appearances, and there's the second one where you're freaking over the fact you might not ever get to have a kid."

"So which do I figure out first?"

He shrugged again and looked harder into the fire.

"I think you deal with the problem causing both those problems."

"Huh? You mean I have something else to cope with now? This is so not fair."

"No, I think it's really all one problem, Buff. It's that thing where you still want to be normal, and have a normal, boring life. Ever since day one, that's all you've thought about wanting for yourself, isn't it?"

"Is normal really so much to ask?"

"When you're the Slayer? Yeah. I think it might be. Hell, I can't even do normal and I'm the one with no super powers. Somehow, though, I ended up with a wife twice my age, a stepdaughter two months older than me who kills nasty bad things all night, and an ex-girlfriend who's an ex-demon. Face it, Buffy, weird happens around you."

"So it's my fault you and Will have screwed-up lives, too. Great."

"Maybe it is. But it's our choice to stick around and embrace the weirdness. We all have. Even Giles. If you can't...if you can't look in his eyes and say it's worth taking the chance, no matter what, then don't do it. Let him go tonight. But if you can, if you can just forget the white picket fence and accept that that's not going to be your life, then say that 'I do' loud and proud and go make your man happy." He hugged her a bit tighter. "He's a good guy. He's crazy about you. Hell, he's the only guy you've ever gone out with who I liked. If you have to break his heart, do it now."

He squeezed her shoulder one last time and got up.

"Xand?" she asked without looking up from the fire.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. You're gonna make a really good dad, you know that?"

"I am? How can you tell?"

She smiled up at him.

"Because you already are."

"That's not what Joyce said a little while ago."

Buffy looked puzzled.

"What happened?"

"Well, we were talking about what to name the baby, and she didn't like it when I suggested we call her Xena Gabrielle Ivanova Harris. I thought it was a cool name. Hey, maybe she'd like Deanna Uhura better. What do you think?"

"I think my mom named me Buffy. She doesn't have a leg to stand on." She frowned for a moment, then looked back at Xander. "Have you ever considered having all your friends put the names they like best into a hat and holding a drawing? It's gotta be better than anything either of you chooses in cold blood."