Sandy Places Overseas
by Wolfling and James Walkswithwind
Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine  Part Ten  Part Eleven  Part Twelve  Part Thirteen  Part Fourteen  Part Fifteen 

Part One  

"Do I need to take a windbreaker?" Xander popped back into the living
room, holding said jacket. 

Giles looked up from the book he was reading. "Didn't you pack one
already?"

"I packed my duster, but I thought if it's warm but rains, I might want a
cooler warm jacket. Or I could pack another long-sleeved shirt. Flannel?"
He had no idea how Giles could be so calm. OK, yes, so Giles had packed
last night, swiftly, easily, and now had a total of two bags sitting by the
door.

But Giles had *done* this before. How was he supposed to know if he'd
need a jacket or a coat or his boots as well as his sneakers-- boots! He
went back to his room and stared at his allotted two bags. Was there space
for boots?

Maybe what he needed was bigger bags. 

He headed out to ask, then remembered what Giles had said about a weight
allowance. Maybe if he *wore* his boots, and packed his sneakers, then. 
He sighed. Willow hadn't ever told him about this part of vacations.

"It isn't the end of the world if you forget something, you know." Xander
looked up to see Giles standing in the doorway. "They do have clothes in
England."

"Yeah, but there's no reason to buy something I already own, because I
forgot to pack it." 

His guardian smiled faintly. "Forgetting to pack it would be the reason."

Xander shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm right here, now. Might as well pack it
than forget it."

"It's not worth stressing out over, though."

"I won't forget anything," he assured Giles, as he checked the first bag
for room for his sneakers.

Giles' hand landed on his shoulder. "Xander. Leave it be for a moment."

"Buffy and Willow and Oz are gonna be here in half an hour. I just wanna
make sure I have everything." He tried to remember what grandmum had said
about the weather -- he'd called her again yesterday morning, still trying
to translate British slang for Californian, to determine what sort of
clothing would be needed. He remembered his panic when he'd found out only
three days ago that he'd need a set of dress clothes, and had had to
completely re-pack.

He tried again to find room for his sneakers. He didn't mind wearing his
boots the entire month, really. But they might get hot.

"Xander." Giles gently pulled him away. 

"What?" He let himself be distracted for the moment. He'd leave the
sneakers, then. He could deal with a month of boots or dress shoes. Or -
maybethere was room in his carry-on! Yeah, that would work.

"It's all right," Giles repeated. "It doesn't matter if you forget
something."

"I'm not going to forget anything," he repeated. Why didn't Giles believe
him?

"Except your sanity if you keep stressing like this."

Xander gaped at him. "Stressing? I'm not *stressing*! I'm packing. 
Trying to, anyway."

"You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."

"Well, then, I'd have to pack that, too, wouldn't I?" Xander stopped, and
wondered if this might not be easier if he just told him.

Giles was looking at him, eyes full of concern and worry.

"I'm just not used to going on vacation," he offered. Then he looked
away. He knew what he was stressing over, and knew Giles would see it
written all over his face. He hated that everything in his life could be
dragged back to things his parents had done. One would think flying to
England would be far enough away that they wouldn't matter.

A hand touched the side of his face, turning his head back to face Giles.
"There's more to it than that."

"I just used to get in trouble when I forgot things, when I got to go to
my grandmother's for a few days or a week, sometimes. But I have time to
remember everything, now, so I don't want--"

"Xander. You're not going to get in trouble if you forget something."

"I know," he said quickly, but frustrated that Giles didn't seem to get
it. "But I won't forget anything." 

"Then you're a better man than me. I always forget something."

"You should plan better." Xander winced as he heard what he'd said. God,
he even *sounded* like his father. "I'm sorry," he managed, quietly.

"It's all right."

Xander stared at him, trying to decide. He had every reason to think it
would be OK-- but thinking that made him suddenly want to say nothing at
all. "Would.. if I told you...." 

"You can tell me anything," Giles said softly.

With a glance down at his bag, still partly open with a tiny spot squished
into it for half a shoe, Xander stepped forward, tentatively.

Giles held his arms open. It didn't take a second for Xander to settle
himself safely in those arms. It made it harder to talk, though, and for a
while he could only stand there. Giles didn't seem to mind, remaining
silent and just holding him.

"He didn't just hit me, when he was mad. When I'd really messed up, and
it wasn't just him being drunk, he'd--" Like when he'd not packed his
toothbrush, after having been told twice to do so. Wouldn't go to the
store and spend sixty cents on another toothbrush, he could just goddamn
well do without and everyone would just have to wonder why the little boy
had bad breath all weekend. 

The arms holding him tightened briefly, but Giles remained silent, giving
him as much time as he needed to get the words out.

Xander skipped over some of it, details he didn't want to hear, himself. 
"I tried to remember, the next time. I really did. But I always managed
to forget something, and he'd tell me how stupid I was that I couldn't even
pack. Then grandmother died and it didn't matter because we never went
anywhere else." He breathed the last words out, a false sense of it being
over filling his lungs for the moment.

Giles was still silent for a moment and when he did speak it wasn't what
Xander expected. "I'll buy you a toothbrush."

Startled, Xander jerked back. "I didn't say--" No, he hadn't said it
aloud, he realized. Rather, he *had* forgotten it. Feeling the blood rush
from his face, he pulled himself out of Giles' embrace and headed for the
bathroom.

He *was* an idiot. He'd packed everything else -- even toothpaste. When
he came back to his room carrying his toothbrush, Giles was still standing
there waiting. He stalked over to his bag, embarrassed and angry with
himself. Giles had obviously *known* he'd forgotten it. And hadn't said
anything. He unzipped the little bag and slid his toothbrush in.

"You're angry."

"Yeah, well, I used to only forget something once. This makes twice. 
You'd think I'd learn." He rezipped the bag, shoved it back into the
duffel. 

"Learn what exactly?" Giles' voice was gentle.

"To not forget to pack my toothbrush." He'd had a bruise on his cheek all
that weekend, too, which his mother had explained away as 'boys, they're
always doing *something*.' 

"What would happen if you did?"

Xander stared at the floor. "I'd prove he was right." 

He heard Giles leave, but before Xander could react, he was back, carrying
his own bag. Xander frowned, and watched. Giles sat the bag down on
Xander's bed and opened it. He pulled out his small bag of toiletries and
out of that, his toothbrush.

"Um, I just packed mine, I don't think I need yours. Unless this is a
lesson complete with visual aids? How not to forget a toothbrush?"

"Actually, if it's anything, it's a lesson on how *to* forget a
toothbrush." Giles repacked the toiletries bag and then made a brief trip
to the bathroom to put the toothbrush away.

Confused, Xander asked, "So now, what?" What was Giles trying to pull? 

"Nothing."

He narrowed his eyes. "So when they get here to take us to the airport,
you're gonna repack it, and prove what? Exactly?"

"I'm not going to repack it."

He mulled this over. Then shook his head. "I don't get it. So your
parents think *you* forgot your toothbrush? Instead of me, except I just
packed mine?"

"What do you think is going to happen?" Giles asked softly.

"Your mom'll give you a hard time about getting old?"

"No," his guardian answered with a faint smile, before his expression
turned serious again. "She'll get me another one."

"And when she asks you why you forgot it, and you tell them about this
'Xander isn't stupid' object lesson?" He knew Giles was trying to make him
see something that he was, thus far, missing.

Giles shook his head. "She isn't going to ask why. That's the point."

Xander rubbed his nose, wondering if Giles' point was supposed to mean....
"So your parents won't care if you forget your toothbrush." 

"No, they won't. I would be very surprised if they even mention it."

He fidgeted for a bit, trying to decide if he wanted to risk asking if he
were right. "They won't think you were an idiot?"

Giles shook his head. "No."

"But--" He heard the words in his head, surprised he was thinking them,
not surprised he asked anyway, once the words were on his tongue. "But
what if they don't like me? If I do something else stupid and--"

"You won't." Giles moved closer and laid his hands on Xander's shoulders.
"You're not going to screw this up, Xander. You can't."

He laughed. "You haven't see me at my worst. You thought last spring was
bad?" He had an aunt and uncle and cousins right here in Sunnydale, whom
he never saw. Who avoided he and his parents -- all because of something
stupid Xander had done when he was a toddler. His father had been drunk,
again, but *he'd* started the fire, and he remembered having done so
deliberately. Even if he didn't remember why.

He knew why he'd hit his younger cousin, though, at her fourth birthday
party. His aunt had told his mother that if she couldn't control her child,
just don't bring him around anymore.

"You think there's anything you can do to change my feelings for you?" 
There was a rough edge to Giles voice, as if he was holding back some
powerful emotions.

Xander shook his head. "This isn't about how you feel. They don't really
know me, yet. They're gonna see me constantly for a month, and I don't
think I can not screw up for that long." 

"You have, here. And even if you do screw up, it won't matter. They'll
still accept you."

In a tiny voice, he protested, "But that doesn't mean they'll like me."

"They already do, Xander. My mother-"

"Hasn't talked to me for more than an hour. Even I can be good that long."

Giles sighed. "What can I say to convince you?"

A fair question, unfortunately one with no real answer. "Just...don't
leave me alone with them, OK? Until--I know if they do."

Pulling Xander into his arms again, Giles nodded. "I promise."

This time, settling into Giles' embrace had an entirely different feel of
safety to it. This time, he actually felt himself relaxing, a little. 
"You can pack your toothbrush, if you want."

"You sure?"

Xander nodded against Giles' shoulder. "Unless you really want a new,
English one."

He felt as well as heard Giles' chuckle. "I think I can make do with an
American one."

Xander tightened his hold on Giles, clasping his hands together to stay
where he was, for as long as he could. He felt like a little kid --
wouldn't be surprised if he hid behind Giles when they arrived in London.

He remained nestled there for a few moments further. Then, reluctantly,
he pulled away. "I promise not to...freak out too much on our vacation,"
he offered weakly.

"It's all right if you do. We both know you're not doing it on purpose."

At that, he managed to grin a little. "You mean I *can't* do it on
purpose?"

"If you drank enough soda, I'm sure you could."

Xander scoffed, and some of the light-heartedness he was faking, began to
actually feel real. "I don't need *soda* to freak out. All I need is a--
oh, that would be telling." He grinned, and returned his attention to his
backpack. Unzipping it, he realized he could fit his sneakers in if he
left a couple of books behind.

"Chocolate," Giles guessed.

Xander grinned harder. "Nope. Well, yeah, that too. But not the thing I
was not going to tell you about." He pulled one book out, and tried
rearranging things. 

Idly, Giles picked up the sneakers and packed them in his bag.

"Oh, that works," Xander said casually -- faked casually, mostly. He put
the book back in-- "Hey! I have room for a Stonyman paperback!" 

His guardian rolled his eyes, but still wore a faint smile.

"Oh, and you didn't stick three paperbacks in *your* carry-on, one of
which is that 'Allison Drake'--"

"Did I say anything?"

"Yes. You rolled your eyes. You-" He stopped himself before he said
'have very expressive eyes'. "You said 'oh for god's sake, I thought he
was going to be a scholar, and instead he's reading this drivel.'"

"I said all that, did I?" Giles sounded amused.

Xander nodded, as he managed to stuff two paperbacks into the backpack. 
"And there was a short commentary on the energy with which I bounced back
from freaking out so thoroughly, and a rather long beseeching for the
strength to endure being stuck on an airplane with a hyper-active teenager."

"I must have eloquent eyes."

Xander snapped his jaw shut. Then he stammered, "I just have way too much
practice at seeing that look." He had no idea if he'd just gotten himself
out of, or deeper into, where he didn't want to go. He finished his
re-packing quickly, and grabbed his bags. "Are you sure we can't take
Willow with us? She makes a good valet."

"Maybe next time." Giles picked up his own and they headed out of the room.

"I promised to bring her back something English." Xander concentrated on
Willow, on the gifts she'd asked for -- and not the look he'd seen in
Giles' eyes. After he'd rolled them in exasperation. He plastered an
innocent look on his face and asked, "You think they'll have anything like
that in the shops?"

"Oh, I sincerely doubt it," Giles answered deadpan. 

"Bummer. Guess I'll have to buy something here, at the airport."

"I'm sure we can work in one or two shopping trips while we're there."

"I've already been assured that your mother turns into a shopping demon,
whenever you visit." Xander looked over, and grinned as the front door
opened, and Willow, Buffy and Oz came in. "Hey! The chauffeurs, right on
time. Or early," he added after glancing at his watch.

Willow grinned at him. "We wanted the time to say good-bye properly."

"You wanted time to make sure we weren't leaving anything in the freezer
that would spoil, like the rest of the chocolate pecan swirl ice cream." 
Xander gave her a knowing look.

"Oo! There's ice cream?" Buffy asked.

"With Xander in the house?" Giles shook his head. "We bought some
yesterday and it was gone last night."

Buffy pouted at him. "Hey!" Xander protested. "Who was it that had a
second bowl right along with me?" He looked at Giles -- then turned his
accusation towards Willow.

"It was a small bowl," she protested.

Xander held out his hands, indicating the size of the bowl.

"That was your bowl," she said.

"And yours. Don't try to deny it, Will. You ate just as much as I did. 
Until you left, when I ate more, but that isn't what we're discussing,
now." He gave Giles a short glare to encourage the unsuccessful way the
other man was stifling a laugh. 

Willow mock-frowned at him. "Behave or we won't give you your going away
present."

"I get a present?" He spotted the bag she was holding. "Oo! Presents!" 

Willow handed over the bag with a smile. He opened it, peering inside. 
It was something fuzzy. Not moving, which was a bonus. Pulling it out, he
blinked at it.

"Isn't he cute?" Buffy reached over and rubbed the thing's head. Xander
just gave Willow a confused look.

"To guard your dreams while you're away," she explained.

Xander stared at the stuffed wolf in his hands. He had no idea what to
say that wouldn't embarrass *everyone* here. He wanted to grab Willow and
tell her thank you -- ask her how she knew he was worried about having bad
dreams when he wouldn't have the freedom to sneak into Giles' bed. Instead
he grinned at her, gave Oz a sidelong look. "A wolf?"

She blushed. "I like wolves."

Oz smiled at her, reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. Then he said
to Xander, "Wolves are very protective of their pack, you know. Very
fierce."

Willow nodded. "And we're kinda a pack -- the scooby gang, I mean."

"Does that mean you're all gonna sleep with me when I have bad dreams?"
Xander joked -- realizing only after he said it that no one was going to
find it funny. He smiled, anyway.

"Nah," Buffy answered breezily. "Your bed isn't big enough."

"We could put down sleeping bags in the living room," Oz suggested. 
Xander couldn't tell if he was serious, or joking. Or both. 

Breezily, he said, "You can take turns. Buffy, if we go alphabetically--"

"Xander, I love you, but I'm not going to bed with you."

Xander pouted at her. 

She grinned. "Besides, what would Bork say?"

"Please keep in mind as you answer that, that your guardian is in the
room," Giles put in.

Xander opened his mouth, closed it, then thought for a moment. "That
would mean I can't mention the orgy...."

"Good call."

"Or the photos."

Giles gave him a Look.

"I am *definitely* not mentioning the roof." 

**********

Part Two


Xander bounced in his spot as the pretty steward took his and Giles'
boarding passes. All his life, he'd never thought he'd get to fly on an
airplane -- and now, here he was going across the Atlantic ocean. He
almost wished Willow were going with them, so he could taunt her right away
about his trip -- except if she went with, there would be no excuse to
taunt her. Xander wasn't sure that would stop him.

He would call her tonight -- tomorrow morning, yesterday afternoon... he
wasn't really sure, despite all the calls they'd made to England already. 
Not like Willow would care. He could call at 2 in the morning just to
babble about the plane ride, and she would just get as excited as he.

He'd have to call her, if only to give Giles a break. As he glanced over
and saw the look of patient amusement, he *knew* that twelve hours from now
Giles would be ready to hand him over to the first person they met. 

Xander grinned. He was going to belong to the Customs Official, if he
weren't careful.

Giles smiled back. "Would you like the window seat?"

He gave Giles a brief, hurt look. "You mean you were gonna *not* give me
the window seat?"

"It depended on whether you wanted it. You could've found it..."

"Boring? Repetitive? Vertigo-inducing?" Xander unsubtly moved ahead of
Giles as they approached the plane. 

"I see now it was silly of me."

Xander shrugged. "If I decide I don't want the window seat, I'll just
make you switch with me." 

Giles just smiled at him again and gestured him into the seat.

"Hey! Why are these seats so big?" Xander moved into the seat nearest the
window, tucking his backpack onto his lap as he twisted around, trying to
still see everything from his now-limited vantage. 

"They are usually this size in first class," Giles replied settling in
next to him.

"We're in first class?" Xander turned to him, gauged his sincerity --
which, of course, was bolstered by the fact that it *looked* like first
class. Then he craned his head back around, scooting up to get one knee on
the seat so he could peer over the other seats. "Don't we get champagne or
something in first class? I saw it in a movie once -- or was that when the
plane was going down and they wanted to distract everyone?"

"We'll get drinks -- and food. You're too young for champagne."

"But I'm sitting in first class!" Xander pouted. He realized, suddenly,
that he sounded like Spike. Want my creature comforts and I want 'em now. 
The pout was his, too, he suspected. Surely he'd never pouted this much
before having it inflicted on him on such a regular basis. 

Thinking about Spike threatened to remind him of last night's going away
party, and he frantically tried to think of other things. Maybe they'd
crash, and he wouldn't think about Spike's moans--

Giles' voice was interrupting those thoughts. "Considering what happened
the last time you imbibed-"

Xander slammed his jaw shut. He hadn't intended to bring *that* up. He
turned back around, and looked out the window. The ground crews were
moving around, and he wondered what they were doing. 

He could feel Giles' eyes on him, watching, studying, weighing. "Perhaps
one glass."

"They'll card me," he pointed out. He saw something approaching,
recognized it as the baggage truck. He watched, hoping to catch a glimpse
of his and Giles' bags. Grinned as he saw the handlers throw the bags onto
the ramp with an ease that would make faint-hearted passengers worry for
their belongings. 

Xander knew it was simply the only way to load lots of heavy stuff, as
quickly as possible. Didn't know why he knew. He pictured the handlers
loading a long box, not knowing there was a sleeping vampire inside, and
stifled a laugh. 

Spike had *offered* to come along.

He tuned back in in time to hear Giles say "-have a bit of mine."

"Does champagne taste any good?"

"You'll have to decide for yourself."

Willing to be mollified by the offer, Xander managed to maintain some
semblance of calm -- for two minutes. Then he saw a plane taxing past. 
"Look!" He pressed his face against the window. 

Giles chuckled and clasped a hand to his shoulder affectionately.

"It's taking off," Xander explained, leaning closer to the window to watch
as it moved past his line of sight. There was another one on a different
runway, coming in for a landing. "I've never seen tires that big."

"There are rather large, aren't they?"

"Giles...." He'd asked Willow, and not understood a word she'd said. 
Maybe Giles would do better.

"Yes?"

"How does the plane stay in the air?"

Giles blinked. "Um, well...didn't they teach you that in physics?"

"I think that was February. It was on one of the tests I flunked."

"Ah. I believe it has to do with the shape of the wings and the way the
air moves over them. It creates a change in air pressure that holds the
plane up."

"Air?" Xander looked at him. "You're telling me *air* holds the plane up?"

"What else is there?" Giles spread his hands.

Xander looked outside -- at the air. "Um, I hate to tell you this -- but
the airplane weighs more than air."

Giles pulled out a dollar bill and handed it over. "Hold it out in front
of you by the short end."

He gave Giles a look that communicated clearly his opinion of his
guardian's sanity, he accepted the dollar, and did as instructed.

"Blow across the top of it."

"Why?"

"It's a demonstration."

"Of...?"

"Are you going to do it?"

"All right, all right." Xander brought the bill to his mouth, and blew. 
"Hey!" He pulled the bill away, looked at it, then brought it back to try
again. "How'd it *do* that?"

Giles smiled. "The same way that air holds up a plane."

He studied the dollar bill, held it up and blew again -- and *again* the
bill rose. "But I'm blowing over the *top*. Shouldn't it go down?" He
gave Giles a look. "It's magic, isn't it? Airlines employ sorcerers and
you just don't wanna admit it."

"I'll find you a text book when we get to England if you'd like."

Xander narrowed his eyes. "There are textbooks with levitation spells in
them, too, you know. Besides, it's in my physics book...I think." He
brought the bill up one more time. It still worked.

"Then you don't need me to get you a book."

"You can get me a book on radioscopy."

Giles gave him another smile. "Radioscopy, hmm?"

"It's Buffy's fault." He slipped the bill into his pocket, then went back
to staring out of the window, hiding his grin. 

The question he was expecting next, came. "And how is it Buffy's fault?"

Xander hid his grin, looked back at Giles, and opened his mouth. Then
closed it. Then opened it again, closed it, then asked, "Isn't this one of
those things you don't actually want to know?"

He watched Giles' eyes narrow. "Is it?"

Squirming slightly, he pretended to think about it. "I think you'd be
happier," he finally admitted.

"Except now you'll have to tell me because I won't be able to stop
thinking about it."

"You can't just take my word for it?" Xander let himself grin. "Think of
all the nights' sleep that won't get disrupted, worrying about what I'm
doing with Buffy...."

"Too late."

He schooled his expression into one of grave seriousness. Or as close as
he could get. "She wants to see into--this isn't gonna get *her* into
trouble, will it?"

"No promises." 

Xander narrowed his eyes. "You're getting grouchy, again."

One of Giles' eyebrows shot upwards. "Grouchy?"

"Yeah. The first year you were here, you were grouchy. You tried to act
like it was just normal reserve and formality due a Watcher and teacher and
all that. But you were grouchy. Being with me has really loosened you up."

Giles looked at him with a strange expression. "It's done more than that."

"Yeah, but now you're starting to get grouchy again," Xander repeated, not
wanting to think about -- or ask -- what Giles meant. "I think you need a
vacation from...being the grown-up."

"I'm not sure that's possible, Xander," Giles replied with laughter.

"I got to," Xander said, surprising himself at the seriousness of his
words.

"You're supposed to at your age." Giles' smile became more sober in
response to Xander's tone.

"Yeah, but I got into less trouble," he said, thoughtfully. "More
punishment, but less actually doing anything wrong."

"It wasn't so much punishment, as providing structure."

Xander blinked at him, utterly baffled. "Structure? You call *that* --
oh. You mean *you*."

"I'm talking about what I was trying to do." He reached out and brushed a
lock of hair off of Xander's forehead. "I wasn't trying to punish you, just
make sure you didn't make the same mistakes again."

"So I could concentrate on making new and more interesting mistakes?" He
suddenly jolted. "We're moving!" He looked back out the window. "We're
moving!"

The intercom came alive then as the flight attendants ran through the
standard safety speech about seatbelts, emergency exits and such. Xander
tried to concentrate on listening, but he was too distracted. Granted,
there wasn't much to *see* outside -- just the tarmac, moving slowly by. 

But they were *moving*. He turned around and gave a surprised Giles a
quick, hard hug.

"What's that for?" Giles asked, automatically returning it.

"For this."

"You're welcome." The arms around him tightened.

Then he began bouncing again. The plane was picking up speed.

***********************

Xander stayed glued to the window until nearly an hour later -- the ground
was far enough away that he couldn't see anything besides color. He
finally leaned back and glanced over to find Giles watching him.

"Enjoying yourself?" Giles smiled indulgently.

"It's *cool*! You sure you don't wanna look?" He'd asked Giles four
times, already, if he didn't want to swap seats for a few minutes. The
last time he'd asked, he'd noticed Giles was beginning to get that 'trapped
with a hyper teenager' look of forced-patience in his eyes. Xander bounced
in his seat. "Because you can't see much, now."

"It's all right. I've done this before. Once or twice."

"Back and forth to England?"

"From America? Yes. Among other places." He stretched a little, settling
more comfortably into his chair.

"Where?" Xander shifted in his seat, away from the window -- it was only
clear blue right now, and that he could see at home. "Anyplace fun?"

Giles considered. "Well I'd suppose it would depend on your definition of
fun."

"Oh. Watcher business?" Xander considered that it might not be something
Giles would want to talk about -- since he hadn't ever, before. Except he
wanted to know. "Where'd you go?"

"Egypt for one. And it was only marginally related to Watcher business."

"Egypt? For real? You've actually been to Egypt?" Xander found himself
about to bounce again, and held himself still so Giles wouldn't get
distracted by telling him he couldn't have a second soda.

Giles nodded, his smile getting even more indulgent. "I went during the
winter break my last year at university."

"Oh, so you weren't there very long?" He didn't know why that
disappointed him. Unless -- "Did you ever want to go back? Did you see
any Pyramids? Or the Sphinx? Or the Grugenhil? Do you speak Egyptian or do
they speak anything else, there?" 

"I was there two weeks and yes, I saw all the usual sights. I have a
smattering of Arabic, enough I was able to get by. As for wanting to go
back..." Giles glanced at him again. "perhaps, if it was to show it to
someone else."

This time he let himself bounce. "Really? We could go to Egypt? Did you
like it there? I've only ever seen a movie made in Egypt, not counting the
Indiana Jones movies and I don't think they really count since they're set
several decades ago, but the movie I saw was in Egyptian and we couldn't
ever decide if the horse was actually the princess or if the wizard-guy was
dreaming. But it didn't tell us much about the culture except that I think
I could say 'get rid of that dog!' in Egyptian."

Giles sat for a moment looking at him with his mouth slightly agape. "I
will remember that if we ever need to rid ourselves of canines."

"Egyptian canines. Won't work on other dogs. The movie was really funny,
though, unless she really *was* dead. It might have been a tragedy in that
case." A thought suddenly silenced him, and he sat very still. If they
could just so off-handedly plan to go to Egypt, then they could just as
casually plan to go somewhere else. He looked at Giles, feeling his eyes
go wide. "We could go to *Spain*."

It wouldn't be the same Spain that Dru had talked about. The Spain she'd
known was variously 100 and fifty and ten years old, and reserved for
creatures of the night. But he could still go, and see the same places
Spike had been....

"If you'd like." Giles tilted his head to one side. "Why Spain?"

They could sit at the restaurants, outside near the street -- what had Dru
called them? Steps to the stars. Spike had laughed, and explained to
Xander that she liked to sit outside and look at the night sky. "Oh,
because Will--" He clamped his jaw shut. God knew why he hadn't said
'Spike'. 

Giles was looking at him with compassion and understanding. "Because
Will...?"

"He lived there for a while. Used to talk about it." When was he ever
going to get used to Giles being so accepting about everything? He stifled
a laugh at the idea of testing that acceptance by saying 'Oh by the way,
did I ever mention he was a vampire?' Ignore for the moment Will was
*still* in his life.

He glanced out the window. Blue sky.

He felt a hand touch his arm gently. "I think we can arrange for a quick
sidetrip to Spain."

"He was in Bilbao, right on the coast. Bay of...Bascay? Where the Basque
people are? Did they get named for the Bay, or did the bay get named for
them?" He still felt subdued, wishing he could turn the conversation to
something else. Any effort would be transparent, though; Giles would know
exactly what he was doing. 

"I think they were named for the Bay, though I'm not entirely certain."
The answer was given in a matter-of-fact scholarly way.

Xander eyed him, knowingly. "You're going to find me another book, aren't
you? I took European history in 10th grade, already. OK, flunked; maybe I
do need a book."

Giles smiled faintly. "Perhaps a guide book."

"Or a guide? Hey! Could we do that backpack across Europe thing? Or would
that be incredibly dangerous? I guess if we slept in motels instead of
camping it would be OK. You're not too old for that, are you?" He could
feel himself trying to force the babbling, and let it subside. He leaned
sideways, against Giles. "Can we really go to Egypt and Spain?"

"Not all at once." Giles put his arm around Xander's shoulders. "But yes.
We can go anywhere you want."

Xander wondered what it would be like. Go anywhere. Anywhere at all. 
He'd never dreamed of getting anywhere except out of the house; his world
had been Sunnydale and the dark places in his mind. He'd thought his world
had grown brighter when Giles had taken him in. 

But bigger? He hadn't counted on that. 

"Even Disneyland."

He sat up straight. "We can really go to Disneyland? What about-- if we
went to DisneyWorld we could go to Epcot as well, and the studios, so you
wouldn't have to go on all the rides. Have you ever been on a roller
coaster? Do they have those at DisneyWorld? Buffy says they're boring." 

"Buffy says DisneyWorld is boring?" Giles was beginning to look a bit lost.

"Roller coasters. She's been on them before, and she says they're
boring." He recalled the conversation they'd had, over a year ago. He
continued, thoughtfully, "She may have been saying that because I was the
only one there who hadn't ever been to an amusement park before. But none
of them have been to DisneyWorld -- we'd have to bring everyone back
souvenirs. Mouse ears. Willow looks cute in mouse ears."

"So would you."

Xander grinned. "I'm not the only one." Spike in mouse ears? 

"Haven't we had this discussion before?"

"No. We were talking about mouse ears from Disneyland. Now we're talking
about mouse ears from DisneyWorld." He craned his neck, looking up at
Giles. Perfect position for a cute look. "If you say 'no' I'll make us go
to Iowa for our next vacation."

"If that's where you want to go," Giles said innocently.

Xander smiled. "You think I'd be more bored than you would? One word:
farmboys."

"After living in Sunnydale, boring would be a refreshing change."

"Sunnydale is boring."

Giles gave him a disbelieving gaze. "We definitely need to expand your
horizons."

"You say that because you haven't lived there your whole life. You've been
everywhere. Sunnydale might have demons and evil and Hellmouth and regular
apocalypses, but... it's always the same. It's always *been* the same. 
Even when it's horrifying." 

There was silence for a moment as he watched Giles consider that. "Iowa
might be a refreshing change for you then as well."

"Can we go to DisneyWorld, instead? I wouldn't actually make you wear
mouse ears." 

He got another smile. "We can go anywhere you want."

"Can we go see Rocky Horror?"

Giles shuddered.

"It's playing on-stage in London. Grandmum checked for me."

"Wouldn't you rather go to...uh..."

Xander watched him flounder, for a bit.

"I'm not dressing up."

"She said I could borrow your outfit."

He watched as Giles close his eyes, visibly summoning patience. "Remind me
to have a long chat with her."

Xander grinned gleefully. "If it makes you feel any better, I can promise
to have kids so you can embarrass me back."

"I look forward to it." There was something in his voice, his expression
that Xander couldn't immediately put a name to.

"In the meantime," Xander began, deciding he should take pity on Giles. A
little. "We actually got tickets to see something else."

"Oh?" 

"You don't think we'd actually torment you the entire month?" 

Giles smiled faintly. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"Nah." Xander reached around and gave Giles a quick hug. "After a while
you just start going along with the joke. Then it's no fun, and I have to
start tormenting someone else."

"I'll introduce you to the Watchers council. You can torment them with my
blessing."

"I'll tell them you said that."

"I suspect they wouldn't be very surprised." Giles shifted in his seat.
"I've a reputation as something of a rebel."

Xander heard the echo of something other than satisfaction, in Giles'
voice. The same rebellion that made him such an excellent Watcher for
Buffy, had earned him little praise from those who had trained him. 
Including his own father. "We like you that way," he said quietly.

That earned him a smile. "Thank you." 

"Even without mouse ears," he groused.

*********

Part Three



Xander managed to avoid annoying Giles much more, for the remainder of the
trip. Most of it was due to the books he'd brought to read. He did think
he'd pressed his luck when the plane had flown into some clouds, and he'd
gone back to plastered against the window, repeating over and over to Giles
that there were clouds to see. He was sure Giles appreciated it when
Xander had opened his backpack and dug out a book and his CD player. 

Finally, though, when he was sure he'd have to start bugging Giles again
just to offset the fact that he'd been *sitting* more or less all day, they
announced the plane's approach.

Then he was glued to the window one more time, watching as the island then
the city then the airport came into view. When they touched down, he
turned to Giles, and heard himself say, "We're in England!"

"Unless the plane took a dramatically wrong turn, yes." Giles smiled
indulgently and Xander reflected that it was an expression he'd seen a lot
of so far on this trip.

He resisted the urge to stick out his tongue, as he'd only have to explain
himself -- and that would just make Giles look at him, indulgently. He
didn't manage to stay calm, though, as they got off the plane and headed
down the corridor, approaching Customs. Beyond, he could see people
waiting.

It didn't escape Giles' notice and he touched Xander's back with a
steadying hand. "It's going to be all right. They're going to love you."

Xander swallowed his comment of 'Now, yeah'. He knew they'd be friendly. 
He tried to imagine what it would be like, seeing face to face the woman
he'd been calling 'grandmum'. Over the phone, she was wonderful. She'd be
waiting for them, burst into joyful welcomes and hugs as soon as she saw
them. He suddenly realized he was walking practically *on* Giles. Maybe
he *was* a lot nervous. "They're gonna hug me?"

"My mother most likely will. Unless," He felt Giles looking at him.
"Unless you would rather she didn't?"

He stamped down on the urge to hide behind Giles. "It'd be kinda late to
decide that now, wouldn't it?" he joked.

"If you don't want to be hugged, she won't hug you."

Xander started to shrug - people were moving past them, now, on their way
through Customs. "It doesn't matter," he said as he continued forward to
avoid holding up traffic any worse.

Giles reached out and caught a hold of his arm, stopping him. "It does
matter."

"But it's embarrassing." He wanted to just go out there and get this over
with -- but there was another part of him that wanted to get back on the
plane. 

"It matters," Giles repeated, holding his gaze seriously.

Finally, Xander just shook his head. "They're gonna think we stayed on
the plane," he managed, nodding towards the gate. It wasn't like they were
going to hurt him, he told his brain, sternly. If anything, Giles' mother
had promised to spoil him for the entire month.

After a long, searching look, Giles nodded. But before he let Xander go,
he said, "Anything or anyone makes you uncomfortable, all you have to do is
tell me and it'll stop. I promise."

"I know," Xander whispered. He *wanted* to meet Giles' parents -- wanted
to enjoy meeting them, wanted to like being here. Wanted to have
grandparents who loved him, again. He didn't understand the voice in his
head that was demanding to get back on the plane and go home.

He slipped his hand into Giles'. Giles smiled at him and didn't let go as
they continued.

The crowd made it difficult to see if there was anyone who matched the
photos Giles had shown him. Groups of people hugging and laughing and
talking, individuals milling about, searching for faces they knew, people
in uniforms trying to move past everyone else with the patient impatience
of seasoned airline personnel.

"Rupert!"

Xander froze. He tried to see through the crowd, telling himself to calm
down and relax before he freaked out over something so stupid. When he saw
Maggie moving towards them, arms out, he ducked behind Giles. 

"Mum," Giles greeted her with a smile, hugging her tightly.

There was someone beside her -- Giles' father, Everett. He gave Xander a
brief, perplexed look before Everett held out his hand. Maggie pulled back
from hugging her son and looked at him as well. "And this must be Xander." 

"Hi." Xander tried to uncurl his fingers from Giles' shirt. He hadn't
realized he'd latched on, and he realized it must look odd. Before he
could accept the offered handshake, though, Giles' father pulled his hand
back. No sign of confusion or censure in his face. 

"Yes, it is." Giles sounded quite proud as he turned and gently disengaged
Xander's hand from his shirt, pulling him forward a little, but also close
to his side. Protectively.

"Nice to finally meet you," Everett said, giving him a polite nod. "I
understand this is your first trip to England -- hope you don't mind,
Maggie has rather a great deal planned for us all. You weren't hoping to
get any sleep, were you?"

Xander found himself grinning. "Not any more." He glanced at Maggie, who
was telling her husband to hush.

"Feed him a few sodas and he can keep going indefinitely," Giles teased
gently.

"That doesn't sound too much different than another teenage boy I
remember," his mother replied archly, then turned and smiled at Xander.
"Welcome to the family," she said holding out her hands to him.

"Thanks," he replied, beginning to feel that he liked her in person, as
much as over the phone. She didn't look anything like her photos, though
-- she was a lot more vibrant, in person. He tentatively held out a hand. 
She grasped it briefly, her smile warming even more, but when he tensed
even a little she let go again.

He returned her smile, though he was puzzled. Grew more so when Giles'
father suggested they head for the car. It was like no one minded that he
was nervous -- scared nearly out of his mind, there for a few minutes. No
one was even saying a word.

As they turned to head through the remaining crowd, Xander frowned. He
hadn't wanted to insult his grandmum by rebuffing her welcome...but now
that he'd gotten what he'd wanted, he found he didn't want it. Still
hanging onto Giles' hand, he moved a step ahead, closer to her.

Maggie smiled at him. "Did you have a good flight?"

"Saw lots of clouds." He grinned. 

"Any interesting shaped ones?"

"All of them -- they look like pulled apart cotton balls." He'd said as
much to Giles on the flight -- repeatedly. "Like you could sit on them,
and not fall through. And I saw two mountain ranges." The conversation
was beginning to sound like every other one he'd had with her.

He had no idea how to tell her he'd changed his mind, though, and wanted a
hug. 

"In the clouds or on the ground?" 

He moved closer, and she held out her hand to him again, in what seemed
like a completely natural gesture. "The real ones -- the Rockies and the
Appalachians. The Rockies look taller." He took her hand, not realizing
until he'd given her a half-hug, that he'd let go of Giles. Xander held
his grandmum's hand lightly as they headed for the escalators. "Have you
ever seen mountains from the air?"

"Not those ones. I'm afraid I've never been to America."

"You can come to DisneyWorld with us." He leaned in and stage-whispered,
"Can you help me get dad to wear Mickey Mouse ears?"

"Remind me to tell you about the play Rupert was in when he was five,"
Maggie replied conspiratorially.

"Mum!" Giles protested from where he was walking a step or two behind.

"Oh yeah?" He glanced back in time to see Giles rolling his eyes. "You
have pictures, don't you?" he said knowingly. 

"I think Maggie has pictures of practically every moment of Rupert's
childhood," Giles' father put in.

Xander gave Giles a sympathetic look. "The only child syndrome. Too bad
for you -- great for me." 

"I'm glad I have someone to show them to now." Maggie gave him a brief hug
as they were walking. 

"Oh, we can share them, if you want more people to show them to. Buffy
and Willow--"

"Yes, perhaps we should contact Willow about baby pictures," Giles broke
in.

Xander snapped his mouth shut. 

Maggie glanced curiously between the two of them before changing the
subject. "I want to hear all about your friends too."

"Oh, you can. Willow's been my best friend my whole life. Her mom has
all the pictures of me from when I was a kid," he explained.

"That's where the one you sent me came from?" Maggie asked her son.

Xander stopped. Turned, and gave Giles a glare. "Which *one* did you
give her?" 

"The one I carry in my wallet."

Huh. He'd have sworn he couldn't blush. Yet here he was. Blushing. 
"For *that* you are wearing mouse ears. That's final." He *knew* which of
the three Giles carried in his wallet he'd given his mother.

The 'cute' one. He should be grateful that Willow hadn't ever given Giles
the other embarrassing pictures. Yet.

Giles considered. "It's worth it."

Maggie was smiling. "I think it's an adorable picture, Xander. I finally
get to show all my friends a grandbaby picture."

"But it's *embarrassing*."

"Why would you think it's embarrassing?" she asked.

He gave her a look. Then gave Giles another glare. "Which photo did he
send you?" Giles had three, it was possible he hadn't sent *that* one. 
But Giles was looking innocent. Yep - he was gonna make him wear mouse
ears for a *year* for setting him up.

Maggie replied, "The one of you as a baby, making faces at the camera. I
can't remember the last time I saw something so cute."

"I was *not* making faces! It isn't cute, it's...." He gave up. He'd
never convinced Willow, or Giles, or *anyone* that the picture wasn't cute.
He should have burned it when he was seven -- he'd tried to, and Willow had
made him promise not to. 

He sighed. It wasn't exactly embarrassing -- it just made him remember
that, even as a baby, his parents hadn't cared enough to even want photos. 
He knew better than to say so out loud.

"I also have all those pictures from last Christmas." Maggie smiled. "And
I expect to add lots more to my collection this trip."

"Which tells me what *I'll* be doing for the next month," came from behind
them.

"At least you won't be posing," Giles told his father.

"Nonsense," said Maggie. "The two of you can take turns with the camera."
She gave Xander a wink. He laughed.

They made their way outside, the conversation continuing on easily and
comfortably. Xander and Maggie sat in the back seat, Maggie pointed out
sights as they drove past. It was almost like being back on the airplane
-- his nose pressed against the glass and gaping. It was real, he was in
London. Somewhere that wasn't Sunnydale. The proof was all around him. 

His excitement lasted until the car pulled into a short drive, stopping at
a wrought-iron gate. There was a brick wall stretching out to either side,
and through the gate Xander could see a huge old building that looked like
a mansion. "Where are we?" Had they come to the Watcher's headquarters,
first thing?

"Home," Giles said softly.

Xander blinked. Stared, as the gates swung slowly open. OK, so finally
he understood just how rich Giles was. "But it looks like--"

"A bloody great hulk that belongs in a gothic novel?" Maggie suggested.

The car was moving forward, now, and Xander got a better look at the
house. "I've never read gothic novels," he told her. "How many *rooms*
are there? Didn't you ever get lost?" he directed the question to Giles.

"Not even when I wanted to." Giles sounded long-suffering.

"Rupert, we almost never told you to get lost," his mother chided him. 
"As for hiding out to avoid doing your chores -- I tried telling you when
you were eight, that I'd done the same thing in this very same house when I
was a girl and I knew *all* the spots."

"You took all the fun out of it."

"That was the point," Maggie replied. Xander found himself trying to
stifle giggles. Watching Giles' mom give him a hard time was even better
than doing it, himself.

"It wasn't fair." Giles seemed to be regressing before his eyes.

"Stomp your foot," Xander reminded him. "It doesn't work unless you
stomp."

"You're enjoying this far too much."

"Um, duh? Aren't I supposed to be? You don't squirm like this when *I*
harangue you."

"I have more practice," Maggie confided. "You'll get the hang of it."

"Good lord, I hope not," Giles muttered.

"It only took *you* a few months to get the hang of giving *me* a hard
time," Xander complained. "It's only fair I get some pointers from
grandmum." 

Everett parked the car, and they all climbed out. Xander stared again --
it was even larger, up close. It was the sort of house that just beckoned
one to go in and start exploring. Maggie took Xander's arm with a smile as
they headed inside.

************

Part Four

The foyer was exactly as the exterior had promised. Tall ceiling,
paintings on the walls, small tables covered with vases and plants and a
luxurious rug stretching the length of the hallway. Everything looked rich.

"You're gonna tell me what I can touch, aren't you?" Xander asked
dubiously. He didn't want to think about the cost of everything he could
break.

"This isn't a museum. As long as you don't practice crossbow shooting in
the hallway..." Maggie looked over her shoulder at her son.

"It was raining outside," Giles protested mildly. "Besides, you always
hated that vase."

"You're still claiming you *aimed* for the vase?" his father asked.

"What else could I have been aiming for?"

"That hideous painting of Uncle Randolph."

"I rather liked it. It certainly captures the man's spirit."

"He had a hideous spirit." Everett gave their bags a look. "I suppose
you and I should carry these upstairs while your mother shows Xander
around."

"We thought we'd put you in Rupert's old room," Maggie said. "If Rupert
doesn't mind, most of his things are packed away, and he can stay in the
guest room across the hall."

"That sounds fine to me," Giles said, looking questioningly at Xander.

Xander figured he was grinning widely enough to make any answer redundant.


"Wonderful. You two gets your things upstairs, while I show Xander the
library."

"Library?" Xander's eyes went wide.

"Well, there goes the rest of the tour." Giles was giving him the
indulgent smile, again. 

"That's all right," Maggie said, with an indulgent smile of her own. "If
we don't get any further today, we have the entire month."

"Only a month, for the entire library?" Everett shook his head. "You
forget, last year we added shelves and put up all of Aunt Cissie's books."

Giles eyes lit up at that. Maggie laughed and shooed him and Everett off.
"Go on. You can look after you've put the bags away."

Xander grinned at Giles, then let her lead him off down the hallway. She
did point out a few rooms as they passed, pointing down halls and up a
stairway -- showing him the other most important room besides the library:
the kitchen. Then she led him to a set of double doors, and opened them
with a smile. Xander stopped in the doorway. "You could just put my bags
in here."

Maggie laughed and put an arm around his shoulders. "You definitely will
fit in around here."

"It's not my fault. I used to be a happy slacker," he defended. He eyed
the first bookshelf, trying to determine how the titles were organized. 

"I'm afraid the organization is rather haphazard," Maggie told him
apologetically. "By who put them in here, mostly."

"Darn, that means I just have to start at one end and work my way...." He
suddenly realized how many bookcases there were. Every spot of wall was
hidden, and the room itself.... "I think this room is bigger than my old
house." There was no way he could look at everything in just one month.

Maybe if he moved here for a couple years.

"You know, if there's some book you need for your studies after you've
gone home, all you have to do is call us. We can send it to you."

"Do you have a catalogue?"

"As a matter of fact..." Maggie moved away, headed for a shelf near the
middle. She pulled something out and brought it over.

"Uh, grandmum?"

"Yes?"

"It's gonna take me all month just to read that catalogue."

She smiled at him. "Do you have a computer?"

"Yeah."

"I'll send you it in a file."

He grinned. "Are you sure you're related to Rupert Giles?"

Maggie sighed tragically. "Rupert takes after his father, I'm afraid, when
it comes to technology."

"What does he take after you for?" Xander asked, deliberately ignoring the
books. He knew as soon as he looked closely enough to make out a title,
he'd be lost. 

"Everett always blames Rupert's rebelliousness on me."

Xander's grin vanished. She hadn't sounded any less serious than she had
before, but...his rebelliousness was a serious issue. Even if she only
meant now, against the Council, and not the rebellion he'd gone through as
a teenager.

If it weren't for that rebellion, letting Buffy do things her own way --
letting her have friends, letting those friends be part of her life and
part of her Watcher's life -- he'd be home, with his parents. 

"Xander?" Maggie was looking at him with concern. "Is something wrong,
luv?"

"Is he still mad at him? He used to...wish he'd do things the way he was
supposed to. The way the council wanted him to. Does he still...." He
didn't know if he was making much sense, but it was suddenly, somehow, too
hard to say 'grandda'. Or 'dad'.

"Rupert and his father..." She sighed. "I don't think they've ever quite
seen eye to eye. But the last year has been better."

Xander looked away. He knew how much Giles hated the disagreement with
his father, hated the fact that they were disagreeing over something each
felt was important. But also there was the realization that Everett Giles
must -- now or then -- have regretted the way his son performed his duties.
"If he hadn't, though-- if he hadn't done things the way he did--" Xander
stopped, not sure this was supposed to be about whether or not he'd been
rescued. 

But Maggie was looking at him attentively, ready and wanting to listen.

"It's because he was breaking the rules and letting me and Willow be there
that I-- I wouldn't have ever gone over there after my father beat me up,
if he hadn't let us be friends with Buffy. And with him."

"Then I am glad he did." Maggie spoke quietly, with conviction and she was
looking past Xander as she did so. Xander glanced back, and froze. 

Everett and Rupert were both standing there, watching them. 

"So am I," Giles agreed, his posture defiant.

Xander couldn't help but glance to Giles' father. Everett was looking at
him with something like mild surprise on his face. "You think I could
regret this? Despite everything I may think about my son's methods, the
one thing I cannot regret is that he gained you from it."

Xander rubbed at his nose, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do
with the attention of the three adults focused on him. Giles seemed not
entirely pleased with what his father had said -- which Xander understood. 
He understood a lot about not making your parents proud.

He watched as Giles visibly pushed down his displeasure and summoned a
smile, genuine enough when he looked at Xander. "You see? You've managed to
accomplish the impossible -- have my father admit I did something right."

Xander made himself smile, as well, though the flicker of expression on
his grandda's face made him wonder. "I've always been told I was
impossible," he managed weakly. 

Maggie her arm through his again. "Then you'll fit in just fine around
here."

"Except I don't really know how to use a crossbow." 

"Oh, we can teach you that, easily enough," from his grandda, in a gruff
voice -- but when Xander looked, his eyes were twinkling.

"Outside," Maggie put in.

"What if it's raining?" he asked, deciding he enjoyed the way his grandmum
could make Giles squirm with only a single word.

"You put on a rain coat."

Xander looked at Giles, the 'and why didn't you think of that' clear on
his face. Giles studiously ignored the look. Xander gave Maggie a grin,
which she returned.

"So," Giles said, in an effort to change the subject, "would you like to
see where you'll be sleeping?"

Xander took pity on him, and nodded. "Oh, and I promised Willow I'd
call..."

"You can use the phone in my study," Maggie said with a smile. "Rupert
knows where it is."

"Great! Oh, um...is it OK if I have her email me something at your
address?" He grinned again at the matching expressions of god-help-us on
Giles' and his father's faces.

"Of course. Feel free to use the computer any time you're here."

"Oh! That reminds me, I found a website for Tilligin demon hatchlings! I
wrote the URL down somewhere...I'll have Willow send it, as well." He
blinked at Giles. "What?"

"I didn't say a word."

"The eyes, again." Xander turned back to his grandmum. "I keep trying to
tell him about all the cool stuff I find, and he just looks at me and his
eyes cross."

"They do not!"

"Everett's do, as well," Maggie told him with an air of sympathy. "And if
I even say 'file transfer' to him...." She shook her head.

Everett simply 'hpmhed', then turned to his son. "I was just on my way to
have a brandy. Would you care to join me?"

"I believe I would, thank you," Giles answered with all his dignity.

Xander watched them go, then turned to Maggie, imperiously. "I believe we
were going to use the phone, and then that infernal machine?"

She laughed, the sound warm and musical. "I'll show you my study."

********

Part Five

The conversation with Willow was short, in deference to international
calling rates. Despite Maggie's insistence he talk as long as he liked,
Xander and Willow both felt awkward actually doing so, especially when
there was email to be had. Xander gave her Maggie's address, assured her
he meant what he was asking for, then promised once again to bring her home
lots of fun souvenirs.

It would take her awhile to send the stuff he'd asked for, so in the
meantime... "Where's dad's old room?" he asked Maggie, who had been reading
through some mail nearby.

"It's upstairs. Why don't we go find Everett and Rupert? I know Rupert
would want to show it to you himself."

"Cool, yeah." He followed her out, and down the hall back the way they'd
come from the library - then they turned down another corridor and Xander
realized he was already lost. Front door? That way?

Maggie seemed to notice and gave him another understanding smile. "It's a
bit overwhelming at first, isn't it?"

"Just makes me glad I don't sleepwalk."

"You'd have plenty of space if you did."

He looked over his shoulder, again, and tried to determine if anything
looked familiar. He suddenly heard his grandda's voice up ahead, and
turned back around. He and Giles were talking, and from the tone of it,
things were almost friendly. Reserved and British, of course, but friendly.

Both men looked up and smiled welcomingly when they entered. They were
seated in leather high backed chairs, facing towards each other. They were
relaxed, and Xander wanted to plant himself on the carpet between them, and
just let it continue. Surrounded by people who cared about each other. 

"Everything all right back home?" Giles asked as Xander gave into the
impulse and crossed over to where they were sitting.

"Nothing abnormal has happened, Willow says. I don't know if that's good
or bad." 

"Considering it's Sunnydale, I shudder to think what would qualify as
abnormal."

"If it helps, she didn't sound like she was hiding anything. No breezy
'oh, no, I didn't just almost get eaten by demons and half the town is
burning down gotta run' tone in her voice."

"Good. I'm hoping we can get through at least half our vacation before the
town catches fire."

"Rupert, I'm sure if the town caught on fire, someone would call." Maggie
patted his shoulder. "Don't worry. Even a Watcher deserves a vacation. 
I'm sure young Mr. Smythe is enjoying his assignment as your substitute."

"It should prove...educational...for him, at least." Giles smiled faintly,
which became less faint when he caught Xander's gaze and he smiled back.
They both doubted that Buffy would be anything like the temporary Watcher
would expect.

Xander figured it would be good for him. 'Young' Mr. Smythe was a few
years older than Giles, and had seemed quite the absent-minded history
professor. Giles had assured him it was mostly an affectation -- until
Xander pointed out that *Giles* had a bit of the absent-minded prof thing,
himself, and asked if it were a Watcher thing, or a British academic thing.
Giles had sputtered, starting to protest, then finally had just changed the
subject.

Xander gave him a grin, remembering it. When Giles gave him a questioning
look, he asked, "So, you wanna show me where I'm staying? Is this the room
with the tree outside the window?"

"Yes." Giles smiled and got to his feet. "Shall we?"

Xander started to follow him out. Some of the tamer stories Giles had
told him about his childhood revolved around the tree -- which he'd
climbed, in order to come and go. 

Giles waited for him and they started for the stairs. "I'm sure they know
what I used that tree for, but we've never discussed it."

"Why not? Did you do more than just sneak out at night? Or is this one
of those British things I'm never going to understand?"

"A little bit of both. I pretended I didn't do it and my father could
pretend I was being obediently boring."

"Being--" Xander stopped, frowning a little. He wasn't exactly sure what
he ought to be saying, with regard to Giles' relationship with his father. 
He didn't know what was out of place, or none of his business. But having
your father *want* you to be boring, didn't sound fun.

"I did learn to fake it quite well." Giles smiled at him. "You can't tell
me the word 'boring' has never crossed your mind in relation to me." 

Again, grateful beyond words he wasn't the type to turn red. Boring? No. 
Never...boring. But quietly, Xander said, "I was gonna say, being obedient
isn't necessarily boring."

"I'll remind you you said that," Giles teased.

Xander grinned. "Yeah, but a year from now I won't have to be obedient. 
I can do anything for a year."

"A year." A slightly wistful smile crossed Giles' face. "Time does seem to
get away from us."

"Almost two," Xander reminded him. "Um, that you've been here. Uh,
Sunnydale. Not here." He realized he was babbling, and he knew why. He
looked away, and conversely reached out for Giles. 

Giles stopped and hugged him. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I--" Deep breath. Told himself to just say it before he could
convince himself it sounded silly. "I never thought you were boring. When
I first met you, I thought--you were safe." His voice dropped to barely
audible, at the last three words.

The arms holding him tightened in response.

"I used to try to think of ways to hang around, when I wasn't supposed to
be there." He dropped his head on Giles' shoulder. Still safe.

"Is that why you came to me that night?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," he whispered.

"I'm glad I was there." Giles voice was soft and a bit husky with emotion.

"I'm glad I didn't get eaten on my way over," Xander said, trying to joke.

"So am I."

Xander let himself stay there for a moment longer, before he had to let
go. He regained his composure easily, asking, "So am I allowed to test
this tree? Or should I not mention it?"

"The tradition would be not to mention it, but," Giles smiled, "I might
join you. See if I can still..."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "If you break your neck, or your arm, or your
leg, I am *not* going to be held responsible."

"Your confidence in me is underwhelming."

"I'm just saying I reserve the right to say I told you so if you fall." 
He moved back out of the embrace, folded his arms, and gave Giles a stern
look. "I am not bringing you back, broken."

Giles nodded, obviously trying to look cowed but the way his lips were
twitching with a barely restrained smile ruined the effect.

"I promised Buffy," he added. "No broken bones, no mad cow disease, no
plane crashes. No demons, vampires, evil spells."

"In other words, a vacation."

He nodded.

"Tree climbing isn't on the proscribed list, though."

"If that means you can only do it if you don't break anything, then yes."

"I'll have you know, I've gone up and down that tree a thousand times and
haven't broken anything." Giles paused. "Except my curfew."

Xander frowned, considering. "Maybe. I wanna see it, first. Then we'll
see."

Giles gave him a look, keeping a straight face but Xander could see the
laughter in his eyes.

Stifling his own desire to grin, Xander held his finger up. "If I see
*one* sign of rotting wood, you're not going." He waggled his finger.

"Yes, dad."

Xander gave him he best rendition of a fatherly scowl, culled from the
nicer ones he'd ever seen from his own father. "And don't be sneaking out,
after I sneak out." There was a brief sensation of something -- memory, or
just the feeling of imagined power -- that threatened to take the joke
away. Xander smiled, softly, letting the feeling fade. "Or you owe me
chocolate."

"Perhaps we can sneak out *for* chocolate."

"Oo!" Xander reached out and grabbed Giles' arm, to hurry him along. 
"*Now* you're talking. Doesn't get you out of not falling," he said with a
brief, stern look.

"I'll keep that in mind," Giles replied with a faint, affectionate smile.

With a nod, Xander looked down the hall. "So, um, which one is it?" 
There were a *lot* of doors. None of them looked like they would have had
a "My Room, Keep out!" sign on it.

Giles pointed. "The one at the end on the right. It's by the back stairs
that go down to the kitchen."

"Good to know. Um--"

"Yes?"

"No one said if we can sneak down in the middle of the night and steal
something...." 

He got an understanding smile in response. "It's perfectly all right. I
used to do it myself at your age."

"Which would explain why you'll be doing it now...how?" He caught himself
wanting to ask for a written-out list of rules. He'd never thought about
such a thing living with Giles -- and he wasn't exactly sure why. But
something about being here made him want to tip-toe and whisper, until he
knew just exactly what was on the 'don't' list.

He followed Giles down the hall, towards the door he'd pointed out. 
Grandmum had said he'd be right across the hall -- only there was no door
exactly opposite, and two doors catty-corner from it. Giles must've
noticed his covert glances because he pointed at the door closest to the
stairs. "That's where I'll be."

Xander nodded. Easy enough to find. Then he glanced at Giles again, as
he moved to open the door of his childhood bedroom. "I notice you didn't
answer."

"I thought the answer was self-evident." Giles paused dramatically. "The
time change."

Xander blinked. "The time change? What does that have to do with you
sneaking down to the kitchen at all hours? I'm supposed to believe your
mother won't feed you at mealtimes?" He grinned, then was distracted from
any retort as Giles motioned him inside the room. "Your ceiling has *what*
on it?"

Giles coughed. "I went through a painting phase when I was 13."

Chuckling, Xander wondered if he could get a disposable camera before they
left. "And I see no one painted over it since then."

"Mum refused to let anyone. Even me."

"Oh, I bet I don't *need* a disposable camera."

"Not for this," Giles said with a sigh.

Xander shot him a grin, then turned his attention to the rest of the room.
It was large, and furnished with tons of dark wooden furniture, thickly
stuffed chairs, and four-poster bed. It was large, without seeming too
large. He stepped further inside, turning in a slow circle, trying to
imagine. "You were a kid in here."

"Yes, for 18 years, give or take."

"Not counting the occasional night out," he teased as he continued looking
around. There was something odd about the room. About the way it felt. 
Like someone who was a complete stranger to him, had called this room home.
And yet the room felt as much like it could be home, as Giles did.

Giles was watching him closely, a hint of nervousness around the edges.
"So what do you think?"

"I think I like it," he answered seriously. It was, he realized, an
unexpected gift. Part of Giles' childhood, something he couldn't have
given through stories and photos. It made him glad he'd already asked
Willow to send his stuff.

"You think?" Giles smiled faintly, looking pleased.

"I wanna see the tree, first. Then I'll know." 

His smile widening, Giles walked over to the window and opened it. There
was a limb almost right up against the house - barely a foot away from the
sill. Xander had an image of Spike standing here, peering in, begging him
to come out. On the other hand, it did look sturdy. He leaned out,
studying the rest of the limbs on the way down. The final drop was over
eight feet. 

He gave Giles a stern look.

"What?"

"How do you climb back up?"

"I jumped and pulled myself up." Giles looked out the window over his
shoulder. "It does seem to have grown a little."

Xander decided he'd take it under advisement -- maybe sneak out, that
night, for practice.

Giles moved back and sat on the bed. "I wonder..." he murmured, staring at
one of the bedposts.

"I think it's called a 'bed'," he offered. Then he moved back, just in
case Giles was trying to remember what spell he'd placed on the bedpost
to-- ok, he didn't want to know *that* at all.

"I used to have a hiding place. In the bottom left bedpost."

Xander felt his eyebrows rise. "And what did you *hide* in there?" He
went over, still trying not to think about the sort of things it could be. 
Skin magazines? Smokes? Spell materials?

Giles reached up and removed the knob on top of the post. Looking inside,
he smiled, then looked back up at Xander. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

"It's gonna bite me, isn't it? This is revenge for the last twelve hours
on the plane." Despite his words, Xander inched forward to peek. He could
see the tops of what looked like a sheaf of papers wrapped around a small
box. "What is it?" It looked like the sort of thing he shouldn't touch --
not because it would explode, but because it was rather obviously something
private. He thought of the two boxes in the back of his own closet. 

"Treasures." His guardian smiled self effacingly as he reached inside to
pull the items out. "Or at least I thought so when I was young."

Xander sat down on the bed beside him, unabashedly looking -- now that
Giles was opening the box. On top was a toy plane and what looked like a
pair of pilot's wings. "Fighter pilot, huh?" Xander asked, remembering
what Giles had said -- and feeling sorry for the boy who hadn't gotten to
be what he'd wanted. He suddenly understood better why Giles was so
insistent he be anything and everything he wanted to be.

"Yes." With a reminiscent smile, Giles picked up the wings. "These were my
uncle's. He flew in the war you know."

"Um, no, I didn't." He leaned closer, and saw the wings were a dull
silver metal. 

"Really? I could've sworn I had told you."

Xander shook his head. "Is he--" There was no real casual way of asking.


Giles smiled. "No, he's still alive. I wouldn't be surprised if he
outlives us all."

"Am I gonna meet him while we're here?" It suddenly occurred to him there
was more to discovering Giles had more relatives than parents, than simply
discovering he had relatives. There was *meeting* them.

"Quite possibly." He could feel Giles' eyes on him. "If you want to."

Xander half-grinned. "Does he know cool stories about you, too?"

"A few."

"You're not squirming. Damn, they must not be embarrassing." He glanced
into the box again, and asked, "Anyone else?"

"Quite a few, actually."

He felt his eyes go wide. "Quite a few? How many is quite a few?"

Xander watched as Giles' eyes went distant as he did mental arithmetic. 
He waited another moment. Giles was still counting. "Quite a few," Giles
repeated.

"Are we talking 'five' or a hundred and five?" he asked, eyes narrowing
with suspicion.

"Somewhere in between. About forty, give or take."

"Forty." Xander counted up all the relatives he'd known, growing up. 
"How many are gonna be dropping by while we're here?" 

"I'm not sure, really..."

"Are they in London? Are they *likely* to?"

"They all want to meet you." Giles looked at him seriously. "But only if
you want to."

He considered it. He didn't think it should be that surprising - from
their point of view, there was a new member of the family in town. Their
first chance to meet him. None of them knew him, really, besides Giles,
and, to a lesser extent, Giles' parents. He thought about a dozen
strangers descending on him, arms out to welcome him to the family. All
the blood rushed to his stomach.

Giles reached out and laid a hand on his arm. "Don't feel you have to. If
you're not comfortable with the idea-"

Not comfortable? He wanted to laugh. Surrounded by people who all wanted
to lay proprietary claim to his attention, to *him*. Instant relatives. 

He realized he had no idea where the bathroom was. Maybe if he hid under
the bed, the urge to throw up would go away.

Suddenly, he was being pulled into Giles' arms, the sturdy presence an
anchor against incipient panic. He began shaking, trembling hard as he
tried to clamp down on the urge to run, scream, or hide. He squeezed his
eyes shut and dug his fingers into Giles' sweater. He tried, shudderingly,
to draw in a breath.

"It's all right. I've got you," Giles murmured over and over, stroking
Xander's hair soothingly.

"I don't...don't want...." He caught his breath again, felt the air
burning in his lungs. He didn't even know what he didn't want, he only
knew he needed it gone. Whatever 'it' was. He buried his head in Giles'
shoulder and trusted him to make it go away.

The soft murmurs continued as Giles' arms tightened around him. Holding
him together. Keeping him safe. He tried thinking about it again,
wondering if he could tell what had done it, so he could try to explain it
to Giles. He got as far as 'sudden, instant relatives' and he started
freezing again.

He pushed himself closer, burying himself in the haven of Giles' embrace. 
Xander kept himself from thinking about anything for as long as he could. 
Anything except the way Giles felt, holding him. 

When he'd calmed down a little, he raised his head to find Giles watching
him with concern. "Better?" his guardian asked softly, reaching out to
push Xander's hair off his forehead.

But Xander shook his head. "I can't..can't keep track of that many
people. People who aren't ignoring me. It doesn't matter at high school
because only half a dozen people even notice I'm around. I can't--" He
had to shut his mouth fast, again, fear starting to trickle out too fast to
control anymore.

"You won't have to," Giles told him fiercely. 

"Even if you're there," he tried to explain, "I know I'm not supposed to
think any of them are gonna hurt me. But--"

"It's all right. I said you won't have to and you won't. You aren't
comfortable with it; it won't happen."

The hard tone in Giles' voice made Xander pause. It was the tone that
made shivers run down his arms. "Won't...?"

"Won't. Not without your permission. I promise."

"Won't...how won't I have to keep track of them?" Xander knew his
sentence hadn't meant what he'd intended it to. But the panic was
vanishing in the face of...that tone.

"There won't be any visits."

"Oh." He ought to feel guilty, he suspected. Apologize for making Giles'
family avoid coming to see them. But all he felt was the desire to rest
his head against Giles' chest, close his eyes, and listen to a voice which
said everything, bloody well everything, will be all right. 

The voice he believed in.

"All right?" Giles asked softly.

This time, he nodded. "Better," he whispered. "I'm...sorry." And he
was. Maybe Giles would have a chance to see his family, anyhow. Just not
when he was around. 

A gentle hand lifted his face so Giles could meet his eyes. "Don't be.
This is your vacation. It shouldn't be an ordeal."

"Aren't you gonna miss seeing them?" he asked quietly. 

"I'd rather spend time with you."

"You see me all the time." But he started to smile.

"Not in Britain," Giles pointed out logically.

He smiled a bit more at that. Resting his head on Giles' shoulder once
more, Xander felt the last of the panic die away. He yawned, and felt his
jaw crack. 

Giles chuckled. "Tired?"

"Exhausted." It felt like he'd been hit by a truck. All at once, his
body just started turning itself off.

"Jet lag will do that to you."

"So I can go d'be nah," Xander yawned again, and tried to wake himself up
enough to remember if there was anything he needed to do. Shoes off. That
should do it.

"Yes, you can." Giles voice sounded amused.

He leaned over, towards the bed. Tried aiming for the pillow. He kicked
at his shoes, and remembered he was wearing his boots. He sighed, and told
himself that in a moment he'd sit back up and take them off.

But the last clear memory he had was of blankets being pulled up, and an
arm wrapping around him.

********

Part Six


He rolled over, instinctively knowing that something was different. 
Before he opened his eyes he knew he was someplace new -- the bed smelled
wrong. It *felt* wrong-- his eyes snapped open, and just as quickly, he
relaxed.

Giles' room. 

He didn't have to look to know Giles had already gone. Left some time
ago, for that side of the bed was cool -- but he suspected that Giles had
been here the whole night. Yawning, he stretched, and wondered if he
wanted to get up to go find him.

There was a brief note left on the night stand in Giles' handwriting
telling him he could sleep as late as he wanted and to take the back stairs
down to the kitchen when he was ready for breakfast. He left the note
where it was -- he could use it as proof he had permission, two weeks from
now when he was still sleeping in til all hours. But perversely, at the
moment he was wide-awake. With a sigh of surrender, he climbed out of bed
and headed to the hallway -- opening every door until he found a bathroom.

Twenty minutes later he headed down the stairs. He felt like he was
sneaking towards the kitchen, despite the fact that he could hear Giles
talking, which meant he wasn't going to surprise anyone with his arrival. 
Two more steps, and he stopped.

"-no surprise get-together of family, please. Xander and I will leave if
there is."

Xander felt his eyes widen, and he held himself very still. He wondered
if Giles was speaking so firmly because his mother was looking forward to
having everyone over. Maybe she'd planned a party....

"They can be a bit overwhelming all at once," Maggie admitted.

He frowned. Did she sound disappointed? He couldn't tell. 

"A bit?" He could hear the laughter in Giles' voice. "You have a true gift
of understatement."

Xander could hear the echo of the same laugh in Maggie's voice. Something
else Giles had inherited. "Just because your Aunt Doris *still* pinches
your cheeks whenever she sees you...."

Xander found himself grinning. *That* might be worth seeing.

"The woman is senile. Still thinks I'm four years old."

"She is not senile. She just doesn't believe you grew up." There was a
pause, then, "I can see her point," Maggie said, in an exaggerated 'aren't
you so cute' tone of voice.

"Mum!" Giles sounded shocked.

She laughed, then, wholeheartedly delighted. Despite himself, Xander took
another step towards them. 

"I see where Aunt Doris got the idea now."

"She got it from her grandmother," Maggie said firmly. "Grandmum was
always pinching everyone's cheeks; sometimes I wonder why my teeth didn't
fall out of my head."

"Just don't do it to Xander. I'm not sure how he'd take it."

There was a pause. Then, in a less-amused tone, she asked, "Is he all
right?"

There was a long silence. "He's coping as best he can. He's come such a
long way, but sometimes..."

Xander silently eased himself down onto the step. He knew he shouldn't be
listening, but...he wanted to hear. Not hear what he knew Giles would tell
him, if he asked, but hear what Giles thought, when he wasn't talking to
*him*. 

In an odd way, perhaps it was just validation that he believed it. 
Regardless, he kept silent and eavesdropped.

"It's only been a year and a half, Rupert."

"It terrifies me sometimes. Xander's one of the strongest people I've ever
met -- he's had to be to survive. But in some ways he's still so fragile.
I'm scared that someday I'm going to say or do something that will break
him."

"Don't be silly," she said, gently. "You can't break him. If his own
parents never broke him, *trying* to hurt him, how could you, when all
you're doing is love him? If he can survive what he's already survived, he
can take whatever mistakes you make, and forgive you for them." There was
a pause, and Xander wanted to see what expression was on Giles' face. 

He heard Giles sigh. "I wish I'd found him earlier."

"I know, dear." 

"Even just a day. A month... hell, seventeen years." 

Xander swallowed his whispered 'me, too'.

"Don't suppose there's a secret time machine project the Watchers have
been working on?"

"If there is, I'll let you know as soon as I hear." Then the amusement
ran into her voice again, as she said, "Oh, wouldn't it be lovely, to have
a baby in the family? That photo... Rupert, he was simply adorable. How
could *anyone* hurt such a--" She cut herself off, and Xander bit his
lower lip.

"There are times I wish his father was still alive, so I could kill him
for what he did to Xander."

"Rupert," she chided, "don't be absurd. You'd have to torture him first."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, Mum. Mustn't forget the torture."

"Never forget the torture," she said firmly. "Otherwise they never
learn." 

Xander found himself wondering where it was that Giles had learned *how*
to be Ripper. He wondered why this conversation wasn't frightening him,
more. Perhaps because he knew he was *behind* the protective line of these
two.

"Yes, Mum," Giles replied dutifully.

"Now, it looks as though you need more toast." There were sounds of a
chair pushing back, then a clank of a metal pan. 

Xander suddenly found himself starving, and stood up. He took a deep
breath and tried to erase any signs from his face that he'd been listening.
Then he continued down, and found himself in a kitchen well-crammed with
cabinets and racks of pans, spices, cookbooks.... He hoped they were
cookbooks. 

Giles was sitting at the table, teacup raised halfway to his mouth when he
spotted Xander. He quickly put it down and smiled at him. "Good morning."

"Hey," he managed casually. He smiled as Maggie came over and gave him a
kiss on the cheek.

"Good morning, Xander." 

He leaned into her a little, giving her a one-armed hug, and fought down
the urge to crawl into her lap and stay there. He was, after all, taller
than she was. He glanced over and saw perfect understanding in Giles' eyes.

"How do you like your eggs, dear?" Maggie handed a plate over to Giles,
and headed back towards the stove.

"Um, cooked is fine." He saw Giles stifle a grin. "Or just not moving,"
he added.

"Hard boiled," Giles supplied for his mother.

"Anything's fine," Xander repeated. He did like them hard boiled, but
waiting half an hour for them to cook.... He watched as his grandmum went
to the refrigerator, and came back with a handful of eggs. 

"Did you want anything to go on them?" she asked, handing them over to
Xander on a plate. He suddenly realized they were already prepared. He
took the plate and sat down, had one shelled before he realized he hadn't
answered.

"He's fine," Giles answered for him again with an affectionate smile.

Xander put half an egg in his mouth, and added, "M-wr gu." He chewed
once, and said, "Thank you."

Maggie just laughed, and set another plate down. By the time he'd eaten
the second egg, she'd placed enough food on the table to keep him fed until
lunchtime.

Xander was beginning to see where Giles learned his concept of breakfast
from. Or perhaps Maggie just remembered what it took to feed a teenager. 
Either way, he was happily munching his way through breakfast for a good
half hour. He listened as Giles and his mother talked, this time about
more neutral subjects than Xander's parents. 

Finally, when Xander was beginning to feel full -- and hesitant to make
his grandmum get up *again* to refill his plate, since she wouldn't let him
do it for himself, he sat back. "Oh! I forgot to check last night for
Willow's file."

"It's arrived," Maggie told him. "I noticed it when I checked my mail this
morning."

"Oh! Good. Um, can I...?"

"Of course," she waved a hand towards the other doorway. "It's just down
the hall and to the right, you'll recognize the way from there."

"Um... I kinda want you two to see what she sent," he said quickly.

Giles and his mother exchanged a look and then they were both standing.
"Shall we, then?" Giles asked.

Xander let Maggie lead the way -- down the hall and to the right sounded
misleading, given what he already knew of the layout of the house. It
turned out she was right -- he wouldn't have gotten lost on his way to her
study. Distracted, maybe, since they walked right past the library....

They waited while she sat down and got back into her mail program, then
she surrendered her chair to Xander. He quickly found the email and
judging from the size of the attached file, she had managed to find at
least almost all of what he'd asked her for. The brief note Willow had
included confirmed that: 

Hi, Xander,

Here are all the photos I have -- I even managed to get a couple from mom
that I'd forgotten about. I can give you physical copies when you get home.
I think it's great that you're finally showing these to Giles. And I want
some new photos to add to my collection so remember to take all those
tourist vacation shots. -Willow

He grinned at her note. Willow and his grandmum would get along just fine.
He had a feeling he could just mention Willow's request to her, and Willow
would get the photos before they even got home. Nervously, he went to the
first attachment. The file names told him exactly what each one was --
date and description making actually looking at the photo almost
superfluous. He opened it, then turned the screen so Giles and Maggie
could see.

A simple photo, him as a baby, staring more or less confusedly at the
sleeping newborn nearby. Identical smiles of delight appeared on Giles and
his mother's faces.

"I don't know why she didn't give you this one, instead of the
embarrassing one," he muttered.

"Maybe because the other one is just you," Giles offered absently.

Startled, Xander smiled. He hadn't thought of it like that, but...yeah. 
It made sense. He moved to the second attachment, and opened it. The
files were in chronological order -- otherwise he would have left this one.
Deleted it, maybe, except deleting any like this would mean deleting half
of them.

The photo was him, almost two years old. Standing facing the camera,
holding a cookie out towards the person behind the camera. The expression
on his face was solemn. Too solemn for a toddler.

Giles' hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing briefly as he stared
at the photo. The look on both his and Maggie's faces made him think they
would give him whatever he asked for at that moment.

He just opened the next file. The embarrassing infant photo was the last
one of him actually smiling. Maybe *that* was why Willow had given it to
Giles.

The next photo was of Willow's third birthday party. Willow was blowing
out the candles on her cake while he sat beside her watching with a wistful
expression. The picture would've been cute if you didn't know his history.

This time it was Maggie who reached over and took his hand. Xander was
grateful they didn't say anything -- not offering to let him stop, not
offering him words of comfort he already knew. This wasn't about telling
them anything they didn't already know.

He opened the next one. This was he, Jesse, and Willow, running through
the sprinkler. You couldn't see his face in this one, his back was to the
camera.

Which meant you *could* see the long line of band aids running in a line
down his upper arm.

He watched Giles tense, could almost feel his anger and concern. The
conversation he'd overheard earlier came back to him. It made him think
again about opening one of the others. Luckily, the very next one was
better. He opened it, and they saw a group of people gathered in a
driveway which was cluttered with items for sale. Xander, age five, was
kneeling in a older woman's lap. His arms were around her neck, as if
hanging on so he wouldn't fall. 

"That's my grandmother," he explained.

"She has kind eyes," Maggie said with a smile.

"She was--" he stopped before saying 'the best'. She wasn't, really --
in retrospect. She hadn't ever let him go live with her, despite how often
he'd asked. He suspected she'd been afraid of confronting her son about
what was going on. "She was nice to me," he said instead, realizing how
lame that was. But she had been, and as a child, that had been the most
important thing.

"I would've liked to have met her," Giles commented.

Xander was about to close the photo, when Maggie said thoughtfully, "She
looks tired."

"She was 62 in this picture," Xander told her. "I think..." He searched
his memories of her, trying to look at them from his current, older and
wiser point of view. "I think she was sick a lot. When I stayed with her,
she never did much -- I think she didn't have the energy."

"But she cared for you." He heard just as clearly what Giles didn't add:
That she had kept him safe for a time as well.

"Yeah. She did." Feeling a little braver, he carefully opened the next
photo.

He and Willow were sitting on the ground, playing in the dirt. Still age
five, Xander was concentrating on a blade of grass in his hands. The
bruise covered his entire left cheek. He knew it wasn't the only one he'd
been sporting at the time of the photo, but none of the rest could be seen.

Giles' hand came up and caressed Xander's cheek where the bruise had been.
Xander looked up to find Giles looking at him. His eyes were dark, and
sad. "I wish..." Giles began.

Xander leaned back a little, against him, resting his head on Giles'
stomach. "Willow offered to fix these, once," he said quietly. "In
photoshop -- take away all the cuts and bruises." 

"But you didn't take her up on it," Maggie murmured.

"I...thought it would be lying. About what happened." 

Giles nodded slowly. "Surviving that has made you who you are." 

"Besides, mom always lied about it. Had so many stories about how I got
the bruises. Everyone believed her. Except Willow and Jesse."

"No more lies," Giles agreed.

Silently Xander returned his attention to the photos. Opened the next, a
photo of the three of them, dressed for Halloween. Willow was a fairy
princess, Jesse was a soldier. He was a vampire. Xander blinked at it,
then laughed. "I'd forgotten all about those costumes."

Giles and Maggie laughed along. "If you had only knew..."

"Well, I think the next year I was dressed as the Mad Scientist's
creation. Willow was the mad scientist, of course."

Jesse was Igor."

"So you had the starring role," Maggie said with a smile.

That made him smile, too. He'd always thought Willow had been the star --
she the Creator, after all. "Yeah, I was Xandenstein."

"Accept no substitutes." Giles gave him a teasing grin.

Rolling his eyes in an expression of faked humility, he opened the next
photo. Another birthday party, Willow's seventh. He and Jesse were
watching Willow handing out plates of cakes -- both of them glowering from
their chairs in the corner.

"And what would the story behind this be?"

"Um, I'm not sure. I think Jesse was making rude comments and Willow
decided he needed to wait until last for a piece of cake." He kept his
gaze on the photo, innocently.

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Only Jesse." 

Xander turned his innocent, surprised look on Giles. "*I* didn't do
anything. I was...keeping Jesse company. So he wouldn't
feel...um...self-conscious." 

"Of course."

Widening his eyes a little, he said, "I *never* do anything wrong. I told
you that." Beside them, Maggie giggled. Xander gave her a grin, then
quickly returned to his 'innocent me' look.

"How noble of you."

"Damn straight." He nodded, then moved to the next photo. 

It showed him and Willow and Jesse, eight years old, playing a board game.
Xander's arm was in a cast, the cast covered entirely with teddy bear
stickers. Involuntarily, Xander glanced down at his arm. Maggie ran her
hand lightly, down it, and he realized she'd been told the story. He moved
on to the next.

This one was taken at the zoo -- the first class trip they'd gone on. 
They were standing in front of the gorilla enclosure, Willow and Jesse were
smiling for the camera. Xander hand his fingers wrapped around a belt loop
of Willow's jeans and he was looking towards one of the gorillas.

"And just what were you thinking in that?"

"I was thinking I wouldn't mind being a gorilla. They looked so big." So
strong. Like no one could hurt him if he were like them,

Giles looked at the picture then turned and studied him for a minute. "I
like you the way you are."

"Yeah, well, being an animal has its perks." Wouldn't it have been so
much more fun to have been possessed by a gorilla's spirit? They only ate
fruit and plants, at least.

His guardian just gave him a look. Xander tried out his 'innocent me'
expression again. Then he went to the next photo. 

There were quite a few altogether, more than he remembered. Willow must've
saved every one. There had been as many with visible, obvious-if-you-knew
signs -- pictures of him sporting bruises and haunted eyes -- as there were
of everything appearing almost normal. 

When they reached the end, he made sure they were all saved to Maggie's
hard drive. "She said she'd have hard copies for us, when we get home. So
you won't have to look at jpegs," he told Giles.

"I would appreciate that." Giles mouth curved up into a half smile.

Xander sighed. "I bet she even makes some wallet-sized ones."

"I'll have to get a bigger wallet."

"You could take one out."

Giles considered. "No. I don't think I could."

He turned to Maggie. "I *do* get a copy of him in that rabbit suit,
right?"

"I am sure that can be arranged," she replied with a smile.

They both turned as someone cleared his throat. 

"Yes, dear?" Maggie asked.

Giles looked slightly disgruntled. "I suppose my opinion means nothing in
this."

"No," Maggie replied with a smile. "I'd think you'd be more concerned
about the photo I'm giving him of you in that tweed diaper."

"Mum!"

Xander blinked. Then he was laughing too hard to stay upright.
***********

Part Seven


They spent most of the day intending to explore the grounds. Giles got as
far as mentioning a couple spots he wanted to show Xander in particular,
then on their way down the hall got as far as the library. By dinner,
Giles swore that *tomorrow* he would show Xander the rest of the house, and
the grounds.

"And maybe we can go shopping, as well," he said as they sat down for
dinner in the dining room -- Maggie had teased them, saying one meal in the
library was enough for one day. 

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Shopping for what?" He was pretty sure he'd
hidden the distrust from his tone. Since Buffy wasn't here to drag him
through a thousand and one stores....

"There's a couple of rare book stores nearby that I used to frequent,"
Giles said casually. "I thought we might see if they're as interesting as I
remember."

"Bookstore?"

His guardian nodded with a faint smile. "Ones specializing in the obscure
and rare."

Xander grinned. "Bookstore. Bookstore, bookstore!" He bounced in his
chair, gave Giles a grin, and proceeded to imitate a small red furry
muppet. "Bookstore! Bookstore, bookstore." His grandmum had been feeding
them biscuits all afternoon.

"That would be a yes, then."

"Bookstore."

"You've reduced his vocabulary to one word," Maggie observed to her son.

Xander held up his fingers -- carefully not flipping his grandmum the
bird. "Book. Store." He waited. Added a finger. "Chocolate."

"Oh, dear," Giles murmured.

"Oh dear?" Maggie asked. 

Xander restrained himself for a second before whispering, "Bookstore."

"Things that induce hyperactivity," Giles explained to his mother.

Xander looked innocent.

"I've created a monster," Giles mock sighed.

"Good." Maggie said firmly. She turned her attention -- ostensibly -- to
her dinner. She passed a dish to her husband, who was apparently trying to
pretend he wasn't amused by the conversation. 

"So shall I plan on an outing tomorrow morning?"

Xander pulled his hyperactivity in long enough to give Giles a thoughtful
look and say, seriously, "If you think we can get past the library, this
time."

Maggie laughed. "You have four weeks to practice, you know -- getting
past the library. And you do remember that the post delivers to your part
of the world."

Xander nodded, feeling triumphant. "Bookstore?"

Giles nodded. "Bookstore."

**************************

Xander considered it an accomplishment that Giles had asked him only three
times if he was sure he felt up to going. The last time had been entirely
reasonable, when Xander had gotten his second good look at where he was. 
He'd never been to L.A., but he was sure the comparison was closer than it
was to Sunnydale. Small and Californian, this was not. But, as he'd said
-- bookstore -- so they'd snuck past the library and gone to visit
DelBorigoss.

He did manage not to rubberneck the entire trip to the bookstore, although
he wasn't sure he didn't want to just spend an hour standing on a sidewalk,
staring. Any sidewalk. Maybe his grandmum would take him out so he could
stare without Giles hanging about looking at him like he was being precious.

Of course then he'd have to deal with Maggie looking at him like
that...but somehow that was different. On her it looked good. On Giles it
looked...well, all right. It looked like something that needed a liplock. 
But he wasn't thinking those thoughts, so he didn't need Giles standing
around making him think those thoughts.

Giles gave him a questioning look and he realized some of what he was
thinking must've showed on his face. He went for outraged innocent 'who me
I was looking for the bookstore -- look there it is! books!' expression. 
He raised his eyebrows.

Giles looked heavenward for a moment and shook his head with a faint
smile. Luckily they were almost to the bookstore, otherwise Xander would
have felt obligated to raise one eyebrow further. He did, however, do a
quick mental check of his wallet, which was more difficult than usual
considering he was dealing with pounds instead of dollars.

He knew he had enough to buy whatever he wanted -- if he didn't want to
have any cash left for the month. On the other hand, he reminded himself
as he followed Giles to the front door, he had two or three someones who
would probably buy him everything he wanted. The reflexive guilt kicked
him at that point, and Xander decided that he'd leave that for later in
their vacation, when he really was short of cash.

A small bell over the door rang as they entered. The shop was dimly lit
and crammed full of overloaded bookshelves. It smelled like, well, like the
library at school, way back among the furthest stacks. Giles' domain.

The scent immediately put Xander at ease. He stopped just inside the
door, and looked around. Rubbernecking here wasn't going to get him any
Looks. Not, really, that he cared. He wished Willow could be here,
though. 

Someone cleared their throat right by his ear and he suddenly became
acutely aware that Giles was standing right behind him, close enough he
could feel the heat of the man's body against his own.

"Wow." 

It wasn't just that there were a lot of books. It was that none of them
looked new, none of them looked like there was more than a single copy on
the shelves. There were no mass market, coffee table books. OK, maybe
Giles' coffee table. But more than that was the feeling that, when he
tried to ask that intuitive little voice which way he should go to find
that *one* perfect book, all he got back was "Bookstore". 

Giles nudged him gently from behind.

"What?" He tried to read the cards hanging from some of the shelves. He
wasn't sure they were supposed to be helpful. Was 'Egg' supposed to be a
genre or an alphabetical listing?

"You can see them better if you actually move out of the doorway."

"Really?" He started to grin, then hurried forward when he noticed
another customer heading for the door. He heard Giles' quiet chuckle
behind him as his guardian followed him deeper into the store. Xander
decided not to try to do this in any organized fashion. He stopped at the
third bookshelf, and starting reading titles. 

Two minutes later he had totally lost track of Giles. Anywhere else, the
thought would've been disturbing. Here, he was surrounded by books.



According to his watch, two hours had gone by. It felt like he'd barely
had time to search a single long bookshelf, though as he looked around, he
realized he'd covered the entire front quarter of the store. Mr. Stevenson,
behind the counter, had let him stack his selections near the cash register
on the table there, apparently for that express purpose. Xander decided it
was time to start looking around for Giles. 

He finally found his guardian reading a book over near the right wall. 
Giles looked up when he approached. "Taking a breather?"

Xander shook his head. Trying to not sound as sheepish as he felt, he
asked, "How many can I get?"

"How many have you found that you wanted?"

"Five that I really want. Seven that I really and mostly want. Total,
twelve."

"Only twelve?"

"Well, there's five I wanna get Willow. And two I think Buffy would like,
and two for Oz - I *think* they're journals by some guy who was a werewolf
a couple hundred years ago. And Angel--" He stopped as he realized Giles
was looking at him.

"What about for yourself?"

Xander glanced down at his feet. "I didn't get that far."

He could feel Giles smiling at him. "Do you want to look now? Or come back
later?"

"If I look now, I'm just gonna find more books." 

"Yes, that is what one does in a book store. Well, besides simply browse."

"And have to carry them." Xander half-smiled.

"Actually, they have a delivery service for good customers."

"Are--" He stopped. "All the way to Sunnydale?" Of course they were
good customers. Mr. Stevenson had already known his name when he'd told
Xander he could stack his books on the table.

Giles nodded. "Though if there are some you want to read while you're
here, we can just have them delivered to the house."

"But none of them are for me," he reminded Giles. "Oh." Right. He'd
said he didn't want to look because he didn't want to carry them. Hadn't
mentioned that he was beginning to feel a lot like he had during the shoe
debacle. He glanced down -- the boots they'd bought that day on his feet. 
Comfortable, too. "What are you getting?"

Giles gestured to a small pile of three tomes that sat next to Xander's
much larger one. Xander walked over and picked the first one up. He tried
to read the spine, then gave Giles a confused look.

"We can work on you learning to read it this fall if you'd like."

Xander groaned. He hadn't even started *Latin* yet. Then a horrible
thought occurred. "How long am I gonna have to take extra lessons?" 

"I thought you were enjoying them." Giles looked a bit uncertain.

"But every time I start to get a handle on one language, you add another. 
Pretty soon I'm gonna be geeky and no one but you and Willow will
understand me." He tried looking put upon, but Xander could see Mr.
Stevenson, behind Giles, grinning broadly.

"You can stop any time."

Xander blinked. "But you said...didn't you say...huh. You *didn't* ever
say how long they were gonna last." He narrowed his eyes. "You sneaky
guy."

Giles just looked at him, though Xander could see the corners of his eyes
crinkling up in a barely restrained smile.

"Just for that I'm gonna...." He knew he didn't want to quit any of his
extras lessons. Perhaps when school began, he'd cut back. He wasn't going
to threaten to actually misbehave, again, that was for sure. And
threatening to drink more soda was moot -- he did that, anyhow.

Giles stood waiting patiently for him to finish his threat with an
interested expression.

"Make you buy my books." All right, not *much* of a threat. But fiscally
a sound option. For his own wallet.

"I was going to do that, anyway."

"You were?"

He nodded.

"Even the ones for everyone else?" Which was cool if not, he could just
go back and pick out some for himself. 

"That's up to you. Would you rather buy them yourself?"

Xander opened his mouth. Then stopped. They were supposed to be *his*
gifts, not Giles'. On the other hand.... "Could you tell me how much I'm
trying to spend, first?" 

"Let's see." Giles stepped closer and looked at all the prices, frowning
as he added and translated into American. "About $235, roughly."

"Dollars? Pounds?" Xander wondered why he was having trouble breathing. 
Hell, he'd only brought $500 with him! He glanced at the stack. 
Everything except Willow's could go back on the shelves.

"Dollars." 

"Eep." He started separating the books into two stacks. Five books for
Willow, looked to only be 150 something. Pounds, probably. 

Then Giles was handing him something. Brightly coloured somethings. He
started, but didn't take it. It looked like as much money as he already
had on him. "I forgot to give you your vacation money before we left,"
Giles explained.

"I get vacation money?" Xander tried counting the bills in Giles' hand. 
If he had the conversions right, it was...a lot.

"Yes. It's an old family tradition."

"How old?" The question slipped out before he could tell himself it was a
rude thing to accuse Giles of. He took the money, and eyed the two stacks
of books. 

"Very old. Very, very old."

Which probably meant it had arisen sometime in the last ten seconds. 
Xander grinned. He was looking forward all over again to going to Egypt,
and Spain, and Iowa. Then next year they could go to DisneyWorld.

"If you need more, please ask." Giles looked at him seriously. "I don't
want you to have to worry about money."

Xander started to tease him, asking for a thousand upfront and he
*wouldn't*. Then he took a deep mental breath, and let it out slowly. 
Like opening his eyes and seeing things that had been there all along.

It was a kid thing. He didn't have to worry about money.

Giles must've seen the realization on his face because he merely nodded
and went back to the earlier subject. "Do you want to look some more?"

"I think the word we're looking for here is 'duh'."

There was an entire back half of the store he hadn't even gotten to look
at, yet.

*************

Two days later, Xander was beginning to think he liked England. Almost
used to being so many hours off his schedule, almost used to the
mostly-familiar food and deceptively-not-familiar language, his
grandparent's house was, at the least, a place he could see visiting again.
Often.

They hadn't gone wandering about the city much, other than a few, select
bookstores. Giles was waiting until he was ready to deal with a few
million strangers -- though Xander wasn't sure it was strangers he was
worried about. Regardless, he was enjoying himself, today. "You did
*what*?" 

Giles shifted uncomfortably on the rock he was sitting on. "It's not that
unbelievable."

"But *here*? We're like, what, thirty yards from the house?" True, you
didn't have a completely clear line of sight to any windows, from here. 
Trees blocked almost everything.

But still.

"It was dark. And rather foggy."

He shook his head. "I cannot *believe* I got in trouble for getting drunk
and smoking and...well, everything else I did. Geez," he looked around,
trying to envision what Giles had described. OK, bad idea. "Man, naked?!"

"The ritual required we be clothed only in the moon's light." Giles' tone
was halfway between justification and embarrassment.

He laughed. "Yeah, ritual. Five fourteen year olds, naked, outside? 
Uh-huh - did you actually do a spell?"

That earned him a Look. "Why am I telling you this again?"

"Um--" He thought fast. "So I won't have to make the same mistakes you
made?" Because the thought of a young Rupert Giles, outside on a wild
summer night, eyes blazing and dressed only in fog and faint wisps of
moonlight.... Oh, yeah. Bad thought. Think Spike.

Naked, in moonlight.

Xander told himself to think something that wouldn't make his jeans bulge
where anyone, especially Giles, could see.

"I think you are enjoying this too much."

"No, no, no" he said quickly. "I'm shocked and horrified that you would
do such a...irresponsible and dangerous thing. Corrupting your friends,
and..uh..tracking mud all over the floor afterwards." He shook his head,
looking stern. Then he broke up, laughing at the expression on Giles'
face. As he watched, Giles' expression softened into a smile of real
affection. "Someday I'm gonna find out how many of these stories you make
up just to make me laugh at you."

Behind them, a strange voice said, "I'd be willing to verify some, if you
like."

Xander spun around, surprised he hadn't noticed anyone approaching. An
elderly but still spry man stood there. It was a stranger but the family
resemblance to Giles was obvious.

"Uncle Percy," Giles said, in a surprised and pleased voice, standing and
walking over to Xander's side. 

Xander stopped trying to figure out how to back up a step unobtrusively. 
"The pilot?"

Percy smiled. "Been telling tales, has he?"

Xander nodded. "He's been showing me around the grounds," he offered as
an explanation. 

"We weren't expecting you." Giles was half a step ahead of Xander, now. 
Xander hadn't decided yet if he were over-reacting.

"Yes, I was at Mursten's all morning. Thought I'd drop in and see you,
while I was in this part of the city." Percy smiled, cheerfully. "I only
got back to the island yesterday; been in France for three weeks. Anyhow,
I didn't intend to interrupt, just wanted to stop and say hello." He made
no move to come any closer -- Xander got the impression he was about to
walk away.

Giles gave Xander a questioning look.

"I saw the wings you gave dad." 

Another smile graced the old man's face. "You still have those?"

"Of course. Closest I'm ever going to get to my own, I'm afraid."

"It's still not too late, you know," Percy said, seriously. "Perhaps not
a fighter, but a small twin engine or even a helicopter." 

Xander glanced at Giles, wondering how he would take this suggestion. 
Surely it wasn't anything he hadn't already thought of, himself. 

"Where would I find the time?"

"It only takes a few weekends to learn the basics," Percy said. "I
suppose you might not have much time to fly, but you still can learn. 
Before you get too old." The expression on his face was almost dark,
scowling as if with displeasure. Xander knew what it was, though, and
turned back to Giles. If he had to, *he* could ask to learn, and drag
Giles along with him.

Oo. A helicopter. A *helicopter*. 

"I...will give it some thought." Xander could hear the waffling in his
guardian's voice.

Yeah, all he needed was a nudge. "Would I get to go up in the plane?" 
Xander carefully sounded excited, but not hyper. He didn't want Giles to
give up his flying, to allow Xander to do it instead.

"Don't see why not," Percy answered, winking at him.

"That would be so cool." Xander grinned at Giles.

Who raised an eyebrow. "I seem to be outnumbered."

Xander just smiled innocently. A similar one appeared on Percy's face. 
"As a matter of fact, I've a friend who owns a small plane. We could go
up, while the two of you are here. Let you get a feel for it."

Xander watched as pure, unabashed delight blossomed in Giles' eyes. "You
sure it would be no trouble?"

"For you? No trouble at all, Rupert." 

Xander waited until it was clear Giles wasn't thinking of any more actual,
good excuses, and gave Percy a 'covert' thumbs-up.

"Next weekend, then?" Percy asked.

"Yeah!" Xander answered. He glanced over and found Giles rolling his
eyes. "Say 'yes, thank you,' dad."

Another eye roll. "Next weekend would be fine."

"Excellent," Percy said with a slight chuckle.

Xander just shook his head at Giles. "Raising you is so *difficult*
sometimes."

Yet another eye roll, this one accompanied by an affectionate smile.

Xander turned to Percy. "Do you know how to fly a helicopter?"
**************

Part Eight


Xander stopped trying to control his need to bounce all over the place by
the time they went inside. They'd sat on the rocks talking with Percy for
nearly an hour, and Xander was glad he'd dropped by. More glad they'd
talked Giles into doing this. Not because he got to go along -- which he
did! -- but because Xander still felt Giles needed a vacation from being
the grown-up. At least he needed to have fun more often. 

Giles had continued to smile indulgently, but there was a hint of a bounce
in his own step. They'd said good-bye to Percy at the driveway, and now
Xander was debating heading for the library, heading for the stack of books
he'd bought, or wandering around to find his grandmum. 

Everett came down the stairs while he was still trying to decide. "Ah,
there you two are. I was beginning to think you were going to stay out all
day. Did you enjoy your walk?"

"Yeah!" Xander grinned. He quickly edited out half a dozen things Giles
had told him -- which his grandda probably knew about, but pretended he
didn't. "We met Percy, and we're going flying next weekend. Do you know
where grandmum is?" He was hoping she was near -- possibly in -- the
kitchen. Food good. And she fed him sugar.

"In her study, I believe."

"Thanks!" He headed down the hall, wanting to tell her all about what he
and Percy had done. He had a feeling she'd be pleased. He'd gotten just
around the corner when he remembered that they had, earlier that morning,
talked about going out to dinner. He stopped to go back and ask if they
still were doing so. Before he rounded the corner again he heard his
grandda's voice, and he stopped.

"Flying, Rupert?" There was no mistaking the tone of voice.

"It's just one afternoon," Giles replied, sounding defensive. "Xander
wanted to go."

"So this is just an excursion. Introduce Xander to Percy?" This tone was
different. Xander couldn't tell if Giles' father disapproved. He
certainly didn't sound encouraging.

"Does it matter what it is?" If anything, the defensiveness got stronger.

"No, of course not." Everett sounded dismissive. "I think...you should
do whatever you can, for Xander. If he'll enjoy that sort of thing, then
by all means."

Xander heard Giles sigh, the sound carrying a weariness that he'd rarely
seen in his guardian. "Yes, father." Xander scowled. This wasn't about
*him*. Couldn't his grandda see that? "If you'll excuse me, I have some
reading to do." 

Xander pressed himself against the wall, knowing it wasn't going to hide
him -- but fortunately, Giles didn't come his way. Xander considered if he
should sneak away or actually go confront his grandda. Then he heard
Everett mutter a quiet curse.

It was enough to make up his mind for him and he moved forward to go talk
to Everett. He had no idea what he was going to say... accuse his grandda
of upsetting Giles? If he were blind enough to not know, Xander wasn't
sure he could convince him. But he rounded the corner, and saw his grandda
look over at him with a slight look of surprise.

"Xander, wha-"

"We aren't doing it for me," he said simply.

"You were listening."

"I was on my way back to ask if we were going out to dinner. I-- didn't
mean to eavesdrop." Which wasn't true, but he hadn't intended anything by
it.

Everett sighed, sounding very much like his son. "I always seem to say the
wrong thing with Rupert."

"Why don't you go tell him what you want to say, then?" He walked
forward, ready to escort him to Giles, if he had to. 

"It's not that easy."

That made no sense. "How can it not be easy? You love him, right?"

"Of course." He spread his hands. "He's my son."

"Then why wouldn't you want to...say what you want? What you really feel?
How can you not wanna be nice to him if you love him?"

"I try, but..." 

"But what?" He found himself wavering between hurt, for Giles' sake, and
anger. "How can you let him think you don't-- that you think-- You don't
even have the excuse my father had. He at least didn't like me. But you
don't have any excuses -- why can't you just say...." His emotions reached
up and choked off his words and he turned and walked away quickly.

Most of the things he really wanted to say, weren't intended for his
grandda, anyhow. 

He ran up the stairs to his -- Giles' -- room. Flung himself onto the
bed, half-aware that this bed was so much larger than his bed at home, and
the larger size of the room all made for much better
running-in-and-flinging-self-on-bed. He landed in the middle of the bed,
bouncing once as he grabbed the pillow. Not sure what was bothering him
most, he reached over and grabbed Jesse, his stuffed wolf, as well.

He was a little worried he was gonna get into trouble for what he'd said
to his grandda, but he wasn't sorry he'd said it. If he did get into
trouble, that was OK. 

He wasn't sure how long he'd lain there when there was a quiet knock at
the door. He hesitated before calling 'come in' and asked himself if he
cared who it was. It was an interesting experience to realize there was
more than one person who might be knocking. "Come in."

The door opened and Maggie looked in. "Xander?"

He rolled partly over, so he could look back at her. "Yeah?"

"Everett said-" She cut herself off, looking at him, eyes full of concern.
"Are you all right?"

He nodded, though he probably wasn't. But he wanted to let her know he
wasn't freaking out. Just...upset. 

She came in all the way and sat on the edge of his bed. "Do you want to
talk about it?"

Xander scooted up, turning around and leaning up against the headboard. 
Jesse was tucked under an arm, and he looked at his grandmum. "What did he
say?" 

"That you were upset by something he said. And that you mentioned your
father."

"Yeah." He looked away. "I didn't mean to say anything...I shouldn't
have. I just wish grandda would say what he wants to. How he feels."

"So do I," Maggie said with a sigh.

Encouraged, Xander asked, "Why is it so hard for him? Why can't he just
*say* whatever it is he really wants to?"

"Speaking his feelings has never been easy for Everett. And when it comes
to Rupert..." Maggie shook her head. 

"How can it be hard to tell someone you love them?" Xander felt himself
growing impatient. Not with Maggie...rather, he wanted to go back down and
demand to know why his grandda would refuse to tell his son anything of
that sort. "Withholding it when you feel it is as bad as just not feeling
it at all." Suddenly he knew what was bothering him the most -- to think
that Giles might feel the same thing Xander felt. 

"It was the way Everett was raised. How his parents related to him."

"But--" He realized there probably wasn't any point in arguing with her
about it. She probably knew it all better than he did. Xander shook his
head. "It makes him feel like grandda doesn't care. I know what that's
like and it's awful! How can he *do* that?"

"He doesn't know any other way to relate."

"So he'd rather hurt someone than learn something new?" A fierce stab of
anger hit Xander, and it took all his concentration to not jump up and run
down to find his grandda. Poor Jesse the wolf was being strangled, though.
He tried to relax his grip.

"He doesn't know how." Maggie's voice was soft and he could hear the
sadness in it.

Xander rolled his eyes. "It isn't that hard. Hell, I can say it in five
languages, by now. If dad has his way, I'll be able to say it in twelve by
the time I'm twenty." He wanted to scream. Instead he threw Jesse across
the room. Then he screamed. "It's a fucking waste!" And wondered if he
was allowed to curse in his grandparents' house.

"Yes, it is."

He looked over at Maggie and realized she felt the same -- how much she
felt the same. He got up off the bed and went over to pick Jesse up. 
Smoothed his fur, then went back over to the bed. Holding him out, he
asked, "You wanna throw him, too?"

She smiled and gently pressed the wolf back into his hands. "I usually
throw some of Everett's shirts. Wrinkles them horribly."

Xander chuckled, once, and laid back down on the bed. "It doesn't work,
does it? It hurts so much," he added, his voice breaking a little.

"I know," Maggie said softly, offering a hug.

He crawled over and into her embrace. As soon as her arms tightened
around him, he said, "He never liked me, never loved me, and it hurt so
bad. I don't want him feeling like this...."

"I know."

Resting there, Xander realized there was really nothing more to say. 

**************

"I want chocolate."

Maggie raised an eyebrow. "For the entree?"

"Chicken mole'?" He tried for cute.

Giles put a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever you decide will be fine, mum."

Xander gave Giles a stricken look. Then he stage-whispered, "You're not
helping! I want her chocolate mousse pie." Maggie had made one a few days
before -- possibly to console them both over the idiocy that was reserved
British gentlemen. 

"Trust me," Giles whispered back.

He shook his head. "I know she'll make one for dessert. That isn't the
issue. I'm hoping for appetizers and entree, as well." The only reason
was that he wanted to know just how far he could push. Being spoiled was a
new and dizzying experience -- and if he could get nothing but chocolate
all day, he wasn't going to miss his chance.

"Perhaps some after-dinner hot chocolate," Maggie mused.

"Oh! Yeah, good one." This grandmum thing was definitely the best.

"I fear I'm going to have to serve something else for appetizers and
entree for the chocolately challenged."

Xander blinked. "There are people like that?"

Maggie winked. "Sadly, yes."

Xander grinned, then noticed the look Giles was giving them both. "What?"


"I didn't say anything."

Xander just pointed at Giles' eyes.

"I'm going to start wearing dark glasses."

"But then will I know what you're saying?" Xander stepped closer to
Giles, giving him his best learned-this-look-from-Willow. Giles didn't
answer in words, but the rolling of his eyes spoke eloquently.

There was a soft 'ahem' from the doorway, and Xander glanced over. Xander
took a step back, his amusement fading into the polite veneer he'd managed
whenever he'd seen Everett lately. As he had every time he'd observed
this, Giles gave him a questioning, slightly puzzled look.

"Yes?" Giles asked his father, who was looking at him expectantly.

"Mr. Porter just phoned. Asked if you could come down to headquarters --
swears it will only take a couple hours." Everett glanced very briefly at
Xander as well, but his expression didn't change.

"He always says that." Giles sighed. "I suppose I had better before he
decides to come here, instead."

"You're going to Watcher Headquarters?" Xander asked. They'd been
planning to go visit next week -- Giles had promised a lengthy tour during
which he could harass the council members.

Giles grimaced. "Being summoned, more accurately. No doubt Porter wants to
take the opportunity to berate me in person." 

"Are you gonna miss dinner?"

"Barring Armageddon, I will be back in plenty of time."

"Good. Because otherwise Uncle Percy and I will have to swap *really*
embarrassing stories." He forced an easy smile. He wasn't worried -- too
much -- about being left alone with his grandparents and Percy. 

"The horror." Giles smiled as he got to his feet.

Xander stuck his tongue out. 

A brief smile, then Giles' expression turned serious. "You'll be all right
when I'm gone?"

"Sure." He nodded casually. Not too fast, not too obvious. "If you're
late can I have your piece of pie?" 

"Added incentive to be back here in time."

"Or added incentive for you to be late." Xander grinned.

"I'll see you later. *Before* dinner."

"Meanie." Xander pouted.

"Aren't you the one who says, 'All's fair in love and chocolate'?" Giles
grinned and left.


Xander spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen with his grandmum,
learning how to make a pie crust and practicing his Greek. Maggie taught
him a few choice phrases in Latin, as well. Alas gallinaceas de viae
lacteae.

'I want a Milky Way.' Useful stuff.

Late afternoon came and Percy arrived. Xander started casting glances
toward the front door, as Giles should be back any time. Maggie kept
Xander busy, helping her while Percy and Everett talked in the study. Then
they were setting the table, and Percy came in, and still no Giles. Xander
told himself the unsettled feeling he had wasn't anything to worry about. 
Yet.

Then the time they were to eat came and went. Maggie held up starting, and
now Xander wasn't the only one glancing toward the door worriedly. When the
phone rang, they all jumped. Everett went to answer it. Xander couldn't
hear the softly voiced conversation but as he watched, Everett went totally
pale. And his expression...

Xander stood, nearly dropping his chair to the floor in his haste. Maggie
and Percy were right there, as well, all three gathered around as they
heard Everett say "How badly?"

Xander found his hand being grabbed, and squeezed tightly.

"I see. We'll come immediately of course."

No one said a word as Everett hung up the phone, and turned to them. 
"Rupert's in hospital--" was as far as he got. Xander squeezed the hand
in his tighter. Then everything sort of settled down, far away, like it
did when the vampires finally came out to play. He heard the words "car
accident," "unconscious," and "still looking at him" as Everett continued
talking.

Xander turned to Maggie. "Do we need to turn anything off in the kitchen?"

"I.." She looked stricken, but after a few seconds a very familiar
determination settled on her face. He'd seen it often enough on her son's
face. "No, everything's under control there."

He looked back at Everett, who nodded. Percy said quietly, "I'll drive,
then, shall I?" before gently herding them all towards the door.
*********

Part Nine

The trip to the hospital seemed to take forever, but eventually they
pulled into the parking lot. Xander followed closely behind as they headed
inside. He was familiar with hospitals, too familiar -- though he couldn't
remember feeling quite this much nothing. When Willow had been taken to
the ER for stitches, he'd felt jumpy and hyper, trying to keep the nine
year old from crying as they cleaned her up. Every time they went to get
themselves bandaged up after a good night's slaying, he'd felt only the
adrenaline high.

And when they'd brought him to the hospital after his father had tried to
kill him, he had been so full of emotion he'd felt like he'd been leaking
all over the place. But this was different. When Maggie took him into a
waiting room to sit with her, he just felt nothing.

Everett went up to talk to the nurse at the reception desk to find out
where Giles was and how he was doing. Percy stood beside them in the
waiting area, glancing down at them then back at Everett, all of them
trying to hear whatever the nursing sister had to say.

When Everett came back, he looked significantly less worried. "He has a
concussion and a broken wrist. But other than that, he's all right."

Maggie sighed, sounded for all the world like she might've collapsed, had
she been standing. Everett went to her, sitting beside her and embracing
her. Percy clapped Xander on the shoulder, and Xander just looked up at
him, then over at his grandda. "Do we get to see him yet?"

"They said one person could go back." Everyone looked at Xander.

He started to offer to let Maggie go. Got as far as opening his mouth
when, instead, he stood and looked for whomever would show him where to go.
The nursing sister whom Everett had been talking to was waiting for him and
smiled kindly as she led him further into the hospital.

"What happened?" he asked in a low voice. Hospital hallways tended to
make him subdued.

She glanced at him. "Side impact car crash. I'm afraid I don't know much
of the details."

Xander frowned, worried. It didn't sound like anything demonic, or
vampiric, or anything evil of the call in the Slayer sort. A mundane car
crash.... He suddenly needed to see Giles, very badly.

He didn't have to wait much longer; the next room they passed, the nurse
stopped in front of and gestured him in. Giles was lying on a bed,
surrounded by the usual array of machines, tubes in his arms and the soft
beeping of a monitor. 

All noticed and forgotten as soon as he saw Giles' eyes on him. Xander
swallowed. "Hey. Hit something?" His voice was shaking as he walked over.

"Something hit me actually," Giles replied, holding out the hand that
wasn't in a splint.

"We forgot to teach you to duck?" he asked, still lightly. Then his hand
touched Giles' and he had to hold himself very still. "You're OK?"

"I will be." Giles smiled faintly. "Being hard-headed does have some
benefits." His expression turned serious and he clasped Xander's hand
tighter. "You?"

Xander noted the placement of bandages. Recalled that no one had said
anything about his ribs. He leaned forward and slid one arm across Giles'
chest, and hung onto him, pressing his face into the sterile sheet that
smelled like hospital-laundries everywhere. He was enfolded in turn in an
one-armed embrace.

It was incredibly awkward, bending his knees so he could lean over and
hold on. He didn't care, stopping thinking about it as he closed his eyes.
"I thought I told you--" he choked out, before stopping so he wouldn't have
to force himself to talk when he couldn't, really.

"Does this mean I'm grounded?"

"Stop it!" he shouted, standing up and trying desperately to control
himself so he wouldn't get thrown out. "You're not--" He realised he was
about to say something stupid. 

Giles had half sat up, wincing as he did so and wordlessly held out his
hand to Xander again.

Xander moved immediately forward and laid a hand on Giles' shoulder. "Lay
down," he said gently, fears swallowed by other needs.

"Yes, that might be a good idea," Giles said faintly, letting himself be
pushed back down.

Xander helped ease him down, and spent a moment fussing over the
arrangement of the IV tube. Far too much experience, he told himself, as
he made sure Giles was once more as comfortable as a man with a concussion
could be. "You need anything? Drugs? Water? Mousse pie?"

Giles chuckled at that, wincing a little. "You left me some?"

"We didn't eat, actually. Waiting for you to get home." Voice tried to
crack again. Xander frowned, instead. Told himself he could deal.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again," he whispered. He took hold of Giles' hand, again and
held it carefully.

"I'll do my best."

"Good. Did they say...if you're staying here for very long?"

Giles started to shake his head then thought better of it. "Not long. As
soon as they put a cast on my wrist-"

"Can I stay?"

His hand was squeezed again. "Of course." 

He had to occasionally step back, out of the doctors' or nurses' way, but
for the most part he reminded right at Giles' bedside. When they had the
cast on, one of the sisters asked if he would like to step out for a
moment, to let one of the other visitors in. She said it kindly, made
Xander think that no one had actually asked her to relay the request.

When he saw Giles about to tell him he needn't, Xander smiled. "Actually,
yeah. I have to go do something, anyhow."

"You're sure?"

"I'll be right back." He let go of Giles' hand -- then leaned forward and
laid a very light kiss on the unbruised portion of his forehead. He
considered the dozen things he wanted to say, and finally just repeated,
"I'll be back."

He carried the look on Giles' face with him as he turned and walked back
to the waiting room. He told, then twice reassured Maggie that she could
go in. Then he looked around. "Anyone know where the gift shop is? I
need to buy some stickers."

******************

Maggie asked him if he wanted a plate brought up, but Xander shook his
head. He wasn't sure he could eat, not even a slice of her pie. He sat in
a chair pulled up beside Giles' bed -- he wanted to crawl in there with
him, but knew Giles didn't need someone jostling the bed. Xander had had
concussions before. Sometimes breathing made you nauseaous.

They'd brought Giles home, gotten him to bed with much fussing and
worrying -- at one point making Everett comment that they had, perhaps, too
much help before stepping out of the room with Percy in tow. There had been
a long moment right after, when Giles had become more silent and his eyes
had drifted to the door, full of something similiar to hurt. But as soon as
he saw Xander watching him, he shook it off and went back to enduring the
fussing over him with good humor.

Xander decided that it was a good idea to try yelling at his grandda,
again. Not now, though. Now he sat quietly and watched Giles sleep. He'd
thought he'd be full of dark and frightened thoughts, now that everything
was finally still. Instead, all he did was sit and watch. Fought the urge
to crawl into bed.

A soft creak at the door made him look up. Everett stood in the doorway. 
Xander scowled, before quickly trying to work his expression back into
something polite. His scowl faded a little as Everett came in, his gaze
focused on his son.

"How is he?" Everett asked softly.

"Sleeping." 

"Good." He stared at Giles for a long moment, his expression more
unguarded than Xander had seen before.

He really did love Giles. That was clear. Xander suddenly felt sorry for
him, that he couldn't actually say it. He waved his grandda over. Everett
gratefully took the other chair, glancing at Xander before his gaze seemed
drawn back to his son. "He's gonna be OK," Xander said, knowing it was
probably not necessary, or expected. He just didn't know how to introduce
the conversation he wanted to have.

"Of course he is." Xander wasn't sure if Everett was trying to convince
him or himself.

"I... I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately," he offered. 

Everett glanced at him again. "I've probably deserved it."

Xander leaned forward, resting against the side of the high-back chair. 
"Why can't you tell him? Why's it so hard?"

"I try. But I always say the wrong thing."

"Do you love him?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I do." His gaze was drawn back to Giles. "More than that, I'm
proud of him."

Xander flicked his gaze to Giles, dissappointed to see he was still
asleep. But perhaps if grandda practised, now, it'd be easier for him to
say later. "How come you don't just say it, then?"

Everett continued to stare at his son as he answered. "I pushed him so
hard when he was young. He was so...he had so much potential, I just wanted
to see him succeed, to live up to it. And he did, he has, but I've withheld
my approval for so long, he doesn't believe that I can actually give it."

"So you prove it to him by still not telling him?" Xander shook his head.
"That doesn't make sense." He wished he had a tape recorder or something
to play this back.

"Every time I broach the subject, he assumes I'm upset with him and he
says something, then I say something back and..." Everett shrugged
defeatedly. "And we're back where we started. Or further apart."

"Maybe you should try...not broaching the subject. Just say it." Xander
shifted in his chair, beginning to feel a little self-conscious. "Say 'I'm
proud of you' then walk away before you can say anything that'll make him
think you're qualifying it or something."

Everett smiled faintly, looking very much like his son just then. "Just
like that?"

Xander grinned. "It's easy." He turned to Giles and said, softly but
quite clearly, "Son, I'm proud of you." Then he grinned at Everett. "See?"

After staring at him for a long moment, Everett turned back to Giles. "I'm
proud of you, Rupert," he said in a very quiet voice.

Xander didn't bother trying to hide his grin. He reached over and patted
his grandda's arm. "See? It's easy. Now try, 'Xander, I want to buy you
a car.'"

Everett laughed softly and patted his hand. "Nice try, Xander."

Xander smiled, then gave his grandda a more serious look. "Thank you." 
Then he winked. "I'm proud of you."

"Thank you." His grandda got to his feet. "I should go; you should get to
bed," he suggested.

"Yeah." Xander nodded, knowing he wasn't going to sleep any time soon. 
He turned back to Giles, settling in to watch him as Everett left.

Only to find Giles' eyes open and watching him.

He blinked. "You heard--"

"Every word."

For a second he thought he'd need to apologize. Badgering Everett
probably wasn't polite. Then Xander smiled. "You heard every word."

"Every word," Giles repeated, with a bit of wonder in his voice. "Thank
you."

He grinned, and bounced in his chair. "Welcome." He bounced again. He
decided he loved this expression, almost as much as he loved the one when
Giles was looking at him like he loved him. Or the 'dad' look. The best
part about this one, though, was that he'd never seen it before.

And now he was.

"Here I thought he was upset about the car earlier..." Giles continued,
still looking somewhat dazed. 

"Oo, maybe I shoulda have asked him to buy *you* a new car." Xander
leaned forward, stopped himself before he touched the bed. Jostling, bad.

But Giles held out his non-casted arm invitingly. Gingerly, he crept onto
the bed. Moving slowly, freezing once when Giles rolled slightly towards
him as the mattress dipped. Soon, though, he was lying on his side, tucked
up beside Giles, not caring that he was still wearing his shoes and would
probably regret in the morning when he awoke, having slept the night on top
of the duvet.

"Much better," Giles murmured, sounding half asleep again.

"Much," he agreed softly, watching as Giles closed his eyes. "Go to
sleep," he whispered, sure that even as he spoke, the words were no longer
needed.

Giles' steady breathing eventually lulled him into following.

***********

Part Ten


Xander peered over the railing to look down into the front room. It was
the first room off the foyer, and it was currently serving as the coat
check room. There were three people down there whom Xander had never seen
before. Apparently his reprieve was over.

He wasn't surprised -- yesterday his grandparents had fielded numerous
phone calls, giving out updates and explaining that they were having no
visitors that day. Today, though, all bets were off.

Xander didn't mind -- he certainly couldn't tell everyone they couldn't
come see Giles, just because it gave *him* the wiggins. It was a big
house; it would be easy enough to stay out of the way until everyone was
gone.

Among the general murmur of conversation below, he heard his name and then
saw Maggie look upwards. He fought the urge to step back, managing to
simply stand where he was and meet the gazes of the people all now staring
at him. He also fought the urge to hold up his arms and say "My Fellow
British!" -- it didn't have quite the same ring.

Maggie gave him a reassuring smile and he almost had enough courage to go
down and join them. He *knew* these people wanted to meet him, too, but
somehow knowing that made him even more self-conscious about doing so. 
Didn't want someone to shake his hand and belt out "so! you're the boy Ol'
Rupert rescued from a monster, eh?' Or worse, have someone ask where he'd
come from at all.

He stayed for a moment longer and then he turned and ran. Maybe he could
go hide in the library. Even if someone came in after him, they might not
see him, amongst all those books....

But he found his footsteps carrying him towards his bedroom. Giles' old
room. Probably a better place to hide, he told his subconscious. He had
books in there, anyway, and there was always the tree. 

He only made it partway down the hall when he heard Maggie's voice call
his name. Swallowing hard, he stopped and turned.

She walked up to him, her expression one of understanding. He smiled
disarmingly. "Hey. I figured I'd just let everyone catch up on old
times." He knew he wasn't fooling her, but maybe she'd let him get away
with it.

"They've gone in to see Rupert." She leaned down enough to meet his gaze.
"They'd like to meet you if you're up to it."

"Oh. Yeah, they..I guess they would. I do. I mean, yeah." He shrugged.
"Why not?" There were only three of them, after all. And Percy hadn't
been so bad. He realized he'd probably draw more attention to himself if
he kept hiding. 

Maggie reached out for his hand. "I was going to get together some tea
and snacks for them. Would you like to help?"

Xander smiled. "Yeah. I'm good at snacks."

It didn't take long for them to get a pot of tea made, and a tray of
biscuits put together. Xander returned his grandmum's reassuring smile,
then they headed for the den. He could hear voices talking before they
entered, among them Giles' which bolstered his courage. 

He stepped into the room with Maggie, who cheerfully announced they had
brought tea. Everyone turned to look.... Xander concentrated on setting
his tray down, then moving over to stand beside Giles' chair. Giles gave
him a welcoming smile and unobtrusively covered his hand with his own.

"So, this is Xander?" said the older man, in a decidedly British tone. 
Xander hadn't realized British accents could sound quite so...British.

"Yes, it is." Giles sounded so proud, that Xander felt himself beginning
to blush.

"I'm Dorothy, Percy's sister." The woman came forward, holding out a hand.
Xander took it and shook it briefly, silently thanking her for not going
for the cheek.

"And this is her husband, Nigel, and my cousin Jeremy," Giles introduced
the others.

"Hey," Xander managed, shaking two more hands. Then he waited.

"So you're the one taking care of Rupert now," Jeremy began. "Got to say,
I'm relieved. Man always has needed a keeper."

Xander glanced down. "I do my best." 

"We'll have to talk sometime when you're here. I'll tell you some stories
about Rupert when he was your age."

"I've been collecting embarrassing ones," he said, hoping his enthusiasm
sounded more enthusiastic than it felt. He glanced down at Giles, found
Giles watching him, and encouraging look appearing when their eyes met. 
Xander smiled, more honestly.

"I've got a few that would fall in that category." 

Xander looked back up, and gave Jeremy a hesitant smile. Maybe there were
advantages to this relatives thing.


Hours later, he was convinced there was definitely too much of a good
thing. He stopped trying to carry his part of the conversation, answering
when asked a question, but sitting quietly beside Giles otherwise. Giles
was shooting him increasingly concerned looks, and finally Xander saw him
cast an appealing one at his mother.

With the smooth ease of an experienced hostess, Maggie announced the visit
over. Barely had she mentioned that her son needed his rest, did she have
them all on their feet and headed for the door.

Xander looked up at Giles, apologetically, only to find Giles smiling at
him. He blinked, confused. Maggie came back and stood in the doorway. 
"Do you boys need more tea?"

"That would be lovely, Mum, thank you." Giles looked over. "Anything for
you?"

"No. Uh, soda?" He glanced at the tray of biscuits and saw plenty still
there. He turned back to Giles, again perplexed.

"Coming up," Maggie said with a smile before leaving again.

"Um...you're looking at me like that," Xander accused.

"Like what?"

"Like you're proud of me when I'm thinking I screwed things up." He
frowned, knowing what Giles would say to that.

"That would probably be because I am."

He had three choices - roll his eyes, because, yeah, this was exactly the
way Giles was and nothing was gonna change that; sigh despondently because
Giles didn't ever blame him for the little stuff, and it was damn
disconcerting. Third, he could do what he was starting to do, anyhow,
while he'd thought over his options.

Sitting on the floor near Giles' chair, he was in a perfect position to
lean over and rest his head on Giles' knee. Giles reached over and stroked
his hair gently. "You're being too hard on yourself."

"But I should be able to do this. They're just people...."

"They're not just people. They're family."

"That's the point! I should be able to spend more than three hours with
them." Xander had a sudden realization where he was -- sitting in a den,
in a large house in England. Sitting with Giles, his head on Giles' knee. 
All they needed was a fireplace and snow and hot cocoa, and they'd be....

"Xander, who has hurt you the most in your life?"

"Poodles." He'd been peed on, once. Ruined his tennis shoes. Then he
looked up. "I know. My parents. But these people aren't like that -- you
and grandmum keep telling me they aren't."

"But somewhere in your brain the word family is attached to pain." Giles
looked down at him eyes full of compassion. "Lessons learned that early are
hard to overcome."

"But...." 

"But?"

"I know better," he said, weakly. He should know better, by now.

"Your head knows better. Your heart is still learning."

It was possible. Might explain why it still *felt* so difficult, no
matter how many times he told himself he could do this. He wrapped his arm
around Giles' leg, and hoped to god his grandmum didn't pop in with a
camera. Giles continued to silently stroke his hair.

He sat there quietly for a few minutes, simply enjoying the sensation. 
Then he asked, "How are you doing? Head still hurt?" He glanced at the
cast and half-grinned. He'd had to buy duck stickers, instead of teddy
bears. "Arm itch?" he asked in an innocent tone.

"It hasn't yet," Giles said with a slight exasperation.

"Oh. Well, don't think about it, because then it'll...but your head's OK?"

"It still aches but not as badly."

"Good. Do you want anything?" He looked up again, dislodging Giles'
hand. 

"Actually, I think I have everything I need right here."

Xander looked around the room. "We aren't even in the library."

Giles shrugged. "Can't read with this headache anyway."

There was another joke just waiting to be added -- but Xander just smiled
and laid his head back down. He could deal with being all someone needed. 

******************

The next morning Xander was in the library after breakfast. Slumped down
in a chair, book propped up on his knees, he was set to not move for
anything less than running out of snacks. He heard the doorbell ring,
then, and stopped reading, to listen.

Unfamiliar voices. Lots of them.

He closed the book, finger carefully marking his spot, and headed out into
the hallway. He couldn't head in to get a look at whoever had arrived
without being spotted, but he counted the number of voices.

Maggie had mentioned more relatives would be dropping by, today. Giles
had told him he didn't have to make an appearance but he wanted to try
anyway. He listened as his grandmum directed the visitors to Everett's
study. Xander snuck down the hallway in time to peer around the corner. 
Three adults, two kids. 

Maybe later. He turned and snuck upstairs.

Retreating to the bedroom, he flopped down on the bed, his eyes lighting
on the phone. Maggie had said he should feel free to call home anytime and
there was one person he really wanted to talk to. Picking up the receiver,
he dialed the number from memory.

It wasn't long before he was hearing a familiar voice saying, "Yeah?" He
sounded half-awake.

Just that was enough to make him grin. "Hey!"

"Hey!" The surprised delight in Spike's voice made him grin even harder. 

"Did I wake you?"

"Yeah. Don't mind, was dreaming about you. Like this better; how's the
homeland?"

"Very British." He leaned back against the headboard getting comfortable.

"Really?" Spike sounded surprised. "Didn't used to be."

"What did it used to be? Spanish?"

"Used to be all Anglo-Saxon. Lots of drinking and shagging. Still lots
of that, really, only they wash up afterwards."

He grinned. "Things haven't changed much."

"Too bad I can't be there -- bet I could show you some great clubs...if
they're still around."

"When was the last time you were here?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, um, maybe fifty years ago. Or seventy." There was a pause. 
"Possibly a hundred."

"Things might have changed just a little since then." 

"Really?" There was the sound of rustling, then Spike's voiced came back.
"What've you and the old man been up to, then? Seeing all the fun spots of
the Rich and Tweeded?"

"We haven't done much sightseeing yet. Well, outside Giles' parents'
house. It's big enough that it could use a tour guide." Xander paused,
wondering what Spike's reaction to the next bit of news was going to be.
"And Giles was in a car accident three days ago."

There was barely a pause before, "He's all right, then?" The tone was
affected disinterest. Xander wasn't fooled.

"He'll be fine. Just got a concussion and a broken wrist. But it could've
been a lot worse." Xander heard the waver in his voice as he voiced that
thought that had been lurking in the back of his brain ever since it
happened.

"So now I 'spect he's hanging about letting you tend to his every whim." 
The casually cheerful tone was back. "Must be rough."

"Actually he's trapped in grandfather's study with a mob of relatives."

"Oh, that *does* sound painful. Explains why you're hiding out making
phone calls."

"They're a bit...overwhelming." Overwhelming didn't begin to cover the
panic he felt when he thought of joining them.

"Want me to come bite 'em? Well, boat won't get there by the time you
head for home...maybe I can call someone and have them go do some biting." 

"Spike! You can't bite Giles' relatives!" he said through half-laughter.

"Why not? They're human, aren't they? Got blood in their veins?" Spike
sounded pleased with himself.

"They're *Giles'* relatives."

"Oh. So you're saying if I arrange to have some of Giles' relatives
bitten, you'll pout at me until I promise never to do it again." Spike
sighed. 

"I still have that water gun with holy water too."

"Gonna hit me from all the way over there?" 

"I won't be in England forever."

"Gonna stop by? Got a home-coming all planned. Involves lots of not being
dressed."

His grin widened as a shiver went through him at the words. "Somehow that
doesn't surprise me."

"Well, since you helped planned it, what with all that moaning at your
going-away party...."

"I wasn't the only one moaning."

"As I recall," Spike said, sounding more posh as he pretended to be
affronted, "I wasn't the one who denied moaning, afterwards. Therefore,
you needn't try holding it over my head."

"You did deny whimpering, though."

"Because I don't whimper."

Xander snorted. "Right. Big bad vampire doesn't whimper."

"And don't you forget it." There was a pause. "Though if you wanted to
try to prove me wrong, could add an extra couple of days to the coming-home
celebration."

"I'll bring a tape recorder."

"Sorry, pet, doesn't work. The vampire thing, you know," Spike said
breezily.

"Nice try. I live with a Watcher, remember? I know what the vampire thing
entails."

"Oh, and how many audiotapes of vampires have you heard?" Spike challenged.

"One." He grinned triumphantly. "Angel protesting he couldn't be taped
actually." There was a pause. Then Xander was listening to the sound of
Spike's full-throated laughter. "Never underestimate the courage or the
ingenuity of Willow."

"Remind me to be nice to her -- and get me a copy of that tape, will you?"

"It'll be your birthday present. If I knew when your birthday was..."

"Day after you get back," he said immediately.

"How convenient."

"Aw, you wouldn't really make me wait until September, would you?" 

"Is that when it really is?" He was suddenly intently curious to know the
answer.

"Um, yeah. Can't I have the tape before then? I'll get the little witch
a dead mouse or a sprig of sparrow's bane or something," he offered. 

"What day in September?"

"You'd really make me wait?" 

"I might if you don't tell me," he threatened, knowing he wouldn't.

"16th. Wanna know what day I was killed, too? I should get two parties."

"Greedy." Xander refused to think too closely about the concept of a
deathday party.

"Not to sound totally blond or anything, but 'duh'."

"Will you wear a funny party hat?"

"Depends. Is anyone else going to be at this party besides you and me?"

Xander suddenly pictured a birthday celebration for Spike in his and
Giles' living room at home with all the scooby gang there. He shuddered.
"Depends. How do you feel about receiving multiple stakes as presents?"

"Right. You and me, both of us wearing funny party hats and icing," Spike
said matter-of-factly. Then in a more wheedlesome tone, asked, "Do we have
to wait til September?"

Xander laughed.

He talked with Spike a while longer, then realized he probably should make
an appearance to Giles' relatives. He felt better now, and though he
wasn't sure he was up to getting his cheek pinched, he did feel he could
handle some introductions and polite chit chat. 

Or possibly he'd just say hello and sit with Giles.

He promised Spike he'd call again soon, then hung up the phone. Giving
Jesse a quick squeeze for luck, he left the room and headed downstairs.

*********

Part Eleven


He heard the voices long before he got the stairs, the general level of the conversation telling him there were much more people down there than when he'd snuck away. He hesitated before continuing down. He could do this. 
He'd faced hordes of the undead. A houseful of British relatives should be a piece of cake. Granted, he was unarmed, and several of these relatives were better trained than he was. But there was still something to be said for facing up to something slimy and gross. Or to relatives. 
Hopefully the two would be mutually exclusive. 
Xander made sure his face wasn't showing any of the timidity he felt, and headed towards the study Giles had been in, yesterday. 
"You must be Xander!" 
He stopped and found himself faced with a woman, smiling brightly and bearing down on him. Middle-aged, and looking faintly of the rest of the Giles' clan he'd met so far. "Yeah. Uh, hi." 
"Oh, what a lovely accent. I'm Patti by the way. One of the numerous cousins." She held out a hand. 
"Thanks," he said, slightly bewildered. He didn't *have* an accent. He did hold out his hand, though. He glanced around the room and noticed everyone else was watching them. Two little kids who were arguing over a toy seemed to be ignoring him, actually. 
"We're all very curious, you know. The family curse, that: curiosity." 
"Oh?" he managed, keeping an eye on the two other adults who had come over. One held out a hand. 
"Nathan," he said, by way of introduction. 
"Elliot," the other put in, with a friendly smile. 
Xander kept smiling and shook both their hands. He glanced back at Patti and found her still smiling, eagerly. 
"So how do you like England?" Elliot asked presently. 
"I like it. We haven't seen much besides bookstores, yet." 
Nathan laughed. "That sounds like Rupert all right." 
Xander smiled, decided he'd done plenty towards being met by relatives, and said, "If you'll excuse me?" And headed out of the room to find Giles. 
It wasn't as easy as he thought it would've been. Everywhere he turned, there were strangers. But strangers that were all eager to meet him. It wouldn't have been so bad if he could have found Giles. But he wasn't in the study, nor the library, nor his mum's study.... Instead it was as if Xander was totally surrounded by a mansion full of strangers. 
Strangers who kept following him and asking him over and over how he liked England. 
His answers were getting increasingly short as his nervousness and anxiety grew. He did spot Everett, once, who told him Giles had been out on the back porch, and hour earlier. When Xander headed that way, he found only a group of kids, ages ranging from his own to much younger. It was getting to the point that if he didn't find Giles soon, he was just going to retreat back to his room. 
Xander was about to ask the kids if they knew where Giles was, when they looked over at him. Their elders had all been friendly and polite. These kids were frankly out-and-out staring. Some curious, some with that dreaded measuring stare. To hell with what they thought of him -- he turned and went back inside. 
And into more relatives. He found himself backing up into a wall alcove, trying to disappear. For a moment, they thankfully seemed to vanish. Xander turned around, facing the wall, and tried to take a deep breath. He rested the palms of his hands on the edge of a pedestal upon which sat a large blue and white vase. 
It was shaky, but the second seemed a little easier. He stared at the vase, and tried to calm down. It was pretty, the designs on it seemed to be raised from the ceramic surface. His fingers twitched, tracing the line of the designs in the air. 
From out of nowhere a cane came down on his hands as they rested on the edge of the pedestal. "That's a priceless vase. You shouldn't touch." 
Xander didn't jump. He looked up, pulling his hands back -- stinging from the blow -- and found an older man frowning at him. "I wasn't--" He took a step backwards, started to explain he hadn't been doing anything wrong -- then turned and ran away. 
He didn't stop running until he was back in his room, the door shut behind him. He paced, a bit, before going over to the bed. He grabbed Jesse and sat up near the headboard where he had full view of the door so he could see anybody coming. 
He suddenly felt eight years old again, hiding in his bedroom, praying his father didn't come after him. He hated the feeling, Hated it with a passion, wanted to go to Giles and be told it wasn't true, that nobody was going to hurt him anymore. 
But his hands were still stinging. It was so little compared to what he'd lived through before but.... 
They'd told him he'd be safe here. He'd been told no one was going to even show *up* if he couldn't handle it, and now here they were, dozens of them, everywhere. And Giles was no where to be found. 
As if the thought had summoned him, there was a knock on the door. "Xander?" 
He froze. "G-giles?" 
The door opened and Giles looked in. "Are you all right?" 
Xander glanced behind Giles, and saw no one else there. He relaxed, a little, and felt like whimpering. Instead he tried to get control of himself. 
"No, I can see you're not." Giles came all the way in and crossed the room to sit on the bed beside him. 
"I'm all right," he said -- declaration suitably marred by the faint whisper he'd said it with. He leaned against Giles, pressing himself into the embrace Giles had barely begun to offer. Giles' arms closed around him, his uncasted hand coming up to stroke Xander's hair. "I'm all right," he said again, just as quietly as the first time. He wriggled closer and told him, "I wasn't going to touch it." He had had no idea it was valuable, but he wouldn't have. Wouldn't have damaged it, in any event. 
"Touch what?" 
"The vase. I didn't touch it." He didn't know if the man, whoever he was, had gone off and told on him. 'Keep those children from wreaking havoc all over the house.' His uncle had said that, once, before they'd stopped inviting Xander's family over. 
"What vase?" Giles sounded, if anything, puzzled. 
Xander pressed his face into Giles' chest. Giles didn't know. So he tried to say it. "He hit--" His stomach churned. 
The arms holding him, tightened. "Who?" Giles asked in a low, dangerous voice. 
"I don't know. I don't think I met him. I might have, there were so many--" He was shaking, and felt Giles tighten his embrace. 
"It's all right. I won't let anyone hurt you again." 
'You keep saying that.' It was on his tongue, but he didn't say it. Knew it was unreasonable to think Giles would always protect him from everything -- despite the little voice that was hoping he would. "It didn't hurt," he said, a moment later, sounding if not feeling more genuinely calm. 
"Didn't it?" 
He considered it -- he couldn't even feel the stinging, any more. "No, it didn't." Startled him, yes. It hadn't really hurt. 
Giles pulled back long enough to give him one of those looks. 
"Scared me," he admitted. He looked at the backs of his hands. "But he didn't even leave a mark." 
"Not physically." 
He didn't reply to that. He stayed nestled in the safety of Giles' arms, regaining his lost equilibrium. Then, "I wasn't *gonna* touch it, anyway." 
"I know." 
The feeling of safety made him a little bolder. "Why'd he hit me? It wasn't his vase, was it?" 
"Shall we go find out?" 
Xander swallowed. He'd just as soon not leave the bedroom until everyone was gone...except Giles had that edge in his voice. A very tiny smile appeared on Xander's face. "Are you going to yell?" 
"Quite possibly," he admitted. 
Xander hesitated. "I don't want to get anyone into trouble." 
"*You're* not getting anyone in trouble." 
But if he didn't say anything, no one would get into trouble. Xander knew that. 
"I can find out myself, if you'd rather," Giles offered gently, the edge in his tone fading slightly. 
Xander pressed his face against Giles' chest, again. Voice nearly muffled by Giles' shirt, he said, "It was an older guy with a cane." He didn't know if he'd said it loud enough for Giles to make out what he'd said. Hoped he had. Hoped he hadn't. 
"Do you want to come down with me?" 
He smiled. Didn't say 'duh', but he crawled up off Giles, and to the end of the bed. Giles gave him an encouraging smile and stood, holding out a hand to him. 
Xander left Jesse on the bed, not needing that sort of attention. Then he took Giles' hand, and went with him, out of the room. 
Nobody saw them coming down the stairs, but as soon as they stepped into the room they were noticed and the conversation quieted, becoming quiet murmurs as all eyes seemed to be on them. Xander dropped back, letting go Giles' hand and looking down at the rug. Giles reached back and laid his hand on Xander's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. 
"Rupert?" Someone spoke, Xander didn't know who. The woman continued, "It's good you found him -- now we can all--" 
"I'd like everyone to go, now. Please." 
"Er, what?" There were surprised questions from several in the room. 
Xander felt his heartrate speeding up. He reached out and tucked his fingers into a fold of Giles' shirt, curled them around the loose cloth. The hand on his shoulder squeezed again. "I appreciate your concern, but all this...attention is a bit overwhelming for both of us right now." 
Xander smiled a bit, relieved at the way Giles had shared the blame for kicking everyone out. Relieved he was actually kicking everyone out. 
Some of them looked like they wanted to protest, but one look at Giles' face seemed to change their minds. With some confused mutterings, but no loud protest people began to file out. 
"Uncle Charles, if you could stay a moment please." 
The man who'd struck him, stopped. Xander looked up long enough to see a confused expression on the man's face, before he dropped his eyes back to the carpet. 
"Rupert?" Maggie's welcome voice appeared, and Xander glanced up again to see her ushering people out even as she came into the room. 
"Uncle Charles and I have something to discuss, Mum." Giles' voice had gone hard again, with a faint tremor of anger underlying it. 
"Oh?" Maggie sounded intrigued -- and hurried the rest of their guests out. Then she walked over to stand by her son. 
When it was just the four of them, Giles pinned Charles with an angry stare. "Did you hit Xander?" 
"What?" Maggie gasped, and she reached out for Xander's hand. 
Charles looked surprised. "I certainly did not!" 
"With your cane? To keep him from touching a vase?" 
"What?" Again startled, but less so. "That wasn't hitting him, Rupert. I merely warned him off -- it was the Bellerby vase in the north hallway. Worth--" 
"I don't care what it's worth," Giles cut him off, voice cold. "You. Don't. Touch. Xander." 
"But, I..." Charles sputtered. 
Maggie took a step forward. "You think I would care more about that old vase than Xander?" 
"It was just a tap on the hand!" Charles exclaimed, looking exasperated. 
Maggie stepped forward. "Have you completely lost your sense?" 
"Have you taken a look at what your 'tap' did?" Giles asked, his outrage plain on his face and in his tone. 
"I barely touched him -- I'm sure there's no mark. I've been disciplining my children for years -- believe me, I know how hard not to hit." 
Xander peeked up at Charles, watching with some interest. 
"Xander's father didn't," Maggie said quietly. 
Charles' mouth snapped shut. His gaze went from Giles to Maggie, then rested on Xander. Giles tugged Xander to his side gently, wrapping his arm around his waist protectively. "You do not have my permission to discipline Xander. And nobody, *nobody* strikes him." 
Xander stifled the urge to stick his tongue out and say 'neener'. 
Charles, however, was looking rather upset. "I didn't... I am sorry. I didn't mean anything of that sort. I--" He glanced over at Giles. "I didn't intend to hurt him. It was merely reflex -- I'm sorry." 
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to." 
"Xander?" Charles turned to face him. 
Xander stayed where he was - behind his dad and grandmum. Giles nodded at him encouragingly, but showed no signs of making him move. Xander settled for giving Charles an expression of listening. 
"I'm sorry, Xander," he began in a tone of sincerity Xander had never heard before. "I hadn't meant to hurt you." 
Everybody looked at Xander, waiting patiently. Xander just wanted to hear him say he was sorry, again. After a moment he realized that no one was going to do anything until he did. He nodded at Charles. 
"I think you should go now, Charles." Maggie said, moving forward to escort him out. 
Charles stepped back with a nod, heading for the door before Maggie could reach him. 
"Uncle Charles?" Xander said, before he could go. 
"Yes, lad?" 
"Thanks for apologizing." It felt weird - it felt kinda nice. 
Charles nodded, then walked out. Xander realized as he walked out, that they were alone in the house again. 
Finally. 
He reached his arms around Giles' waist and hugged him. Giles turned and pulled him into a full hug. "Better?" 
"Yeah."

*************  

Part Twelve  

Xander was curled up in a chair almost large enough for him to curl up in.
He had one foot propped up on a footstool, the other leg draped over the arm
of the chair. A book was in his lap, and he had the notebook balanced on
his knee. He'd been there for an hour, working on this, and he was
beginning to think Giles and his parents had conspired on this to keep him
quiet.

Admitting defeat, he looked up and asked, "What's a seven letter word for
"gross"? I think I need it in Greek. Possibly Crogein."

Giles looked up from his own reading, sitting in an identical chair nearby,
feet up on another footstool. "Gross as in large or gross as in..." He
paused, obviously searching for the proper description.

"Um..." Xander looked down at the crossword puzzle. Training for
Watchers, or so his grandda had blithely said when he'd handed Xander the
booklet. 'Ways to make Xander's brain hurt' was the real description, he
was thinking. He blinked at the clue, and read, "Gross as in 'delightful'?
OK, that would make it Crogein."

"It would indeed." Giles nodded towards a slim blue volume laying on the
table between them. "Crogein/English dictionary."

Xander looked at the book in astonishment. "You have *got* to be kidding
me." It wouldn't have been so bad had the book looked obviously like a
small print run, slap it together kind of book. But this was as well-bound
and gold-edged as the rest of the books in the room.

"A good deal of chaotic prophecies from the eleventh to fifteenth centuries
were written in Crogein for some reason. Enough that some enterprising
Watcher-archivist at the end of the last century put that together."

"Oh. And here I thought I'd found a new career." He picked up the book
and looked up the word 'gross'. "Think anyone needs a Sun Valley/Latin
dictionary?"

Giles smiled. "I know there have been times I've felt in need of some kind
of translation."

"Yeah, but is translating for you gonna be a full-time job?" Xander looked
up, grinning. Wondered why it sounded like such a good idea.

"Perhaps you could branch out."

"Translate for Buffy, too?" He realised the word 'gross' wasn't in the
dictionary, and tried looking up 'delightful'. Eight letters. He thumped
himself in the head with the slight book.

"Trying to learn through osmosis?" Giles asked him with a faint smile.

"Will that work?"

"Not that I've been able to see."

Xander considered trying the 'crawl over to Giles and look cute and hope he
takes pity on me' approach, but it *was* only a crossword puzzle. He should
save being cute for things like chocolate. He looked up as his grandda
walked into the room, and Xander grinned. "Do you know a seven letter
Crogein word for 'gross'?"

Everett looked at him. "Did you try the Crogein/English dictionary?"

He tried the cute pout. "Yes. Found 'rfuiane'."

"That's the verb form."

Xander opened the dictionary again. "If I have to teach myself
conjugation, just to finish this stupid puzzle...."

"That's the point," Giles put in with a smile.

"It is *not* the point. The point is to keep me out of the kitchen until
teatime." Xander frowned at the puzzle while he wrote in 'rfeian'.

"It seems to be working. On both points."

He stuck his tongue out at Giles. Xander caught Everett grinning, briefly,
before he turned his attention back to the puzzle.

"I had to do that puzzle when I was young as well," Giles reminisced,
glancing at his father.

"As I recall, you finished it in record time," Everett replied hesitantly.

A flicker of surprise crossed Giles face. "I spelled number twelve across
wrong."

Xander peeked through his eyelashes, watching his grandda without raising
his head. Everett was looking away, his expression one of discomfort. "The
idea was not to be perfect. It was to simply practice what you'd been
learning."

"That wasn't how it felt at the time," Giles said carefully.

"Yes, well...." Everett was very carefully looking at the bookcase across
the room. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I was more concerned with
seeing you succeed than letting you know when you had. I suppose I was
afraid that if I stopped pushing, you'd stop trying."

Xander held very still, not wanting to jump up and cheer until everyone had
a chance to say everything they ought.

"Did you really think so little of my determination?"

There was no reply, and Xander wondered if his grandda was going to give
up, and leave with things only half-said.

Finally, he said softly, "I remember how I felt, when I was told my life
wasn't my own." He still didn't look at his son, but his voice was less
hesitant. "I remembered thinking what I wouldn't have given to be rid of it
all, allowed to do whatever I liked. I'd...I'd wanted to be a writer, when
I was a lad."

"You did?" Giles asked in a surprised tone.

"Had notebooks filled with stories." Everett smiled, briefly, then his
face went dark. "My mother tried to tell me keeping my official journals
would be my writing."

"It's not the same thing, is it?" Giles asked softly, understanding.
Everett shook his head. "There's nothing that says you can't start writing
again now."

A faint smile appeared, but Everett shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm
woefully out of practice. I wasn't...very good at it, besides. Just a
young boy's fantasies." He seemed to realise what he was saying, and his
face smoothed over. "Ah, listen to an old man ramble. I came here to tell
you that Maggie wants to borrow Xander for the afternoon. Said something
about pie crust."

Giles smiled and glanced over at Xander. "I'm sure he'd be amenable."

Xander thought it over for a few seconds. "Pie crust? Hm...." He set the
books aside and jumped up. Took three steps towards the door, then stopped
and turned back. "Um, how is twelve across spelled?" He looked at the book
of crossword puzzles still in his hand.

Giles and his father exchanged looks. "That would be telling."

Xander gave them both dirty looks, before stomping off towards the kitchen.
Maybe Maggie would check it over for him, and at least let him know if he'd
gotten it right.

************

It was a little bizarre to be sitting on the left side of the car. More
bizarre to be driving on the wrong side of the street. Not that he was
driving -- he'd asked, though he hadn't really wanted to actually do it.
London traffic? Not in this lifetime, even with a native guide and an A to
Z.

"You're sure I get to harass them?" he asked, dubiously.

Giles glanced over at him and smiled before turning his eyes back to the
road. "I'm sure. I'm quite looking forward to it actually."

"I don't want to get you into trouble," Xander continued. Granted, Giles
probably wasn't talking about smoke-bombs in the toilets kind of harassment.
Not that *he* had ever been the one to do those things. He'd only carried
the stuff for Willow.

"You won't. Well, no more than I get myself into."

"So, then, it's OK I brought the squeaky Gromits?" He'd discovered that
placing a toy in the right spot behind a door was perfect for making said
toy squeak when the door was opened. And when you first replaced the
squeaker with something else....

That got him another glance though Giles did nod.

Then again, Giles hadn't found the Gromit he'd left in the library. Maggie
had found it, then laughed as hard as Xander, once she'd recovered being
startled. She'd taken him to buy a few more, so they could experiment on
the best squeaker-replacements.

He tried for an innocent grin, just in case. What he really wanted to do
was get home, so he could try them out at school.

"I will, of course, disavow all knowledge of such things," Giles commented.

"Even when we get home?" he asked eagerly, clamping his mouth shut too
late.

"That would depend greatly on the situation."

"Oh." Xander considered how Snyder would feel about Gromits that sounded
like ghosts and kerluc demons, scattered about the school. Detention for
life was a fair bet.

On the other hand, hiding them at Spike's place....

"Maybe I should just plead the fifth and not reveal my Master Plan."

"Master Plans tend to be best kept secret."

Xander snorted. "You say that like you don't always know what I'm up to,
anyhow."

Giles just smiled mysteriously.

Xander folded his arms. "All right, tell me what I'm planning to do with
the Aero chocolate eggs."

"You're taking them home for your friends. Not including the two you sat
aside for yourself."

Xander kept his jaw from dropping by narrowing his eyes at Giles. "How do
you do that? And I set three aside, only I ate one already."

"Ah. I stand corrected."

Xander waited. Then, "You didn't answer my question."

"No, I didn't, did I?" Giles smiled again.

"You're gonna just sit there and act mysterious and not tell me, just like
you did when I wanted to know if I had 31 down in the right language." He
hadn't managed to finish the puzzle, yet, but couldn't figure out which clue
he had wrong.

After a moment, Giles said softly, "It's in Sumerian."

"I have to know *Sumerian*?" Xander whirled on him in disbelief.
"Sumerian? I am *not* learning Sumerian. No more dead languages. No more
languages that only dead people speak. Not even if it's the only way to
order good chocolate through the mail." Then he dug the puzzle out from
under the car seat and looked at 31 down.

Giles pulled the car into a parking spot and turned to face him. "Do you
really feel that way?"

"I reserve the right to wait until I actually become fluent in two
languages, before starting a new one," Xander replied, erasing what he'd
written and trying to remember what the Sumerian word for 'ducks' was and if
it was spelled with three 'm's or two.

"Two m's," Giles told him absently.

"Don't tell me!" he protested without thinking. Then he looked over. "Um,
I mean, 'school hard, studying bad'?"

His guardian smiled faintly. "I think you just blew your slacker cover."

Muttering, "I think I blew it the day I found out about demonic chemistry,"
Xander filled in the clue. He realised he could fill in another, and
quickly did so. He had two more clues filled in before he looked up to see
Giles smiling at him.

"I *was* wondering if I perhaps was pushing you too hard, but..."

Xander closed the book and got out of the car, tossing the book in the
seat. "I like it that you push. It...makes me think you care -- I mean, I
know you do. I just--"

"Want a break sometimes."

But Xander shook his head. "Want a *warning* sometimes. I don't care if I
end up learning Sumerian. I'd just like a list, or something. So I know
what to expect."

"A warning."

He shifted from one foot to the other, closing the car door and walking
around to where Giles was waiting. "I don't like surprises, sometimes."
That was why Willow had told him about his birthday party 'surprise'.
Accidentally on purpose.

Giles nodded slowly. "No surprises. We can sit down when we get home and
discuss what you'd like to learn."

"I'd like learn what I'm supposed to do with the map island." Willow was
already past that point, checking maps and not telling him what he was
supposed to be looking for. He had no idea how she was doing it, since he
was pretty sure she wasn't sneaking over and playing on his computer while
he was asleep. Somewhat sure.

"Map island?" Giles looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"Riven. Willow gave it to me when we finished Myst."

"Ah. Computer game."

"One day they're going to take over the world." Xander fell in beside
Giles as they headed towards the rather non-descript building.

"The horror."

"I could get Othello downloaded for you, if you like. Start you off easy."

With a wary glance, Giles said, "You're trying to corrupt me."

"I think its only fair." An idea occurred, and Xander was hard pressed not
to grin so widely that he'd frighten Giles off. "If I have to learn
Sumerian, you should have to learn to play a computer game. Or use Excel or
something."

"Can't get you to have pity on a poor concussed watcher?"

"You won't be concussed forever." He gave Giles a dirty look. "And no
fair re-injuring yourself just as you recover, to avoid it."

Giles opened his mouth and then closed it again without saying anything.
Xander turned to look at the building they'd come to visit. Big,
featureless -- nothing at all like the Council for Fighting Evil ought to
look. It looked like just another building, perhaps government offices.
Giles caught what he was looking at. "Bit of a letdown isn't it?"

"Shouldn't there at least be gargoyles?"

"They flew away."

Xander grinned. "The funny part is, I believe it. Even though you either
hope I'll believe you so you can say you're kidding, or that I'll think
you're kidding so you can say it's true."

"That would about cover it."

He looked back up at the building, then shook his head. "Gargoyles
wouldn't help."

"Probably not."

Xander took another step towards the building when he stopped and returned
to the car for his backpack.

Giles waited for him with an indulgent smile. "Ready?"

"Yup." He slung the bag over his shoulder. He did have two Gromits in it,
ready and waiting. And somehow he knew, if he asked, Giles would tell him
where would be the best spots to leave them.

Part Thirteen  

The interior of the Council building was much more satisfying, on a purely
aesthetic level. The floors were covered with thick, dark carpets and the
walls hung with pieces of art from all centuries, covering all range of
creature and situation. Xander suspected they were all realistic, probably
even educational.

He'd been introduced to only a few people; there weren't many folks roaming
the hallways. Fortunately, two of them had been Council members whom Giles
had indicated could be harassed. Just in case Xander was making a list.

Which he was.

So far most of the people he'd been introduced to had seemed to dismiss him
just as quickly as they'd notice him. It seemed to irritate Giles a little
but only someone who knew him as well as Xander did would notice. Xander
didn't mind as much. It was better to be dismissed than have too much
attention -- especially if he wanted not to be at the top of anyone's list
of culprits when they discovered the Keloj ash he had a small bag of, and
planned to sprinkle on the office chair of some really annoying person.

Possibly the old geezer who had just asked, before Giles could even finish
saying hello, whether he was ever going to get that Slayer of his into
shape. Giles had answered respectfully enough, but his irritation was
evident in his posture.

Yeah, definitely a candidate. As soon as the guy was gone, Xander looked
over. "Do you wanna do it?"

"You are a bad influence on me."

He reached into his backpack and dug out the small plastic baggie of ash.

"I am not seeing this," Giles vowed.

"Not seeing this? I thought you were the one not *doing* it?" Xander
shrugged. "Tell me where his office is, and I'll not do it."

For a moment he thought Giles wasn't going to tell him, but his guardian
finally shook his head with a sigh. "The last door on the right."

"Cool! Er, I'm gonna go wander along and see what's down here, OK?"
Xander gestured vaguely towards the hallway Giles had just indicated.

"Try not to get cau- into trouble."

"Who, me?" Xander gave Giles his very best
even-Willow-falls-for-this-one-sometimes expression of innocence.

"That's what I thought."

"When have I ever gotten into tro-- uh. I'm gonna be right back." He
quickly turned and headed down the hallway.

Giles' soft laughter followed him.

At least he was laughing about it, Xander reflected. He hurried to the
door, listening very carefully for signs of passers-by. At the door itself
he paused, listening intently and checking his slayerette-trained instincts
for signs of occupation. He slipped the door open and stepped inside. A
quick check around and he was headed over to the chair. Without touching
the chair or the desk, or anything on them, Xander opened the bag of ash and
sprinkled the clearish-white stuff everywhere.

A few minutes' exposure to air and it would turn even clearer. A few
minutes' exposure to a pair of trousers, and suddenly said trousers would
have large gaping holes in them were the body heat had activated the ash's
more...acidic properties.

Demonic chemistry was a godsend for the practical joker. It made Xander
wish he'd discovered it sooner. It also made him wonder why Giles had been
so pleased to realize he was interested in it. Also why Giles had bought
him the third chem set, which was subtitled "101 Ways To Burn Things You Can
Replace".

Xander wadded the bag up and whispered a short spell he'd picked up from
Willow. The plastic began melting quickly, then vanished entirely. Willow
used it for recycling otherwise-unrecyclable plastic. With a satisfied
grin, Xander headed back to the door. Listening again for passers-by,
Xander slipped out, shut the door, then headed back down the hallway.

Giles was standing where he had left him, deep in conversation with another
old fogey of some sort. Giles seemed to be actually enjoying -- or
favorably tolerating -- the conversation, so Xander didn't interrupt it. He
stopped before he reached them, looking first at one of the painting on the
wall -- this one depicting a small herd of vampires being vanquished by the
sunrise. It wasn't a very interesting painting, but it was more fun than
being polite to yet another council member. Suddenly he realized he could
hear other people talking.

"-tell you that fire wouldn't work against Gurulifeger demons. They'd just
grin at you and proceed to bite your head off."

Xander took a step towards the doorway through which the voices were
coming; as he got closer, he saw there was a short hall leading off from the
main corridor. To one side in a sort of study-alcove, were three guys --
baby Watchers, Xander realized. One of them sneered at another, a slight,
dark haired man wearing glasses. "And what makes you such an expert on
Gurulifeger, Wesley? Faced many of them, have you?"

Xander took another step closer, still unnoticed by the three. Wesley was
looking offended, but answered in a stilted tone, "If you had read the
Draviticae--"

The third man laughed. "The Draviticae! Wesley, no one believes that pile
of rubbish!"

"If it was rubbish it wouldn't be in the inner library. It happens to be a
most reliable source on the entire Gorian class of demons." Wesley was
apparently trying to control a fierce frown.

"Reliable!" The first man laughed. "Tell you what, Wesley, next time you
come across a Gurulifeger demon, you just tell it you won't be killing it.
Randolph and I will have our incineration spells ready."

Xander said calmly, "He's right. Fire won't kill them."

Three sets of eyes turned to stare at him. "And you would be...?" the first
man asked.

"Someone who's killed a Gurulifeger demon with a hacksaw."

Wesley looked thoughtful. "Yes, that would work."

Randolph scoffed. "You can kill a lot of things with a hacksaw. Fire
would be much easier, and safer. Distance weapon, you realize," he finished
in a patronizing tone.

Xander just looked at him. "We tried fire. The demons laughed at us and
tried to bite Willow's head off."

Wesley started to grin, then looked alarmed. "Goodness! Was she all
right?" Then his expression grew thoughtful. "Willow? I don't recognize
that name. Is she a member of the Left Hand?"

Xander shook his head. "She's a Scooby," he answered with a grin.

"A Scooby." Wesley frowned. "I don't believe I know that division."

"It's an elite task force, charged with assisting and supporting the
activities of the current Slayer/Watcher team." Xander rattled the phrases
off easily, as if he wasn't making things up on the spot. He noticed the
dubious frown of the other two, and just gave them an impassive stare.

Randolph's friend said, "I don't believe you. You barely look old enough
to have taken your A levels. You couldn't possibly have seen a Gurulifeger
demon, much less *killed* one."

Wesley, however, was studying Xander closely. "You're American."

"Yep. And yes, I have killed a Gurulifeger demon. It was about to eat one
of my friends, and Buffy was busy with the other two."

Wesley's expression become one of realization. "You're here with the
Slayer's Watcher, what's your name- Alexander?"

"Xander, yeah."

He watched with some amusement as the three reacted. Wesley seemed
intrigued -- Xander recognized the 'can I ask you a thousand questions'
look. Randolph looked reluctantly impressed. The third was sneering in a
whole new manner. Holding out his hand, Wesley introduced himself. "Wesley
Wyndham-Pryce."

Xander shook it. "Hey. Xander Harris Giles." He was in no way used to
saying that -- but he managed not to grin like a moron as he did so.

"Randolph Peterson," the second man said, holding out a hand.

"Glenn O'Neil," the third said, keeping his arms crossed in front of him.

Xander gave him the sort of smile he usually gave vamps about to be dusted.
"Pleasure is all yours." He heard Wesley stifle a cough and glanced over in
time to see him hiding a grin. Glenn scowled even deeper then, gathering
Randolph with his eyes, turned and left.

Xander watched them go, then turned to Wesley. "Actually, if you use fire
on a Gurulifeger demon, they don't grin. Haven't really got the mouth for
it."

"I've seen pictures. They do seem to have entirely too many teeth for such
an expression."

"All the better for biting your head off with." He cast a glance down the
hall where the two Watcher-wannabes had vanished. "What's this Draviticae?"

Wesley smiled. "One of the rarer texts on demonology. They have a copy here
in the library."

Giles had promised they'd spend a day in the library -- tomorrow. Xander
had to struggle to not say 'can we go see it?' now. Besides, he was a
little intrigued about this Wesley guy. He'd never met a Watcher besides
Giles who seemed...approachable.

Wesley was continuing, "One of many. I'll tell you, I could happily live in
that room for several months at least."

Slowly, Xander smiled. "My dad promised to show me the library tomorrow --
said something about waking up at 5am, and bringing a sack lunch."

Wesley grinned back. "You might think about bringing supper too."

"Actually, I think he mentioned supper...and sleeping bags."

"Sounds like a man after my own heart."

"You wanna join us?" Xander asked, half-joking, half-serious. It'd be fun
to get to know someone closer his own age who also understood the Watcher
thing. Wesley didn't seem too stuffy....

"Me? Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude..."

"Why not? We could use a native Guide; Gi-- dad hasn't been here for a few
years. I bet they have all sorts of new acquisitions he'd need pointed
out." He shrugged, not sure exactly why he was trying to talk Wesley into
it. Maybe it was just that he was the first person he'd met in the Council
building that he didn't mind spending more than a few minutes with.

Certainly the others were all bores. But even though he could see the same
hints of stuffy over-educated Watcherness in Wesley, there was something
else. Something that made Xander feel...unthreatened.

"Well, if you're sure Mr. Giles wouldn't mind..."

"Of course I won't mind." Giles walked up, and Xander stifled a groan at
the look of 'that's my boy' on Giles' face. It was still embarrassing.

Wesley straightened almost to attention when Giles came in.

Giles held out a hand and gave him a gentle smile. "Rupert Giles."

"Of course you are." Wesley had a rather idiotic grin on his face. "The
Slayer's Watcher."

Giles' smile turned modest, half-shaking his head as if that needn't mean
as much as it did. Xander decided he was going to like Wesley a great deal.
Especially when Wesley suggested they avoid the west wing of the building,
as there was a committee session in progress -- which meant a high
concentration of Junior Council Members hanging about.

*******************

Three days later, Xander juggled the bags he was carrying as his grandmum
set hers down to open the door. They had devised a solution to allow those
relatives who wanted to visit Rupert, the chance to do so -- without Xander
being around. Yesterday Everett had taken Xander on a tour of London --
showing him the best tourist stuff like the changing of the guard. Xander
had loved it -- discovering a shared enthusiasm with his grandfather for
games of strategy. They'd spent the entire night over an Othello board.

Today it had been Maggie, taking him to shops and booksellers. "I'll go
get the rest," Maggie said, heading back to the door.

"They're gonna think we bought out the city," Xander said, looking at the
bags. "DHL is gonna love us, though, when we ship this all home."

"Just making up on seventeen years of spoiling," she assured him with a
wink and a grin.

Xander grinned. Hefting one of the bags -- books -- he said, "I think this
probably makes a huge dent in the spoiling owed. Luckily, there's still
Christmas."

"Still Christmas for -- good Lord." Giles walked into the foyer and looked
down at the array of bags. "Mum, you *do* know they have stores in
California? They sell... what *is* this?" He peered into one of the bags.

Maggie slapped his hand and took it away. "No peeking."

"What?" he straightened up, startled, then started to smile. "Is one of
them for me?"

Xander snorted. "Like we'd tell you if it was." He took pity on his
guardian's curiosity, though, and handed over one of the smaller bags he was
carrying. "You can look at these, though."

"You're sure," Giles asked taking the bag, but not looking in.

"Well, you have to *share*," Xander added. He'd barely had a chance to
read more than a third of any of them, at the bookstore.

Maggie gave them both an amused smile as she took some of the bags. "I'll
have these boxed up to ship home, those other two you can take with you."

"Thanks, Mum," Giles said absently, as he began to go through the books
Xander had bought.

Xander waited a moment before asking in a casual tone, "Can I borrow your
credit card? We wanna go back out tomorrow."

"You do know we only have so much room at the apartment."

Xander opened his mouth to retort, when he realized -- it was a good point.
He looked down at the bags still at his feet. "I don't even have
bookshelves for these, do I?"

Giles shook his head. "And you've already taken over half of mine."

If he hadn't already seen the way the library here was crammed, he'd have
suggested leaving some here. He suddenly saw just how much *stuff* he'd
bought -- today alone. If he counted all the things he'd been buying since
they'd arrived in England.... "I guess I can take some back."

"I didn't say that," his guardian interrupted.

Xander hadn't even thought about it -- being able to buy, or have bought
for him, anything he wanted -- he hadn't even thought about whether he
really had room or need for it, at home. "A couple of those I was gonna
lend to Willow, anyway."

"For the moment, if we don't have enough room, I can always move some to my
office at the school."

"You're already kinda crowded there, too," Xander pointed out. "I guess I
didn't realize how much stuff I was getting." He shrugged an apology.

Giles reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. "If all else fails,
we'll just have to get a bigger place."

Xander laughed, shaking off the sense of guilt with relief -- he didn't
*want* to give any of it back. "Where? We already have the biggest
floorplan in the complex." But he leaned over, gave Giles a one-armed
hug -- and stole one of the books out of Giles' hands.

"That's an interesting one."

"Have you read it?" Xander started flipping through the pages to the spell
which had first caught his eye.

"No, but I took a glance at the index."

"Look at this!" He found the spell, and held the book open. "There are
spells in here about Slayers." Only three that he'd found mentioned The
Slayer specifically, but that was three more than he'd ever seen before.
Giles looked closer, reaching out to take the book back. "I'm not sure what
it means, but it looks like a cool spell. Slayer combo. I think you can
take other people, and make a Slayer out of them. Or give the Slayer
special powers...." He trailed off as he watched Giles reading.

"Yes," Giles said distractedly.

"And one where you can turn a Watcher into a jerboa," he added, wondering
if Giles were even still hearing him. If he knew what the little
rodent-creature's name even was.

"Mm-hm."

"Grandmum says she has everything I'd need, to try it out." He watched as
Giles continued staring at the page in front of him, and tried not to grin
in case he suddenly looked up.

"Of course, if you'd like," Giles replied absently.

Xander knew that if he said anything more, he'd probably get Giles' full
attention. So he nodded, picked up his bags, and said to himself, "Good
thing I stole that business card out of Murgenson's office. I think I can
use it as a totem...."

There was a long pause, then Giles was looking up at him. "What?"

He looked back, innocent expression plastered on his face. "What?"

"I didn't just hear what I thought I heard, did I?"

Xander shook his head. Managed to look so serious that Giles gave him a
suspicious look and flipped through the index, again.

Then he looked up and gave Xander his best fatherly forbidding stare. "No
transmutation spells."

"But--!"

Giles just continued to look at him.

Xander frowned. "It isn't a transmutation spell! Sort of," he protested.

Still Giles continued to stare.

"It's more of a...um...OK, it's a transmutation spell. But it doesn't have
to be a jerboa. I could turn him into a capybara." He gave Giles his
pleading-eyes.

"No rodents."

"A squirrel? Are they rodents and please god don't tell me to look it up."

"It is a rodent and no, no squirrels."

"Mongoose?"

Giles began to smile. "No."

"What if I just made him *think* he was a mongoose?" Xander had no idea if
there was such a spell in the book, but if he got a 'yes,' it would be worth
searching all the books to find one.

"He's bad enough as a human."

Xander pouted. "You never let me have any fun."

That caused Giles to give him a look of disbelief.

"Unless you wanna volunteer?" Xander asked in a hopeful tone.

"For what?" Giles asked suspiciously.

"The spell, duh! I promise I'd turn you right back."

Giles stared at him for a moment, then turned and walked off, muttering in
Aramaic.

Xander waited until he was almost out of the foyer, then called after him,
"Was that a yes or a no?"

"No!"

"You don't love me anymore," he said, not quite shouting loud enough to be
heard.

Or maybe he had because Giles stopped, turned around and came back. "We do
not turn the ones we love into rodents."

"Mongeese are rodents?"

Another stare and Giles was walking away again with more muttering.

Xander waited til he was at the threshold again. Then, "I *knew* you
didn't love me."

"No transmutations!" Giles called back.

Part Fourteen  

Xander got his stuff put away upstairs -- trying to keep the guilty impulse
squashed. Finally he reasoned that if, as Giles kept insisting, he *wasn't*
the grown-up, and therefor wasn't the one responsible -- if he shouldn't be
buying all this stuff, someone would have said something. Not quite earth
logic, as he suspected Buffy would say...but enough of an excuse to leave
the bags and head back down in search of his grandmum to see if it was time
to start teasing Giles.

They'd called Percy while they were taking a break for lunch, and had made
all the arrangements for tomorrow. Xander and Maggie had debated just how
long they could go before letting Giles in on their surprise. The hardest
part was keeping him from making other plans. Luckily, Xander had finally
found that he could keep Giles from making any plans simply because most of
his plans involved Xander. It had become a small challenge to his
guardian-manipulating ability.

Of course, there was always the back-up plan. Tell Giles.

Xander hurried downstairs, and found his grandmum talking with her son in
the kitchen. Xander skidded into the room -- he'd discovered early on that
the floor was slippery enough for sock-foot skating. He crashed into Giles,
who caught him with an amused look. "Sudden cookie attack?" his guardian
asked.

Xander blinked. "There are cookies?"

Giles nodded to the plate Maggie was filling with all kinds of good things.
Tea time, Xander remembered. He went over towards the plate, slipping a bit
unintentionally in his haste. He grabbed for a chocolate thing he hadn't
seen before, then remembered why he'd come down. "Are we doing anything
tomorrow?" he asked.

He watched Giles visibly thinking about it. "I don't think we've agreed on
plans yet. Have you decided what you want to do?"

"Is anyone coming by?" Xander asked, a touch of doubt in his voice. He
still wasn't really enthused about relatives visiting, but that wasn't why
he cared, this time.

"Not that I know of." Giles looked questioningly at his mother.

"I haven't heard a thing," she said with a tone of innocence Xander only
knew was exaggerated because he knew she'd asked Percy to let everyone know
they wouldn't be at home.

Giles turned back to Xander. "What is it you want to do?"

Xander opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. Then he started to smile.
"Can we visit Grubenhager's again?" He named a supply shop that specialized
in demonic academia which Giles had shown him a few days before.

"Is there anything you haven't bought from there already?"

Xander looked surprised. "I can't just browse through everything I've seen
twice before?"

"If that's what you really want to do..."

He gave Giles a tiny bit of a pleading look. Then he said, "Drugin said
they were getting a shipment today."

Giles sighed. "I never said we couldn't."

Xander pushed the wattage up on his pleading look, anyway, just for
practise. "But you had that look in your eyes that said 'god help me, I've
created someone who creates monsters.' And you wanted to stay home and be
boring and read more of that boring Sotheby's thing."

"I think you're reading far too much into my look." Giles managed to look
affronted, despite the amusement in his tone.

Xander mock-glared. "You're going to deny you want to stay home and read
Sotheby's Catalog of Old, Over-priced Stuff?"

"It isn't boring," Giles protested. "And what does it matter whether I
read it or not, you who've been reading about microbiology, the worst sort
of boring when it comes to biology. It isn't even *supernatural*, it's
plain ordinary--" He stopped, suddenly, then demanded, "What makes you
think I'd be looking at Sotheby's, at any rate?"

"Because you've been carrying the book to bed?" Xander saw Maggie grinning
at them, and winked.

"It is hardly the first book I've taken to bed." Giles was trying for
wounded dignity, but not quite succeeding. He was doing a better job of
pretending to ignore his mother's amusement.

"I've never seen you take a catalog to bed before," Xander pointed out.

"Then we should work on your powers of observation."

"Oh, I've seen you take *books* to bed. But a catalog? Isn't that a
little...weird?" He managed to look all prim and proper -- or at least more
innocent.

"Not that you've ever gone to bed with a book -- or catalog, and don't deny
you hadn't the Video Gamer under your pillow every night for two weeks."

Xander just looked shocked. "I'm a kid! I'm supposed to do things like
that! That's why you bought me a flashlight, so I wouldn't have to set the
sheets on fire trying that spell Willow showed me."

"I didn't hear you say that last part," Giles said primly.

"You didn't know? I almost got the water--" He shut himself up, realising
that maybe Giles really *didn't* to know why Xander had suddenly spent his
allowance on several sets of sheets a couple months ago. Not that Spike
hadn't been responsible for one set, but that was even more one of the
things Giles didn't need to know.

"Please remember that if I know about something, I have to react to it,"
Giles said calmly, flicking a glance towards his mother, who was stifling
laughter.

"I know nothing about the missing chocolate bourbon biscuits."

Giles blinked. "They're missing?"

Xander blinked. "What's missing?"

Giles opened his mouth to answer then closed it with a shake of his head.

"So, it's OK?" Xander asked.

"What's okay?"

"Grubenhager's."

"Yes. It's okay." Giles' expression was a mixture of exasperation and
affection.

"Um..." He glanced over at his grandmum, who was watching them silently,
her eyes alight and her giggles almost under control.

"Is there something else?" Giles asked with faked wariness.

"Could I maybe borrowsomemoney?" he said quickly. Not because he'd need
it -- since they *weren't* going to Grubenhager's tomorrow. Rather, he had
the urge to see just how far he could push before Giles either handed over
his wallet, or went and hid in the library for the rest of their visit.

Giles gave a sigh that was obviously meant to be exaggerated and reached
for his wallet.

"Not *now*. At the sho-- um, now's fine."

"How much?"

He thought it over, seriously. He actually still had enough to last him
the rest of the next week, unless he went back to the corner shop for more
chocolate. And Giles was still being entirely too accommodating. "Forty?"

The money was handed over with no further comment. Xander took it, folded
the bills and pocketed them. Wondered if he should have asked for sixty.

"Will that be enough?"

He pretended to think it over. He ignored his conscience and said
reluctantly, "I *guess*."

Again he got the look with the raised eyebrow.

"I don't need that Turkish amplifier," he admitted, reluctantly.

The look intensified. "Actually, you probably don't."

Xander looked put-upon, but inwardly he relaxed. Nice to know Giles wasn't
so far gone he was going to let him buy *anything* he wanted. Or said he
wanted. "The mini?" he asked, though, just to be sure. It *was* a cool
toy.

"Entirely overpriced and all flash, no substance."

"Digital camera?"

Giles frowned. "Why do you need a digital camera?"

"Because...um..." He thought fast. "So I can talk to grandmum, and send
her pictures. You know how she likes pictures." It suddenly occurred to
him that he might have just talked Giles into getting him a digital camera
when all he'd wanted was.... Well, he wasn't sure. Hadn't intended to ask
for a camera, though.

But talk about cool toys....

"Well, we'll just have to get you one," Maggie spoke up when Giles didn't
answer.

"And one for you, too," Xander pointed out. No point if they couldn't
*trade* pictures. He caught Giles looking amused -- then rolling his eyes
when he saw Xander and Maggie look at him. Xander pointed out, "Which means
you can still get me a GPS tracker."

"I do hate to sound like I'm repeating myself, but why do you need a GPS
tracker?" Giles asked.

"You shoot a bug into some creepy crawlie -- or creepy running-fast thing,
and we can track it down. Or I can find myself if I go hiking in the Andes.
I could use it to find my way to class next year - they added two prefabs."
He saw Giles' dubious look, then tried, "Underwater camera?"

"No."

"Palm pilot?" He tried, not knowing exactly what it was, but knowing that
Willow had waxed eloquent over one for two weeks - and might still be doing
so in their absence.

His guardian hesitated. "Maybe for Christmas."

Xander grinned. Maggie shook her head and asked if Xander wanted to help
her with tea. He nodded, but before he followed her out, he turned back and
asked Giles, "What's a palm pilot?"

There was a moment of surprised silence, then Giles said quickly, "If you
don't know what it is, you won't miss not having it."

"I will so. I'll notice not getting something I don't know what is, and
know you didn't get me one."

Giles said something under his breath. It sounded like a prayer.

But Xander took another step after his grandmum, not pushing the issue. He
didn't care about a palm pilot, except maybe about getting one for Willow.
But it was nice to know Giles hadn't lost his head about spoiling him.
Completely.

Besides, if they were going to be spoiling Giles, he needed to be sure
things were kept properly balanced.


**************


"So, will you boys be home for dinner?" Maggie asked, her smile widening
as she met Xander's gaze. They were seated around the table just finishing
up breakfast, and Xander was having great difficulty sitting still.

"If we're not, you better send out a search party," Giles joked, "because
it will mean we've got lost in the store."

"Not to worry, Maggie," Everett interrupted smoothly -- as if Xander hadn't
coached him carefully. "If I'm dropping them off, I'll not be waiting
around for hours when I've gone to pick them up, afterwards."

Giles gave his father a startled look. "You don't need-"

"I've business at The Crutein's, just down the street. I won't be long,
but you two will have plenty of time to get your browsing done."

Xander glanced over at Giles and added, "And the three of us can stop by
Tandie's cart for lunch?"

"I think that can be arranged." Giles turned back to his father. "Thank
you, then."

Everett nodded, his expression quite impassive. Xander grinned, and looked
around. "Are we ready to go yet?"

"If you're finished decimating breakfast."

"Um." Xander checked out the table -- most of the plates were empty. He
spied one last muffin, and grabbed it. "OK, I'm finished." Giles gave him a
look but didn't say anything. Xander held the muffin out to him, raising an
eyebrow. When Giles just shook his head, Xander asked, "Well, why'd you say
anything, then?"

"I didn't."

"Did."

Giles opened his mouth to reply and then shut it with a shake of his head
and a sigh.

"Good choice," Maggie said, patting his hand. "Though you'll recall you've
brought this on yourself. All those times I warned you -- someday you'd
have a child to do to you as much as you did to us.""

"Thank you, mother, I certainly needed to be reminded of that."

"What'd he do?" Xander asked with interest, brushing Giles off as he tried
to point out they should be on their way.

Standing, Giles quickly asked, "Shouldn't we be going?"

Xander glanced at his watch. "We can wait five minutes, can't we?" He
glanced towards Everett for confirmation.

Giles gave his father a look. Everett consulted his own watch. "Yes, I
think we can spare a few minutes for your grandmum to embarrass Rupert."

"How generous," Giles sighed.

Maggie took pity on him, and just said, "I think we've managed to torment
you enough for one breakfast. Perhaps you three should be going."

"Yes, we wouldn't want for Grubenhager's to sell out of anything before we
get there." Giles' slight sarcasm was belied by the eagerness with which he
took a step towards the doorway.

"If they do, we can go back on Monday," Xander pointed out. Then he grinned
innocently when Giles gave him another Look.

"You're feeling chipper this morning," Giles accused.

"Too much chocolate," Xander replied, finishing off the muffin and heading
over towards the door where Everett was waiting. He looked at Giles.
"Aren't you coming?"

Giles followed, muttering under his breath.

Xander caught a wink from his grandda, and decided to give Giles as much
grief as possible before they arrived. If Giles was *ever* going to forgive
and forget, it was going to be today.


Besides being fun, it had the added effect of keeping Giles from noticing
right away that they weren't heading towards Grubenhager's. But when Everett
turned away from the city even distracted Giles noticed. "Have they moved
the store in the last week?"

"Hmm?" Was all he got from Everett. Xander just gave him a 'lost tourist,
why are you asking me' shrug.

"We're going in the opposite direction," Giles pointed out, as if no one
else had noticed.

"Are you sure?" Xander gazed out the window, fighting to hide his grin.
"Are we lost?"

Everett cleared his throat. "We're not lost." But Xander heard the
rest -- 'and *you* tell him why.'

"If this is a shortcut, Dad, it's going to be the longest shortcut in
history," Giles said dryly.

"It isn't a shortcut," Everett said. He looked in the rearview mirror,
catching Xander's eye. Xander figured they were probably close enough, and
scooted forward to lean over the front seat. Besides, soon it would be
obvious where they were going.

"Guess what," he said. Giles looked at him, eyebrow raised. "We're not
going to Grubenhager's."

"I had gathered that."

"Wanna know where we're going?"

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Aw, you'll love it! Really. I swear. I think." He paused. "If you
don't love it, we can go to Grubenhager's."

"That's comforting." Giles looked at him for a moment then continued, "So
where are we going?"

"Airport." Xander grinned, watching closely for Giles' reaction.

"Airport," Giles repeated slowly, clearly not getting the implication right
away.

"A little airport. Mostly they have private hangers," Xander expanded.

He could see the exact moment when Giles figured it out. "Where Uncle
Percy-"

"Keeps his twin engine," finished Everett. He glanced over at his son.
"Xander thought you might try leaving without accepting Percy's offer." He
sounded a bit awkward, as if embarrassed by his participation.

"I hadn't really thought about it," Giles admitted seeming a bit stunned.

"Percy said you'd told him you didn't want to try it while your head still
hurt. But you've been saying for the last three days you felt fine."
Xander paused. "If you really don't think you're up to it, we can do it
next time. You can do it next time -- I'm still going up!"

"No, that's all right. I feel quite well," Giles said faintly.

"Yes, you sound it," Everett observed in a dry voice.

"Well, it is a bit of a surprise," he countered.

Xander wrapped an arm around Giles' neck, giving him a light squeeze.
Giles hugged him back. "I didn't know you wanted to go flying so badly."

"Me?" Xander repeated, surprised. Then he saw the look in Giles' eyes.
Tease him back, would he? "Other than being afraid of heights, yeah, I
wanna go flying," he said breezily.

"For someone afraid of heights you spent a remarkable amount of time with
you face plastered to the window on the flight over from America," Giles
observed with one raised eyebrow.

"We never flew upside-down, either. Percy says he'll do a roll if we ask."
He realized that sounding that excited about it disproved his claim he was
afraid of heights. He tried to think of something else, while wondering if
he was ever going to *really* win a battle of wits with Giles.

"Were you intending on asking?"

He considered for a second just how 'better' Giles was probably feeling.
Then he grinned, cutely.

"Perhaps I'll have to ask Percy to teach me that move," Giles mused.

Xander bounced in his seat.

Part Fifteen

He looked over the bags. Everything he couldn't fit in them would be boxed
for shipping, but there was a lot of stuff he wanted with him, to show Buffy
and Willow and Oz as soon as they got home. There was also the small bag of
stuff he was taking home for Spike -- not that he'd said as much. The rest
of it.... "Can I just ship all my clothes home?"

Giles smiled from where he stood by the door. "What were you planning on
wearing in the meantime?"

"I didn't mean *all* my clothes." There were a couple things in particular
he wanted to have with him. Otherwise, how much clothing did he need to
take a plane ride home?

"Just most of them," Giles said, knowingly.

"I don't have room for my other stuff." Xander gave Giles a look. "I bet
*you're* already all packed, again." He sighed.

"You needn't make it sound like an accusation." Giles moved further into
the room. "Perhaps I can help...?"

"Can you magically increase my weight allowance?"

"We can pay extra for you to take one more bag."

"How big?" He started recalculating what he could pack.

"A large suitcase."

"Who-hoo!" Xander leapt over a pile of books, and sat down to reorganize
the stuff he'd set aside to box. As he began putting things into a pile, he
looked up at Giles. "What?"

Giles was standing there smiling at him. "Nothing."

He couldn't quite help smiling back. Much as he heckled Giles for it, he
loved it when his guardian got that mushy, sappy look on his face when he
looked at Xander. He hoped he never stopped seeing it. That thought
reminded him how close he had come to doing so, and his smile faded.

Picking up on his change of mood, Giles moved towards him. "Xander?"

He suddenly found himself asking the question he'd been worrying over since
the accident. He'd shoved it aside forcefully, that first night watching
over Giles. He'd tried not to think about it at all, which meant mostly
only at night, when he was alone in bed. "What'll happen to me if you--"

An unfair, and selfish question, and he couldn't quite finish asking.

"If I...get into another car accident?"

"If you die," he said quietly, barely able to believe he'd said it. That
he was sitting there calmly, looking up at Giles.

Giles moved the open suitcase to the side and sat beside him. "I've set up
a trust fund for you for one thing."

Xander shook his head. "I mean...I know I'll be eighteen in another year.
But--"

"It's not about money," Giles guessed.

Xander looked away. "It isn't...that I can't take care of myself. I just
didn't know if--" He cut himself off, again. What were the chances he'd
need a new guardian before he turned eighteen? In Giles' line of work,
higher than average.

But what if he wanted someone looking after him, even after he became a
legal adult?

"If you'd still have a family?" Giles asked quietly.

He shrugged. It sounded rather pathetic -- what he was asking for, after
all. Would Giles arrange for him to have a family after his death. As if
it were the sort of thing needing to be arranged, instead of just...being
there already.

But he still wanted to know.

Giles continued speaking in a quiet, informative manner. "I haven't
designated any one person because I didn't know who you would want. But
there's quite a list of volunteers."

"There is?" That surprised him. He'd known -- guessed, at least -- that
Maggie and Everett would be on the list, as next closest relatives. "Who?"

"My parents, for two. And Mrs. Summers. Willow's parents-"

"Mrs. Summers? Buffy's mom? Ira and Sheila Rosenburg?" Xander tried to
wrap his brain around the idea of either of those options. "Willow would
boss me around if she were my sister," he said, distracting himself from
asking how her parents had had the chance to offer, or been asked.

Giles smiled. "Not that she does that now, at all."

"Yeah, but she'd have the authority on her side, then." He rubbed at his
nose, trying not to feel like a five-year-old kid. "They really offered?
Said they'd watch out for `me til I was eighteen?"

Giles nodded. "Mrs. Rosenburg pulled me aside at parent-teacher night,
grilled me at length about you."

Xander half-smirked. "You'd think she'd have just asked Willow." But the
smirk vanished into a real, if small, smile. Then he mock-frowned. "What
did you say about me?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you say anything nice?" he demanded, as if knowing Giles would have
been hard pressed. Before Giles could answer, Xander asked, "Did anyone
else--" But who else was there?

"Angel has also--"

"*Angel*?" For a split second he thought Angel had volunteered to turn
him -- no doubt at Spike's behest. Except Spike would just do it himself,
and Angel certainly wouldn't think it a good idea to tell *Giles*. "Really?"
But to think Angel cared enough to tell Giles he'd keep an eye on him...that
was neat.

"Really."

"Wow. All we need now is Ms. Calendar, and we'd have everybody."

"Um, well, actually...."

Xander stared. Felt his jaw drop and didn't bother trying to pick it up.
"She never said anything." She'd sent a couple letters since she'd left,
telling them in vague detail about her search for Angel's cure. Chatted
about where she was, what she was doing.

Never said 'oh, by the way, put me down as a potential mom'.

"It's not something that is easy to bring up in casual conversation," Giles
pointed out. "Or even not so casual."

"Yeah. How do you ask someone to be a guy's guardian?" Which made a
second question occur. "Why'd you ask so many people, anyhow?"

Giles gave him an odd, amused look. "What makes you think I asked?"

"They just *offered*?" Xander found himself sitting up straight, shocked.
"Just walked up and said 'Hey, if you don't want him, I'll take him'?"

"It wasn't quite put like that," Giles said with a tiny smile. "But
otherwise, yes."

Shifting uneasily, Xander wrapped his arms around his knees. Gazing at all
the stuff he had scattered around Giles' old room, he asked very quietly,
"Why didn't anyone offer earlier, then?" He looked up at Giles. "If you
didn't ask...why didn't they offer before?"

"'Before' being...?"

"Before you took me in. If they were interested, why'd they wait until I
was already somewhere I wanted to be?" He knew Giles didn't have the answer
to that. He wasn't sure he wanted to ask the people who did know the
answer. Half-heartedly, he went back to sorting his stuff into piles.

Giles' arm went around his shoulders. "If they had known, they would've."

He dropped the book he was holding, and leaned sideways into the embrace,
wrapping his arms around Giles. It was true, and it wasn't, and there was
no way to change it, anyway. Trying to lighten the mood, he said, "I guess
the only one not on the list is Uncle Percy."

"Did I leave him out?"

Xander froze for a second, then lifted his head. "Him, too?" Darn it, he
sounded like a little kid asking if Santa was bringing another present.
Maybe Giles was teasing.

"I think your enthusiasm for barrel rolls won him over." Teasing, yes, but
not about the important parts.

Faintly, Xander pointed out, "I only made him do four. The other two he
did on his own."

Giles grinned. "Not that you complained any."

Still nestled in Giles' embrace, Xander allowed himself to be distracted
from the unanswerable questions. "Who asked him to do a loop, then?"

"It wasn't exactly a request," Giles hedged. "I merely asked if it could be
done."

"You knew very well he'd do one if you mentioned it."

"I'm not admitting to anything."

Sighing happily, Xander replied, "You never do."

*************

This time he slept more than he'd meant to. The flight back was just as
exciting as the flight there -- and as much as Xander tried to keep his face
plastered to the window, he found himself nodding off once, regardless. A
short nap, then he went back to pointing out clouds to Giles. Finally they
were approaching Los Angeles. Xander pretended not to notice Giles'
whispered 'thank god'.

The announcement they were landing came over the speaker. "Trip almost
over," Giles observed, glancing at Xander.

"Yeah. Home...wow. You realize we've been away for a *month*? I've never
been gone that long before, if you don't count four weeks in the hospital.
Wonder if Buffy and Willow and everyone got to destroy anything fun?" He
saw a familiar mixture of sadness and anger pass briefly over Giles' face at
the mention of the month in the hospital but he didn't say anything about
that. "I don't mean the liquor store which they already told us -- me
about, so never mind. So what's the first thing *you* wanna do when we get
home?"

"In the past I've usually go home and collapse." Another glance at Xander.
"What do you want to do?"

Xander thought about it. "I suppose we can drop you off at the apartment,
and Willow and I can go see if we can get sick on too many cheeseburgers."

"Missed American food, did you?"

"I just want fries without vinegar on them," Xander admitted. In a more
serious tone, he said, "I fell out of a tree and broke my collarbone. Got
infected. It wasn't...anything anyone did to me."

"Ah. Still couldn't have been very pleasant for you." Giles' expression was
mostly unreadable, but most of the hastily-hidden tension was gone.

Xander shrugged. "It was a long time ago. And I remember how the nurses
were all really nice to me, bringing me candy and toys and stuff."

Giles smiled at him. "That doesn't surprise me."

"*And* I got to miss the first two weeks of school. Tell me *that* doesn't
make it worth while!" Giles might be able to see through his slacker-image
, but that didn't mean he hadn't enjoyed not going to school.

"Broken bones as a means to play hooky. I trust you won't be trying
anything that drastic, now."

Xander looked shocked. "Are you accusing me of being *repetitive*? Staid?
Boring?" He realized his vocabulary was giving him away again. "A dofus?"

"Dofus?" Giles repeated.

"Dweeb?"

Giles gave him one of those looks.

"Aesthetically stifled in my process of creatively displaying a penchant
for remaining home from school?" Xander surprised himself when he got that
out in one breath.

For a long moment Giles just stared. Then he started laughing. With a
grin, Xander settled back in his seat and looked out the window again. The
warm laughter definitely made up for that look he'd seen in the other man's
eyes when he'd accidentally mentioned the hospital stay. Suddenly he
realized he could feel the plane making their final descent and went back to
being glued to the window to see as the ground below became bigger and
bigger.

"When can we go to Egypt?" he asked, eager to do this flying thing again.
Soon.

"Perhaps next summer," Giles said, chuckling.

Which still left the entire rest of this summer. "How about DisneyWorld?"

"Ready to leave again already?"

Xander smiled. "Can I be a pilot when I grow up?" he asked, explaining.

Giles' expression softened. "You can be whatever you want."

"Will you buy me a plane?"

That earned him another burst of laughter. "Instead of a car?"

"No!" Xander looked scandalized. "Not 'instead of'! Geez, what planet are
you from? I'm 17 and from one of those most materialistic nations in the
world. How could I ever mean 'instead of'?"

"Ah. How foolish of me."

Xander nodded. "Yeah. So. Beech?"

"I don't recall saying yes," Giles pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't recall you saying 'no'," Xander replied. "I'd let you fly it,
too." He was getting another one of those Giles' looks again. "Don't make me
say you don't love me," he threatened.

"It loses something when you threaten it ahead of time."

Xander pouted. Crossed his arms in front of his chest and slouched back in
the seat. He could feel the airplane beginning to change altitude, so he
knew he had to get this done fast, so he could watch the descent.

"We don't need a plane," Giles pointed out.

"Why not?" he asked in an entirely too-interested tone of voice. Tried to
get back into the brooding-adolescent slump.

"Why do we not need a plane?" Giles countered patiently.

"I don't know -- I thought we did."

Giles turned the question around. "Why?"

Xander frowned a little. "Why...which?"

"Why do you think...oh never mind."

"Why do I think *which*? That we do or don't need a plane?" He caught the
tiny smirk in the corner of Giles' mouth, and put his hands on Giles' arm.
Shaking it, he repeated, "Why which what?!"

Giles smiled at him. "We're landing."

Xander immediately spun back to the window. "We're landing!" He heard his
guardian's quiet chuckle behind him as he watched their final descent.
Keeping his face plastered against the window, he pointed out, "You still
haven't said 'no'." His mind was going off the conversation, however, as he
realized in less than an hour he would be seeing his friends again.

"I haven't said yes, either."

"You keep saying that, but you keep not saying 'no'." Xander could see the
ground below growing more detailed. Cars looked less like ants and more
like toys. "Maybe you should be whining to your dad to buy us a plane."

"Somehow I don't see that happening."

"Bet grandmum would buy us one."

"You are not asking my mother to buy you a plane."

At that tone, Xander turned around, briefly. "She would, wouldn't she?"

"We're not going to find out."

"Your mom's the best, you know that?" Xander grinned and went back to
watching the ground get closer. Giles hand briefly clasped his arm
affectionately but he didn't say anything. Xander watched the landing
quietly for a bit. Then, "You know, I--"

He felt Giles gaze on him. "What?" he prodded, gently.

Xander felt a little stupid for saying it, but, "I'm glad we went."

"So am I."

"Are we really going back for Christmas?" Maggie had invited them, and
Giles had said, circumstances permitting, they would endeavor to do so.

"If we can, yes."

"And if we can't, they can come visit? Uncle Percy said he might, too. Do
you think he really will?" It was bizarre, looking forward to relatives
dropping in to visit. But he was.

Giles was looking at him fondly again. "I'm sure they will do their best to
do so."

"That'd be cool. I bet Percy and Buffy would get along really well." Not
to mention Willow and his grandparents. She'd have those two adopting her
within seconds of meeting her.

"Most likely, yes. Once the language barrier is breached."

"Oh, Percy seems like a smart chap," Xander laughed.

"Buffy's language is rather....colorful."

Xander stopped himself from correcting Giles that *Spike* was the one with
colorful language and Buffy's was merely picturesque. He was about to try
to word his correction some other way, when, "Look! The runway!"

The conversation stopped until the plane actually touched down. Xander
kept his attention on the outside, until the please be seated light went
out -- well after everyone else had already stood and begun gathering their
bags. Xander popped his seatbelt and accepted the bag Giles handed him,
then set it on the seat and unzipped it.

Giles lifted an eyebrow. "Usually people wait until they're off the plane
to unpack."

"I know. I just need something before we get out there." He pulled the
'something' out, and shook it open. Looking up to see Giles' face as he saw
what it was -- what Maggie had brought for him and not let Giles see -- he
slipped it on.

"Are you going to wear that when you go for cheeseburgers?" Giles asked
mildly.

"Might." He looked down at himself. "It's all the rage among
cheeseburger-eating academics, you know."

"You might start a new trend."

"Maybe. Come on! Let's go." He nudged Giles out of the way, and headed
towards the airplane's door. Chuckling, Giles followed.

Xander was bouncing again by the time they reached the gate's waiting area.
He barely had a chance to scan the crowd before he heard Willow's shout.
"Xander!"

Turning, he saw Willow and Buffy waving at them. He returned their wave --
then looked properly and faintly befuddled when the two girls' expressions
turned shocked as they saw what he was wearing -- nice slacks and a tweed
jacket.

"All right," Buffy said, arms crossed over her chest. "What have you done
with the real Xander?"

"Maybe he's been possessed again," Willow said to her. She looked at
Xander, peering into his eyes. "Xander? Are you in there? Can you hear me?
Don't worry -- we'll find a way to rescue you!"

Xander gave them a nice Gilesian frown of 'we are not amused.'

Buffy turned and glared at Giles. "You assimilated him!"

"Now, Buffy," Giles began.

"It's all right," Xander said in a near-perfect upper-crust English accent.
"You can't expect them to accept it all at once."

Willow's eyes went big, and she looked Xander up and down. "Oh, Xander,"
she said in a tone of heartbreak. "They got you...." Then she broke into
the giggles that she couldn't hold back. The next thing Xander knew, he was
being hugged by his two friends.

They gave Giles equal hugs, though Buffy gave him another frown for having
corrupted Xander. Giles tried to protest that he hadn't anything to do with
it, that it had all been his mother's doing.

Buffy just replied, "I can't glare at her so I'll just have to make do with
you. Sort of a glaring by proxy."

"You *did* tell her to take me shopping," Xander said, helpfully. Giles'
look told him he was *not* being helpful.

"Oo! What did you bring me? Us?" Buffy asked eagerly.

"What makes you think we brought you anything?" Giles asked innocently.

She pouted at him, and Xander noticed that she was as good at it as Willow
ever was. Then he noticed Willow was pouting/pleading as well. Xander
ducked behind Giles. "You tell them we had to ship all their gifts."

The end