*****

"What!" Rupert Giles stared at the phone in shock.

"You heard me, Rupert. I can't take it anymore! He's coming to live with you." Julia's voice sounded tinny over the line, the overseas connection not exactly the best.

"Julia, this isn't exactly the best time. I *am* in the process of moving, you know."

"Look, Ru, he's your child too, and..." there was a hitching breath, "I just don't know what to do with him. I can't...I can't deal with this."

"Deal with what? Julia!"

"I put him on the plane this morning, he's scheduled to arrive at the airport in Portland tomorrow afternoon at 2:34." Julia's voice grew softer. "I'm sorry, Rupert. I hate to...foist him off on you like this. I know it's not convenient for you."

Rupert sighed, feeling a headache well up behind his eyes. "Julia...can't you at least tell me why? This *is* a bit of a shock, you know."

"I-I know. But I can't...I can't talk about it now."

"Great. Bloody great. Julia, I haven't even *seen* the boy since you took him and left me 8 years ago. We barely know each other! A few letters and the occasional phone call do not a father/son relationship make."

"Look, he *needs* you, Rupert. He needs his father! I can't be that for him. It's...it's best this way."

Rupert groaned, reaching for a pack of cigarettes. He tapped one out, lighting it up and taking a deep drag on it.

"You're smoking again, aren't you?"

"Bloody hell yes, I'm smoking! What do you expect from me?" Defiantly, he took another drag.

"I thought you quit."

"I did." He inhaled again, then stubbed the remainder out. "Julia, I'm due at my new post in a week. Couldn't this have waited a bit?"

"No!" Julia took a deep breath. "No, it couldn't. I'm sorry, Rupert. Truly I am. Besides, this will work out fine. You can get him enrolled at that school in...where was it you were going again?"

"Sunnydale, Julia. It's in southern California."

"That's right. Sounds like a splendid place, Ru. I'm sure he'll love it there."

"Julia..." Rupert hesitated, then continued, "I don't...I've not had much practice being a father, Jules. I don't know if I can do this."

"Have faith in yourself, Ru. You'll do fine." There was some muffled conversation in the background. "Rupert, I have to go now. I'm late for a meeting. Don't forget, 2:34!"

"Jules, I--" There was a click as the line disconnected. Groaning, Rupert dropped the phone, not bothering to hang it up. "Bugger it all," he muttered, looking around the shambles of his apartment. Packing boxes were stacked along the wall, waiting to be filled with the multitude of books and assorted knick-knacks he'd accumulated over the years of his stay in the states. "Bloody awful timing. Damn it!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Rupert made his way through the bustle of the airport. "Sorry," he muttered as he bumped into someone. "Oh pardon, do excuse me." He suppressed a snarl of annoyance. //Damned bloody Yanks!//

Finally, he made it through the crowd, and looked up at the listing of incoming flights. He couldn't hold back a groan when he saw that the flight he was waiting for was due to be about an hour late. He rubbed his temples tiredly. What with scrambling to get most of the packing done, then rushing to make it to the airport on time, he'd managed to build up quite the headache. And not, to top things off, he would be forced to wait in this...madhouse!

Sighing, he once more pressed through the crowd, heading over to the terminal where his son's plane was scheduled to arrive. He dropped down into a chair, staring uninterestedly at a television that he couldn't even hear due to the noise level around him. Still, it was something to do.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the plane arrived. Rupert stood, awaiting his son's exodus from the terminal. When he saw him, though, he stood in shock.

He had pictures, some of them quite recent. But in *none* of them did the boy look like *this*!

Quite frankly, the boy looked absolutely...wretched. His light brown hair hung limp and tangled, blue eyes were dim and appeared sunken due to the dark circles under them. Pale, thin form more suitable to a starving waif. He looked like someone's malnourished, abused puppy. One that had been tossed onto the street after being beaten.

//Christ, Julia. Why didn't you *say* anything?// Swallowing hard, he stepped forward.

The young man looked up, eyes flickering slightly in recognition. He gave a polite nod. "Da," he acknowledged rather impersonally.

Rupert nodded back. "W-William." There was an awkward pause, then he cleared his throat. "Well, best pick up your luggage, then."

*****
Part 2:

"Well, this is it. For the next few days, anyway. Sorry about the clutter." Rupert motioned for William to enter, and the boy did so, glancing around with only mild curiosity. "I suppose you can store your luggage out here; it would be rather pointless to unpack anything but the essentials."

William shrugged and hauled one of his bags across the room, dumping it unceremoniously against the wall. Rupert followed suit with the two smaller bags that he was carrying.

Rupert frowned at what really was a small amount of belongings for a sixteen year-old boy relocating to a new country. "Are these all your things?" he asked.

William settled himself into an armchair, curling his legs up under him. "Most of it," he answered briefly. "Mum..." he paused, jaw clenching. "Mum said she'd send the rest once I 'get settled'." He sneered as he mimicked her words.

"I see." He sighed. "Do you...want to talk about it?"

"No." William glowered at him, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Ah. All right then." Rupert nodded. "Well, I believe there's still a bit of food left in the kitchen, you're welcome to make yourself some tea if you wish. I just need to make a few calls." He walked slowly into his bedroom, fighting the urge to make a hasty escape. He closed the door an, picking up the phone, dialed a number that had become familiar with him over the last few weeks.

After a lengthy conversation with the manager at the apartment complex that he was moving to, he was able to change his lease to cover a two-bedroom place instead of the single bedroom apartment he'd originally signed for. The rent increase wasn't too terribly high, which was a relief, but thing were most likely going to be a bit more cramped than he'd planned.

Having completed his call, he left the bedroom, walking out to find William sitting at the table eating a bowl of tomato soup. The boy looked up as he approached.

"I, um, thought I'd get something to eat," he told Rupert quietly.

"Sensible idea. I'll join you." He fetched himself a bowl and filled it with the remainder of the soup. As he ate, he observed his son curiously. The boy looked positively exhausted, an impression emphasized by the giant yawn he was unable to hold back.

Rupert cleared his throat. "I'm sure the flight tired you out. Why don't you have a nap in the bedroom while I get back to packing up out here."

William nodded, picking up his now empty bowl and carrying it over to the sink. Yawning again, he shuffled into the other room.

Rupert shook his head. Finishing his own soup, he sighed and got back to packing.

~~~~~~~~~~

William flung himself onto the couch with a tired groan. His father joined him, handing him a steaming cup of tea. "Thanks."

Rupert nodded. "I must say, I forgot how tedious this moving business was. You were a great deal of help getting everything in here, William."

William blushed, looking at the floor.

Smiling, Rupert looked around his -- *their* new apartment. It had taken the better part of two days to get everything carried in, unpacked, and arranged satisfactorily. He'd also arranged to have another bed delivered for William's room, since he only had the one, and wasn't about to spend another night on the couch. "Well, we have almost a week before the school year starts. I suppose we'd best go in tomorrow to get you enrolled."

"Oh. Yeah." William didn't appear to be too enthusiastic about this. The prospect of starting over in a new school, where he didn't know anyone, was daunting. And if anyone ever found out about...

"William?"

He glanced back up at his father. "Yeah?"

"Your mother never mentioned exactly why she felt it best for you to come live with me. Did you want to talk about it yet?"

His face immediately closed off. "No," he replied bluntly.

"Ah. Well, then." He sat there uncomfortably, sipping his tea.

After a moment, William relented with a sigh. "Look, Da...it's just...I don't want to talk about it now, ok?"

"Of course. But William? Whenever you feel comfortable, I'm here to listen. I won't judge."

William snorted. He shifted on the couch, finally jumping to his feel. "I'm...I'm going to go to bed now. I'm still really tired."

Rupert nodded, and watched his son move quickly to his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. "What happened, William?" he whispered sadly.

*****
Part 3:

"Just meet me in the library after classes, all right?"

William nodded, then watched his father make his way through the bustle of people into the school. He stared down at the class schedule in his hand as he began to walk determinedly through the crowded halls. Not looking where he was going, he bumped into another student walking by, and his armload of books went cascading to the floor. He stammered out an apology to the girl, who shot him a dirty look before continuing on her way. With a sigh, William bent to gather his things.

A broad hand entered the scope of his vision, picking up one of his folders and handing it back. William took it gratefully, tilting his head up to thank his benefactor. He froze, tongue-tied.

"Got it? Hey, you're new here, aren't you? I'm Xander."

William gulped, staring fixedly at Xander as the other boy continued to hand him his scattered belongings.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Xander felt a twinge of worry as he received only a blank stare. He waved a hand in front of glazed eyes.

William blinked, then blushed furiously, wrenching his eyes away from Xander's face to stare at the floor as he fumbled around for the rest of his things. "Um, I'm W-William," he finally answered.

Xander grinned. "Cool accent."

They stood, and William fidgeted nervously as he avoided meeting Xander's gaze.

"Hey, need any help finding your classes? You look kinda lost."

"Oh, I...um, I was..."

"Here." Xander deftly plucked away William's schedule, scanning it. 'First period, History, room 126. That's just down the hall." He handed the schedule back, laying a hand on William's arm and guiding him to the right classroom. With another wide grin, he said, "Here you go. Good luck!"

William watched as Xander moved away, trying to get his breathing back under control. He looked down at his arm, which still burned with the impression of Xander's hand. He closed his eyes. //Not again. Don't let this be happening again.//

His eyes popped open again at the sound of a throat being cleared beside him. He flushed as he realized he was standing in the middle of the doorway, blocking it quite effectively. Quickly, he went inside, making his way over to an empty seat.

The bell for the end of class rang. While other students laughed and chatted with their friends as they exited, William quietly gathered his books together.

"Hi, you're new, aren't you?" came a bubbly voice next to him. "I'm Cordelia Chase." A slim hand was held out to him.

William took it hesitantly, giving it a quick shake. "William Giles," he answered.

"Oh, wow, you've got an accent! That is *so* cool! Where are you from?" Cordelia walked in step with him as he left the room.

"England."

"You know, I've always thought accents were sexy." She batted her eyelashes at William, who remained oblivious to her flirting. She frowned, but shrugged. "Well, the important thing to remember about coming to school here is, you gotta hang with the right people. You stick with me, and I can get you into the cool crowd. Otherwise, you might end up with the losers." Her smile became predatory. "Speaking of losers..."

William gave a small smile to the girl at the water fountain. It disappeared, though, as he listened to what Cordelia was saying.

"Willow. *Nice* dress! It's good to know you've seen the softer side of Sears." All this was said with the same smile plastered on her face.

William looked at Cordelia, confused.

Willow took a step back, glancing down at her dress. "Uh, we-well, my mom picked it out," she said timidly.

"No *wonder* you're such a guy magnet." Her expression turned nasty. "Are you done?"

Willow looked at the water fountain, then back at Cordelia. "Oh." She backed up, turning and hurrying away.

William frowned as he watched her go.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, turning to face William. "You wanna fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers. Once you can identify them all by sight, they're a *lot* easier to avoid," she said with a laugh.

William just stared at her, not quite believing what had happened. He shook his head. "Um, I...I have to be going. I don't want to be late."

"Oh. Sure. Maybe I'll see you at lunch then." Cordelia sighed as she watched him walk off, a dreamy expression on her face.

It was finally luchtime, and William made his way out to the courtyard. He spotted the girl from the fountain sitting nearby, and made his way over to her. "Um, hi. Willow, right?"

She looked up from her lunch, startled. "Why? I-I mean, hi. Uh, did you want me to move?"

"What? Oh, no." He moved around to the other side of her, sitting down. "I'm William, by the way."

"Hey, William."

"Actually, I was wondering if you might be able to help me with a few subjects. I'm not familiar with some of this, and I heard that you were the one to ask for help. For tutoring."

Willow brightened noticeably. "Oh, I could *totally* help you out. Like, if you have sixth period free, we could meet in the library."

"Ah." He looked away, uncomfortable.

"Is that not good? There's a new librarian this year, and he won't mind. He's really cool. I heard he used to be a curator at some British museum." She paused. "Or *the* British Museum, I'm not sure." She continued cheerfully, "But he knows *everything*, and he brought all these historical volumes and biographies, and am I the single dullest person alive?" She bit her lip.

"Oh, no. Not at all. I just...I already knew that."

"Really?"

"Um, yes. He's...well, he's my father."

Willow blinked. "Oh." Cocking her head, she said thoughtfully, "I guess that makes sense. You're both English, and new, and--"

"Hey, you guys busy? Are we interrupting? We're interrupting."

William caught his breath as the boy from earlier -- Xander -- hopped over the ledge to sit between him and Willow. He barely even noticed the other person who joined them.

"William, this is Jesse and that's Xander."

Xander smiled. "Aw, me and William go way back. Old friends, very close."

William tried not to imagine being 'very close' to Xander, forcing himself to focus. "Um, it's, uh, it's nice to meet you."

Jesse sat. "You know, we wanted to welcome you, make you feel at home...unless you have a scary home."

William sat there, bemused.

Xander leaned in closer. "So, tell us about yourself. What do you do for fun?"

Jesse broke in, "Do you have any dark, painful secrets you'd like us to publish?"

William could almost feel the blood drain from his face. "Um...no. Nothing very interesting at all. Really."

Rupert looked up from his books. "Ah, William, you're early. Done already?"

William shook his head. "No Da, I have this period free, I'm meeting someone here to study. Willow."

"Willow. Yes, delightful girl. Quite intelligent too, so I've heard." He smiled at his son fondly. "Do I detect a bit of interest, here?"

William's face closed off. "No." He frowned, stepping away from his father.

Rupert blinked. "Oh. Well, I didn't mean to offend you. I simply thought that you might appreciate a bit of privacy."

"And why would you think that?" William asked harshly, eyes narrowed. "You don't know anything about me."

"Well it's certainly not for lack of trying on my part. You can be remarkably uncommunicative when it suits you." Rupert couldn't fathom what had gotten the boy so worked up.

"What do you want me to tell you?" William hissed angrily. "You want to hear all my deep, dark secrets? Want to know all about *why* I don't want 'a bit of privacy' with Willow? With any girl?" He panted, fingers clenched hard on the books in his hands. "Shall I tell you about how I'd rather dream of all the cute boys I've seen today? Is that what you want to hear? That your son fancies blokes?" He snorted. "Why the bloody hell do you think Mum washed her hands of me?!" He slammed his books down and spun around, stalking out of the library.

Rupert stood there for a moment, astounded. Shaking himself, he hurried after his son. "William..."

As the doors swung shut, Xander crept out from between some stacks of books. He stared at the door, eyes wide. "Woah," he whispered.

*****
Part 4:

William sat on the couch, bouncing his leg nervously. He knew he was in trouble. Besides the fact that he'd sworn at his father, he'd also ditched the rest of school, hurrying back to the apartment before he managed to break down and start bawling in public.

Oh yeah. He was in trouble. He just hoped his father wasn't the type to get too 'physical' with his punishments. Although, his mother did seem to be drawn to that sort of man...

He gulped hard as he heard the doorknob turn, cringing down into his seat. He would have hidden out in his room, but experience told him that doing so usually only got him in even more trouble.

With a weary slump to his shoulders, Rupert entered his apartment. He hadn't been able to catch up with William after the boy's...announcement and subsequent departure from school grounds, and had been forced to return to the library for the remainder of the school day. He could only hope William had decided to come home instead of running off somewhere.

He glanced around, briefly closing his eyes in relief when he saw a tuft of hair peeking up over the top of the sofa. He straightened, calmly making his way across the room, were he set his briefcase down on the floor. He stared at William for a long moment, not saying a word.

William slouched down even further under the weight of his father's stare. He brought his knees up, wrapping his arms around them and partially hiding his face. He refused to look up.

Rupert sat at the other end of the sofa, steepling his fingers together in front of his face as he calmly regarded his son. "Well," he began softly, "I really do think we should talk now."

William ducked his head down even more, tousled hair hiding his face from view. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.

Sighing, Rupert reached out to brush the hair away from William's face, freezing when the boy flinched violently away from him. "I'm not going to hurt you," he assured the boy in a soft tone before gently completing the movement, exposing William's pale face. "William...talk to me. Please."

Sniffling, William shrugged slightly. "'Bout what?" he muttered.

Rupert smiled. "I don't know. How about your mother? Or if you'd rather, what about how your classes went." He chuckled lightly. "Maybe you'd like to tell me about all the cute boys you met today." He had certainly been surprised, to say the least, by the revelation of his son's...inclinations. But he wasn't about to let a thing like that interfere with his relationship with the boy.

William flushed. "I...I didn't mean..." He sniffled some more as tears welled up in his eyes. "I can't help it," he told Rupert in a broken voice. "I-I *try* not to, but I can't..." He gasped in a lungful of air. "And Mum, she found out, and went off her rocker, and I wasn't even *doing* anything. We just kissed a little because I wanted to try it, and he was really cute and he liked me, and then she saw us, and-and..." He swiped a hand across his runny nose. "I just..." His voice was a mere whisper, laced through with dejection. "I didn't want you to hate me too, Da."

Determinedly, Rupert scooted closer to William, pulling the unresisting boy into his lap, arms wrapped firmly around him. "I don't hate you, William. Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you."

William relaxed against him, burrowing his face into the fabric of his coat. "You're not...disgusted? That I'm q-queer?"

"Your...your sexual preferences, whatever they may be, have no bearing on how I feel about you. I may not have a lot of expertise in parenting, but I'm certainly not going to-to put conditions on my love for you."

"You...love me?"

Rupert snorted. "Of course I do. And I won't have you talking about yourself like there's something wrong with you, understood?"

William nodded, smiling tremulously. "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm glad we have that settled." He continued to hold his son, rocking ever so slightly. After a moment, he tilted William's face up, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks. "So," he said with a smile. "What's all this about cute boys?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Lunchtime again. William sighed in relief, glad for the break from classes. It was only his second day here, and it was lasting a lifetime. At least he felt somewhat more comfortable around his father, now that his big secret was out. He couldn't believe how calm and understanding Rupert had been, especially since his mother had ranted, raved, and practically disowned him when she'd walked in while he and Brian were...experimenting. It's not like they'd even had any clothes off or anything!

"William!"

His head jerked around, and he saw Willow waving at him, smiling cheerfully. With a matching grin, he made his way over to her, pulling out his lunch as he sat down. "Willow. Um, sorry about yesterday, I--"

"Oh, no problem. Mr. Giles...I mean, your dad, he said you went home early 'cause you weren't feeling well. That's totally understandable. We can make up for it today...I mean, if that's good for you. Is that good for you?"

"That's fine. Thanks." There was something about Willow's perky babbling that drew him in, making him feel at ease. His eyes sparkled happily as he watched her gesture emphatically as she spoke. Once he realized that she didn't even really need a response, he took a bite of his sandwich, nodding as he listened intently.

"Hey, and we meet again!" Jesse jogged up to them, flopping down into an empty seat. "Oh god, you will never believe it. She talked to me. *Cordelia* actually talked to me!" He sighed, a dreamy smile fixed on his face.

"I don't think 'You're standing in front of my locker, loser' actually counts as conversation, man." Xander joined them, ducking the swat Jesse aimed his way. "Hey guys," he said to the others.

William swallowed his mouthful of food hastily. "H-hi Xander," he replied, a slight flush staining his cheeks. He ignored the strange look Xander gave him, fixing his gaze on the remainder of his sandwich.

Xander shook himself. "So, who's up for a night at the Bronze?"

"Bronze?" William looked up at him questioningly. //Oh god, he's got such beautiful eyes...//

Xander blinked, momentarily frozen by the clear blue eyes that seemed to gaze at him...adoringly? He looked away, clearing his throat. "Y-yeah. Um, it's uh, it's a club across town. *The* club. It's pretty cool."

"Yeah, they've got great music."

"I'm up for it." Willow brushed her hair behind her ears, grinning at William. "So? Gonna join us?"

"Oh. Well, I'll have to ask my father, but...it's sounds like fun." He peeked over at Xander from beneath his bangs.

Xander swallowed. "Well, on that note, there's, uh, this...thing that I'm...supposed to be doing. "So...catch you later!" He stood, quickly making his way back into the building, oblivious to the startled looks his hasty exit prompted. He was too caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts.

//He was looking at me. Not, like, normal looking. Like, the way Jesse looks at Cordelia. And he's gay. And he keeps watching me. And he's gay. And he's always blushing when I'm around. And he's *gay*.// He leaned against a wall, dragging in deep, calming breaths.

//Chill out, Xand-man. You're probably just imagining things. And so what if he *was* checking you out? You're a very handsome guy, totally worth checking out. It's not like he's gonna jump you.// Xander frowned. //I don't think.// He shrugged. //Besides, if he were a girl, I'd *definitely* be doing some checking out in return. He's got great eyes. And those pouty lips that girls would kill for. And the cutest ass, all tight and curvy and--Ah! I was not looking at his ass!// He banged his head back against the wall.

//I am *so* not thinking about a guy's ass. Oh god, what's wrong with me?// He let out a tiny whimper. //Control, Xander. Get yourself under control. Girls. Soft, bouncy, gropable girls. And breasts! We like breasts, don't we?// He straightened, scolding himself harshly. //No more checking out of male anatomy. Even if you do want to find out just how soft his hair really is.// He smacked himself, drawing several odd glances from nearby students.

Chuckling nervously, he resumed his trek down the halls. //Girls. Lots and lots of girls...//

*****