Taking England
by JBG
Timeline: After 'Chosen' – post Season 7
Premise: Buffy and Dawn's first glimpse of the land of Giles' birth.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination (and the characters I made up.) Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and/or a bunch of other people own everything else in the Buffyverse...
Buffy/Giles - rated PG-13
Author's Note: I don't know anything about London, but several of the places mentioned in this story were derived from actual businesses and hotels. Forgive me if I scramble their names and locations a bit! Harrod's, of course, remains sacrosanct.
Many thanks to my friend and beta, Dword, for her encouragement. Okay... harassment, but in the very nicest of ways. Keep it up, dear. ;o)
********
"Dawn... wake up. We're here."
The teenager's face wrinkled, and she snuggled further into her blanket.
"Dawnie! Wake up." Snuffling noises emerged from Dawn's direction.
Buffy craned her neck to look at Giles for help. He raised his eyebrows and grinned. She pointed at Dawn. He shook his head with a 'not me!' expression.
"C'mon, Giles, she always listens to you better."
Giles really didn't want to wake Dawn. He was completely content where he was. Nearly eleven hours in a plane afforded plenty of time to experiment with comfy positions. The armrest was moved from between them, the seats were reclined, his Slayer had her head against his chest and his arm was curled around her.
Dawn was sprawled all over the place in her attempt to sleep away the long, boring trip. She had wakened to eat and use the bathroom and then retreated back into her little pillow. At the moment, one of her long, slender legs was across Buffy's lap.
"She'll miss the view," Buffy warned.
"Um hm."
"She won't be able to sleep tonight, y'know. She slept the whole trip."
Giles sighed. He unwrapped his arm from around Buffy and leaned across her to tap the Plexiglas window covering next to Dawn's head.
"Huh? What? Where are we?" Dawn mumbled, sitting up slightly. Giles gave Buffy a triumphant look, and she made a face back.
"Coming into London," Giles informed Dawn, pointing out at the sprawling city below.
"Oh... oh, how cool!" she squeaked, leaning forward for a better view.
"Is that really, totally cool, or absolutely mega-chill?" Buffy teased. The seatbelt sign flashing interrupted her, and they all adjusted their seats and lap belts accordingly. Giles mourned the loss of Buffy's body resting against his, but conceded that the airline had rules against close cuddling during landings.
"I think this is a whole new level of coolness," Dawn decided.
"True."
"It's beyond mega-chill. It's like, a new dimension. There should be a word for it."
"We may have to make one up," Buffy offered seriously.
Dawn nodded with equal gravity, and Giles giggled. Sometimes they were both so... American. Both girls turned to look at him. "What?" they both said in unison.
"Nothing at all, ladies. Nothing at all."
Dawn put her hand on the window as if she could touch the approaching land. "Are you glad to be home, Giles? Were you ever homesick while you were in Sunnydale?"
Her innocent question caught him by surprise. He had to think... was he ever homesick? Or was his life so completely taken up with his Slayer that he hadn't given home a second thought?
"It wasn't supposed to be a stumper, Giles," Dawn remarked with a concerned look.
"Sorry," he murmured. "Too many memories competing for attention."
Buffy took his hand gently and gave it a squeeze. "I know how that feels. Let's just say we're carrying home with us this time, and let it go at that."
His wistful look changed to a grin of genuine pleasure. "What a wonderful way to put things into perspective, love." He leaned over to give her a kiss, but a sudden bump and bounce caused her to pull away with a girlish squeal.
"We're here! We're actually in England!"
********
"How are we actually getting to London?" Buffy queried as she hefted the lion's share of their luggage, which was quite a lot. She had a full-sized suitcase in each hand, a garment bag slung over each shoulder, and a king-sized duffel bag under one arm. Dawn was pulling two rolling suitcases, carrying one soft-side bag on her shoulder, and had her duffel under the opposite arm. Giles, having packed for a short visit, had a garment bag, a travel bag, and one suitcase of his own. He was pulling Buffy's gigantic rolling trunk that seemed to be capable of doubling as a sleeper sofa.
The girls followed Giles as he turned and headed down the hallway. "There are porters that can help us with our luggage," Giles offered, eyeing the excess baggage the girls were carrying.
"Nah, It's okay, we got it," Buffy dismissed the idea with a shrug.
Dawn glared at her... she thought a porter was a pretty good idea. She started following Giles, but realized he was heading away from the front doors. "Hey, where're we going?" Dawn chirped, mindful of the weight of her bags.
"If we're to get to London, we must take the Express."
"What's the Express?" Buffy asked.
Dawn snorted. "Who cares? If it means I don't have to lug this junk all the way there... Lead on, McGiles," she orated dramatically. "I'd make a sweeping gesture, but my hands are full."
Giles gave Dawn a wide grin. "Points to you for the literary reference," he said proudly.
"Go, me."
"You want a literary reference? Is that what it takes to impress you?" Buffy teased as they came up to the Heathrow Express counter. "You're so easy."
"I'll have you know I am not easy. Nor am I cheap."
Dawn guffawed, and Giles gave her a stern look. Her laughter subsided... for the moment, but she continued to grin. The young ticket agent at the counter openly ogled the two lovely young ladies, ignoring Giles completely. Giles sighed and tapped the counter. "Three for Paddington Station, please. First class."
"Is that in London?" Dawn chirped.
"First Class?" Buffy echoed happily.
"Yes," Giles answered both of them with one word. The agent didn't respond until Giles cleared his throat and gave him a pointed look. As the boy started guiltily, Giles dug out a few bills and handed them over. "Sorry I don't have anything smaller. I've been traveling."
"Quite all right, sir," the agent replied smartly as he handed over the change. "I don't mind." His eyes wandered back to Buffy, and Giles' forehead furrowed in displeasure.
"Hey, Giles, we didn't change our money," Dawn realized with some concern.
"Not to worry, we'll do our banking tomorrow."
"Giles, we have money, even if it is American at the moment. We don't expect you to pay for everything," Buffy warned.
"That's what expense accounts are for, love," Giles assured her.
"Really? You have an expense account? And we're an expense?" Buffy's eyes grew wide. Both girls focused on Giles, missing the fact that the ticket agent was equally fascinated with the conversation.
"You're more likely a luxury, love, but yes. Now, don't worry about cost, all right? We'll settle everything once we're home."
"Home," Buffy breathed wistfully. "I like the sound of that."
Giles smiled fondly and turned back to the agent, raising an eyebrow when the young man's attention remained on Buffy and Dawn for a few seconds too long. The agent cleared his throat and passed Giles the tickets. "'Ave a good trip, sir," he said carefully, and watched as the three of them headed for the embarkation platform. Unbidden, Buffy slid next to Giles and put her arm around his waist, lifting his arm around her shoulders. As he looked down at her, surprised, Dawn mimicked her sister and commandeered his other side. The ticket agent's gaze drifted downward to the two perfectly formed female derrieres as they passed, but he turned away swiftly as Giles' glare caught him through the glass.
"Cor... two of 'em. Lucky sod," he murmured, shaking his head.
********
"That was cool, especially the tunnel part," Dawn enthused as they entered Paddington Station. "I've never been on a train before."
With a look, Giles called over a porter to transport their luggage. As the man was loading his cart, Buffy looked up at Giles. "You're really going all out."
"I would've taken care of the luggage at the airport, but you lot beat me to the punch."
"I didn't want anyone stealing my suitcase," Buffy said with a slight pout.
"It's okay to be a little cautious," Giles said soothingly.
Buffy gave a quick laugh. "Yeah, that's me, Caution Girl. But I guess if Giles gets his jollies from throwing a little money around, who am I to argue?"
"You're so right," Dawn agreed thankfully, and handed her last two bags to the porter. "Okay, Giles, now where?"
He held out his arm, indicating that the girls should precede him. They followed the bustling porter to the entrance and waited as several cars pulled up to the curb. There were all sizes and shapes of cars, many of which Buffy and Dawn had never seen before. Dawn was about to voice her impatience when a long, silver and gray vintage-looking car pulled in front of them. The driver immediately jumped out and greeted Giles.
Two female jaws dropped as they recognized the 'flying lady' hood ornament. "Oh, my God, Buffy! It's a Rolls!" Dawn shrieked, jumping up and down.
"A 1967 Rolls Royce Phantom V limousine," Giles corrected mildly, then turned back to converse with the driver again.
"Giles, this is too much," Buffy protested despite her delight. She'd never been in a Rolls Royce limo before. She'd only been in a limo once, and that was an accident. Something about all this was bothering her.
Giles looked at her, slightly bewildered. "This is a staff car. The Council have several."
Suddenly, in Buffy's mind, the words 'richest person on earth' and 'Giles' slammed together. Her eyes glazed over and she fell silent. Dawn grabbed her arm and ushered her towards the door, which was now being held open by the smiling driver.
"She's not usually this catatonic," Dawn apologized, nudging her sister further into the car. "I think the whole 'filthy rich' thing just now soaked in."
Giles gave Dawn a sympathetic grin. With another quick word to the driver, he slid in beside Buffy, taking one of her hands in his. She rubbed a hand over the incredibly soft leather seats, and then turned her stricken eyes towards him. He smiled comfortingly. In front of them, a cooler with a classy looking bottle was framed by four sparkling clean glasses. Buffy stared at them, focusing on the bright points of light formed by light reflecting off the crystal.
The Rolls pulled quietly away from the curb, the sounds from passing traffic effectively muffled by the protective interior of the car.
"Champagne?" Giles said softly, noticing where her attention was placed. He unwrapped the top and applied the proper pressure to the cork. As it began to give, he swiftly dropped a heavy white cloth over the pressurized contents. The 'pop' sounded deafening in the enclosed space, and the cork harmlessly remained trapped in the soft cotton. He held up the gently smoking bottle again and gave Buffy a quizzical look.
Buffy's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Finally, she pressed her lips together and nodded.
"I'm sixteen, Giles," Dawn reminded happily, holding out her glass. "I read on the 'net the legal drinking age in England is sixteen."
"It's eighteen, I'm afraid." Dawn's pout returned in full force. Giles ignored her and continued in his best lecture voice, "However, in the presence of a parent or guardian, alcohol can be consumed as early as age five."
Dawn's face brightened. Giles carefully poured her a small amount, ignoring her protest. Buffy finally looked up at him, her eyes still dazed. He poured her glass and then served himself. He leaned back and took a determining sip, savoring the flavor before swallowing.
"Ah, excellent. Old Travers certainly knew his wine."
Buffy's mind clicked, and she suddenly shouted, "Ah HAH!", startling both her companions. She gave Giles an accusing glare. "I thought you bought all this for us. I thought you were trying to impress me... us. I thought you were showing off. But you didn't... weren't... aren't. Right?"
Giles smiled sadly. "I didn't think I could fool you for long, love."
"What do you mean?" Dawn was completely confused.
Buffy turned to her sister. "This is how the Head Honcho Watchers lived while we were busting our butts on the Hellmouth," she explained. "Giles has been trying to tell us that all along, but it wasn't soaking in." She frowned, looking at her glass. "This isn't right, Giles. Watcher guys shouldn't live like this while their Slayers flip hamburgers in California. They were skimming their fat salaries right off the top while I wondered where our next meal was coming from.
"They could have paid me a salary from the start, or as soon as Mom died, but they didn't. They didn't even care. They should have been making the Slayer's life easier. Instead, they made it harder. Look at Faith... she was left without a dime when her Watcher died, and maybe she wouldn't have been such a psycho if she had thought someone cared. This isn't right!"
"Well said, love. My sentiments exactly. I'm counting on you to help me set things right." Giles held up his glass. "However... as decadent it may seem, it would be a shame to waste good champagne. I believe a toast seems in order... here's to the new Royal Council of Watchers. May it never again forget its purpose."
"There are definitely going to be some changes made," Buffy stated firmly. The clink of glasses echoed in the small compartment. The three of them sipped.
After a few seconds, Dawn's face turned an interesting shade of red. "Bleeaauuch," she complained. "I thought champagne was supposed to taste good."
As Giles and Buffy both burst out laughing, the driver smiled. It had been a long time since laughter had been heard in the back of this vehicle.
********
It was almost comical. When they arrived at the hotel, both girls jumped out and craned their necks to stare at the imposing building. The brilliant white façade amazed them both. Their driver began unloading their baggage onto another padded cart as the two young Americans rubbernecked like crazy. Dawn cried, "Ooo! Look!" about twenty times before they reached the lobby.
Giles was obviously expected. The hotel manager came out from behind the large wooden reception area and greeted him with the air of a long lost friend.
"Rupert! I never expected to see you here! I thought Benson had made a typographical error!"
"Never is a very long time, Andrew. I've come home at last."
"You're always welcome at The Regent Arms, Rupert. Anything you need will be yours in a snap." The manager proved his point by producing a bellboy with a loud pop of his fingers. The boy took over the luggage cart and immediately started for the freight elevator. "You and your two lovely ladies need only ask, and it shall be yours!"
"Do you know everybody in London, Giles?" Dawn asked with awe in her voice.
"It seems so, at times," he replied with a chuckle.
"Ah, but The Regent is special, eh, Rupert? Remember the ghost hunt?" Andrew chuckled and dug a rib into Giles' side. Giles grin turned slightly sheepish, but he nodded.
"I remember it well, and don't you be filling these impressionable young ladies' heads with your ceaseless prattle."
"Oh, please, prattle away, Andrew," Buffy declared, wrapping her arm around Giles'. "We young ladies love gossip, especially about Rupert."
"Ah, but it isn't gossip, my dear," Andrew assured her. "I have first-hand knowledge of several incidents myself."
"We were boys, Andrew," Giles growled as Buffy giggled with delight.
"Another time, perhaps?" The manager winked at Buffy. "I must return to my duties. If there's anything you want to know about Rupert Giles in his formative years, you must come and ask me."
"Will do," Buffy agreed. She gave Giles a nudge, and he reluctantly grinned.
"His father owned this hotel before him. He's an old friend. We played together in these halls when Father came for Council business... which was often." he explained.
"Cute. Does he know you're a Watcher?"
"He knows I went away to join some obscure organization with a lot of influence. He's far too polite to pry."
"I wouldn't call that prying. I would call that being a friend."
"Yes, well, it's a bit difficult to keep up with someone who's in another country."
"So... in your quaint, British way, you're saying we have to watch what we say around ol' Andrew."
"Quite." He gave her arm a squeeze, and she smiled up at him. Mentally, she was planning how she could get Andrew alone to talk about pint-sized Giles.
"Okay..." She deliberately changed the subject. "Let's go check out the room."
In typical teenage fashion, Dawn beat them upstairs. She was already lounging on one of the settees when they arrived. Since she'd been asleep most of the flight, she was full of energy and raring to go. "Look at this place, Buff! It looks like a museum, except it doesn't smell! And there's a whole separate room with another bed! No sleeping on a rollaway!"
"I don't believe they have rollaways here," Giles mused. "Dawn, this is your room... your bed, and your personal television. Keep it to a low roar, all right? Now, we should get some rest. It's already nearly teatime."
"Oh, I'm not tired! I feel great! And kinda hungry."
"We've reservations for the Drawing Room at four. You might want to unpack and relax for a while. Afternoon tea here is rather... formal."
"Oh, can we dress up? I want to dress up!"
Buffy was beginning to feel the jetlag setting in. At the moment, she just wasn't in shape to keep up with her babbling sister. "You may dress up. You can unpack and do whatever you want...quietly... but I need a nap." She put a hand on Giles' arm and peered up at him. "You look like you could use a nap, too," she wheedled, giving him a beseeching look.
"As a matter of fact, I am a bit done in." Giles kept a straight face, but Dawn couldn't. She started giggling.
"I'm going to my room voluntarily, before I'm ordered away due to the obvious need for smoochies."
"Dawn," Buffy began, but Dawn waved her hand and interrupted.
"Hey, I'm not the one who ordered one queen and one king bed. I think you need to talk to Mister Moneybags, over there. He's the one with all the 'ideas'."
"The Regent doesn't have three bed suites," Giles said apologetically.
"I don't have a problem with the bed," Buffy told him firmly. "Dawn. Go to your room."
"See? I told you! The little sister gets banished so the hanky-panky can start. I've been here before! Just remember, the walls are thin."
"Go away, Dawn," Buffy said with a chuckle.
Dawn blew her sister and Giles a kiss and pulled the door closed with a deliberate bang. From behind the door, they could just barely hear her shout, "Hey, and the bathroom is out there, so just pretend you don't hear me sneaking by later."
Buffy waved a tired hand at the closed door and turned to Giles, who had an uncertain look on his face. She sighed, grabbed his arm, and led him to the beautifully decorated bed. She pulled off her jacket and boots and pointed to his feet until he removed his loafers. They both collapsed onto the soft duvet, sighed in weary unison, and were asleep in mere seconds.
Buffy woke to the unfamiliar feeling of arms wrapped around her. She blinked groggily and started to sit up. The arms tightened for a few seconds, and then the owner of the arms released her and sat up beside her.
"What time is it?" she asked gruffly.
Giles opened his mouth to answer, but the telephone by the bed beat him to it by ringing loudly. He answered it. Buffy flopped back down and watched him appreciatively as he talked briefly. "Yes? Ah, thank you, yes." He put the receiver down and smiled. "That was our wake-up call. We have about a half hour before tea."
Buffy scrambled off the bed in a panic. "Thirty minutes? Is that all? I have to get ready!" She grabbed one of her suitcases and her overnight bag and practically flew to the bathroom leaving Giles to blink in her wake.
He decided to check on Dawn. He knocked on her door, and she opened it immediately. "Did you hear? Tea is in thirty minutes."
"Yep. I'm almost ready. I'll have to fight Buffy for the bathroom in a minute."
He thought about that for a moment, regretting that the suite only had one WC. "I suppose I shall be last in line."
"Yeah, but you look great no matter what. Even with bed hair."
He automatically reached to smooth his hair, and Dawn pointed at him and giggled. "Psyche!" she crowed, closing the door before he could retaliate.
He sighed. Teenagers. He looked around the large room and decided to watch a little telly. No telling what had gone on in Parliament in his absence. He soon gave up trying to hear the news and listened with amusement as Buffy and Dawn fought over the bathroom. Giles was familiar with their usual squabbling, but something as important as proper lighting for makeup application made them unusually fervent in their disagreement. He decided to abandon his program and find something to wear.
He had just removed his shirt when both girls exited the battle zone and stopped dead in the center of the room. Both of them stared at him until he snapped, "Do you mind? Since the bathroom has been occupied for the past twenty-five minutes, I was forced to change in here. Now, go about your business." He selected a shirt from the closet and removed it from the hanger.
Buffy tilted her head to one side and regarded him with interest. "Don't mind me. I was just waiting for the pants to drop."
Dawn burst into laughter as she threw her hands up and over her eyes. "Buffy! Ewww!"
"You don't have to watch, little sis," Buffy informed her, never taking her eyes off Giles. "I can handle the ogling all by myself."
"Oh, good Lord!" Giles snatched his suit from the closet, threw the shirt over his shoulder and strode into the bathroom. He could hear them both giggling behind him. Despite his ire, he had to grin as he remembered Buffy's appreciative appraisal. If Dawn hadn't been in the room, he would not have taken nearly as much exception to her leering.
A few minutes later, shaved, dressed, and combed, he opened the door. The girls were waiting on him, both dressed to the nines. He recognized Buffy's dress as one of her favorite Bronze-going outfits.
"Mmm, yummy Giles," Buffy growled, causing him to blush. She spun gracefully and faced him with a grin. "Will this do?"
"Admirably. You both look lovely," he said sincerely. "May I escort you two ladies to tea?"
They each took one of his arms and the three of them left the room. Giles couldn't decide if he was pleased or angry that every man, regardless of age, that they encountered on their way downstairs was eyeing the girls with a great deal of interest. As they entered the lobby, he decided on being pleased and just a tiny bit smug. The feeling stayed with him the entire time, combining with the delight he felt at sharing a formal tea with his two young companions. In particular, he loved the light that shone in Buffy's eyes as she enjoyed the age-old ritual and the unusual dishes. He vowed to himself to bring Buffy here again... alone... and soon.
"I think I ate one of everything," Dawn complained as waiters cleared away the last of the plates and cups.
"I think you ate two of everything," Buffy corrected drowsily, rubbing her full stomach. "That was like a meal... only in tiny little bites."
Giles chuckled. "One doesn't normally eat that much at tea, loves."
"But we were hungry," Dawn defended.
"And jet lagged," Buffy added.
"I hope you're going to have an appetite for supper. I have reservations."
"Are we dressing up again?" Dawn asked hopefully.
"It's a more casual atmosphere," Giles answered, smiling at her slight pout.
"That's good for me," Buffy decided. "It's too cold for dresses around here, anyway."
Giles sipped the last of his wonderful, properly brewed tea and handed the cup to a waiting server. "Thank you, that was excellent," he told the man. The server murmured his thanks as he bowed slightly and went about his business.
"I don't think I'll be able to eat for a week." Buffy stretched luxuriously, groaning.
Dawn snorted. "You'll probably be hungry in an hour. My sister is a pig," she confided to Giles with a knowing wink.
"Slayer metabolism," Buffy protested. "I burn it all off."
"Speaking of burning off a meal... would either of you like to go to the Tate with me?" Giles stood, stretching slightly. A brisk walk seemed just the thing, and he hadn't been to a museum for pure pleasure in years. "We can walk from here... it's not far."
"What's the Tate?" both girls said simultaneously. They looked at each other and grinned. "Jinx," Buffy quipped. "You owe me a coke."
"Hey!"
"The Tate," Giles interrupted, "is an art gallery. A collection of galleries, in fact. There are two close by. The Tate British is more traditional. The Tate Modern is... well..."
"Modern?" Buffy suggested cheekily. "I vote Modern. I've had a little too much tradition already." She rubbed her tummy gravely and winked at Giles to let him know she wasn't serious.
"Modern it is, then. It's across the Thames from here, but there is a charming ferry that can take us there in just a few minutes."
"Oh! A boat ride? I'm so there," Dawn said immediately. "I love the water."
"Should we change?" Buffy asked.
"I think not, unless you're uncomfortable." Giles glanced out the window. The sky was overcast. "We should get our coats, however. It's a bit cooler here than in California."
"Yeah, like about a hundred degrees cooler."
"Do you think it'll snow?" Dawn asked with a hopeful expression. "I love snow."
"So do I," he answered. "One never knows with an English winter."
********
They left the gallery just before closing time and strolled back to the hotel. The telephone was ringing in the room when they entered. Giles offered to let Buffy answer it, but she waved him on and plopped down into an overstuffed chair. Dawn made a beeline for her room, complaining about walking all over London in heels. He smiled as he lifted the receiver. "Giles here."
Buffy listened half-heartedly as he discussed Council business with some unnamed Watcher. It wasn't until he mentioned the word "Slayer" that her attention sharpened.
"Technically, they're all Slayers now. Yes, I know experience counts. I saw that first hand. I'll ask her, but she's earned a bit of a rest, don't you think? I'll let you know. Yes, by tomorrow morning at the latest. Call me if you have any trouble with that shipment. All right. Good-bye."
"Ask her what?"
He swiveled to look at her, lost in thought for a few seconds. "Oh, the remaining Watchers would like to meet you."
"Why?"
He shrugged. "Notoriety has its drawbacks, love."
She stood, slipping off her heels. "I have to change into something more comfortable. You did say casual tonight, right? When is dinner?"
"Eight o'clock. We have about forty-five minutes before we need to leave."
"Eight seems kinda late."
"In Sunnydale, you rarely ate before patrol. I should think eight would seem early."
"Yeah, it should. Somehow, it doesn't. Maybe it's the time change."
"It's possible. I suppose we could do a quick patrol of Green Park, if you need to feel more at home."
"You mean the one down the street? I doubt a vampire could find a place to hide there."
"Behind a tree, perhaps."
Buffy laughed. "No thanks. I can't believe I don't have to patrol."
"Not unless you volunteer, love. Any late nights, now and forever forward, shall be simply by choice."
Her eyebrows went up in sudden appreciation. "I'm beginning to see the light, here."
"I thought you might."
"I really have it made, now, don't I?"
Dawn's voice drifted in from the other room. "When do we eat, again? I'm already hungry."
"It's only been a couple of hours!" Buffy groaned.
"I'm a growing girl!"
"If you grow any more, you'll be taller than Giles!"
"So? I'll be 'statuesque' then. I could be a statuesque model."
Buffy laughed loudly, causing Dawn to retaliate by appearing in the door and sticking out her tongue. "Nah, you'll just be a statuesque brat," Buffy informed her.
As he listened, Giles hung up his jacket and tie and slipped off his shoes. He padded over to Buffy, who was still standing in the middle of the room. "If you don't mind..." he took her by the arms and repositioned her so he could get to the sofa. "I'd like to catch up on local news." He aimed the remote control at the TV and clicked until he was satisfied with the results. He sat back with a sigh.
Buffy grabbed a handful of clothes and headed for the bathroom. "Back in a sec."
Giles grunted, already absorbed in his TV watching. He was slightly surprised when Buffy, now dressed in jeans and a soft, oversized angora sweater, plopped down beside him and snuggled close. He raised an arm and pulled her closer, smiling at her happy moan. After a few minutes, Dawn came out wearing oversized, pink, fuzzy bunny slippers. He did his best not to chuckle. She took up the space on his other side, pulling her feet up under her as she curled her long, slender frame under his other arm.
Giles decided he was perfectly comfortable where he was. He watched his program uninterrupted as his two girls dozed against him.
When it was almost time to leave, Giles wisely nudged the girls awake to give them time to freshen up. He called first dibs on the WC, and emerged dressed in his suit pants and a soft, forest green silk shirt. Buffy let her approval be known by running her hands over the fabric around his arms, chest and shoulders until he had to remind her to get ready herself.
Giles called for the car, and in just a few minutes they set out for their first evening in London.
********
The Rolls deposited them outside a small pub in Covent Garden. The sign swinging above the door read, "The Old Place." Dawn's expression said she wasn't too impressed, but Buffy instantly loved the intimate setting. "Where are we?" she asked him with a smile.
"I thought you might like a true taste of England."
"I don't have to eat blood pudding or anything like that, do I?" Dawn made a sour face.
"Heavens, no. I don't like it, myself." Giles ushered the two girls forward, and they saw immediately why he had made reservations. The place was packed. Giles raised a hand and the burly bartender immediately broke out in the widest grin Buffy had ever seen. He flipped up a section of the bar and quickly made his way towards them.
"Ripper Giles! Long time no see!" The man grabbed Giles' hand and pumped it vigorously. "I couldn't believe it when Mort told me you had reservations tonight!" He slapped Giles' shoulder heartily, laughing. "Last I heard you were across the pond. And look at you... no leather? You've gone respectable, you old dog!"
"And what about you, Digger? A proprietor, for God's sake! Mort told me you'd bought out old Fuller." He looked around, taking a deep breath. "Wonderful," he breathed. "You haven't changed a thing."
"And the food is as good as it ever was," Digger agreed. "Come now, man, introduce me to these lovely ladies... or did you merely happen to enter the door at the same time?"
"Digby Stewart, meet Buffy Summers and her sister, Dawn." Both girls politely shook the man's huge, meaty hand and murmured appropriate words. "Digger and I were at Oxford together... for a time, anyway."
"After he straightened up, of course," Digger elaborated. "His reputation scared most of the underclassmen away. Only a few of us were brave enough to befriend him."
Giles gave his old friend a warning look, which only made Digger laugh louder.
Buffy's eyes lit up. "Giles, I'll say it again... you do know everyone in London! And I'm just dying to hear all those "I remember when" stories about Ripper... especially the embarrassing ones!"
After promising to come back when things calmed down a bit, Digger showed them to a cozy table in one corner of the pub. They had a perfect view of the entire first floor.
Giles ordered for them all, despite Dawn's worried protests. The meal was tasty and not at all strange or unidentifiable. Buffy's glazed chicken disappeared quickly, as did Dawn's steak and Giles' roast. The girls tasted some of Giles' fruit pudding for dessert, but they were too full to indulge in their own servings. Finally, they leaned back, sated and slightly drowsy.
After the crowd began to thin out Digger came over and chatted with them for a few minutes, completely winning Buffy and Dawn over with his teasing version of Giles' college days. The man never asked their relationship to Giles, which surprised Buffy a little bit, but he seemed quite willing to embarrass his old friend at any opportunity. Giles took it all in stride, although some of the stories had him blushing furiously.
During a lull in the conversation, Giles leaned forward, concern on his face. "How are you, really?" he asked quietly.
Digger dropped his gaze for a moment and then looked up with a wry smile. "I'm good, Rupert. Really. This place has been good for me."
Giles put a friendly hand on Digger's shoulder. "I'm glad of it. And if you need anything, you know where I'll be."
"Be careful, old man," Digger said sincerely as he stood. Giving his regrets, he headed back to wait on customers.
Giles stood, indicating that it was time to leave. On their way to the car, Buffy grabbed Giles' arm. "Is Digger an ex-Watcher?"
He looked down at her, eyebrows raised. "What made you think that?"
"He never asked who we were, or why we were running around London with you. It was obvious we weren't your kids... no calling you 'Dad'. So... unless he just didn't care, then he had to know we had a special relationship."
"Perhaps he was being discreet."
Buffy tilted her head and looked at him in disbelief. "After some of the stuff he told us about you? And what was all that 'be careful' stuff. If he wasn't a Watcher, why would he tell you that? I think it's because he knows what happened to the rest of the Watcher guys."
"All right... yes, he was a Watcher. He was assigned a potential Slayer just after we graduated."
"Was?" The conversation stopped while they got into the car, but Buffy was insistent. "What happened?"
Giles looked out the window, a sad expression taking over his face. "It was a few years ago... long before we knew anything about the First and its campaign against us. She was killed... totally by accident, or so they say... by a stray crossbow bolt during a vampire attack. I sometimes wonder..."
"Harsh... poor guy," Dawn said sympathetically. "So he didn't come back to be a Watcher after that?"
"No. I haven't seen him since I became Buffy's watcher. He seems to be coping quite well."
To himself he added, 'Better than I did when I lost my Slayer.'
Buffy just rested her head against his shoulder and squeezed his arm tightly. He cleared his throat, and she knew instantly what he was thinking. She lifted herself up to kiss his cheek tenderly, and he managed a shaky smile.
"I'm all right," he said softly. "You're here now."
"Darn tootin'," she said with conviction. "And here I'm staying, buster. Don't you forget it."
********
The girls got a first-hand look at the workings of a fine hotel when they arrived back at their suite. The lights had been lowered, the beds turned back with tiny chocolates on the pillows, and a new supply of fresh towels graced the restroom.
"So this is how the other half lives," Dawn remarked happily, munching on her chocolate between words. "Yum, this stuff is really good. Too bad the pieces are so small."
"If they were any bigger, we'd be oinkers after we stayed here a week," Buffy advised, popping her own candy into her mouth. "Mmmmm good!"
Giles grinned at them and ate his own candy. He wandered into the sitting area, took off his shoes and placed them in the closet. He then slid on the wonderfully warm pair of slippers that were waiting for him by the heating vent. His sigh caught Buffy's attention.
"What?"
"Just enjoying having warm feet," he said drowsily. "You each have a pair." He pointed to the smaller, obviously feminine slippers.
"You mean, they do this for everybody? How do they know how big our feet are?" Buffy immediately shucked her boots and plunged her chilly toes into the inviting house shoes. "Oh, that is just heaven," she breathed.
Dawn, who was concentrating on the TV in her room, dashed out, grabbed her pair and ran back into her room. Despite the closed door, they could hear her moaning in delight as she put on her toasty warm slippers.
Giles chuckled. "Andrew has the gift of guessing shoe sizes. It became a bit of a joke to the rest of the lads, but it's put him on the map in the hotel business."
"At this point, I don't care if he consults a Ouija board. My feet are most happy." Buffy sat down and patted the couch. "The rest of me needs a happy, too. Are you too tired for snuggles?" She gave him her best winsome look.
"I am a bit fatigued," he began, but chuckled as her face fell into a pronounced pout. "Oh, if I must." He adopted a resigned air and joined her, circling her shoulders as if on automatic pilot.
She punched him lightly in the ribs. "If you look at your watch, you're a dead man."
Giles giggled and made himself... and her... more comfortable. "Better?"
"Improving."
He leaned slightly forward and down, angling his face over hers for a perfect, thorough kiss.
"Mmmmm," she responded. She felt his mouth turn upwards in a smile, so she resolved to get his attention more completely.
After a minute, she knew her attempt was successful.
********
The next morning Giles had to do some work at the new headquarters office, so he left Buffy and Dawn in the suite with a handful of money and a map of Central London. He made them both promise to stay in the vicinity until he returned sometime before tea, then he left them to their own devices.
They immediately decided that a trip to Harrod's in Knightsbridge was the perfect way to kill time, so they dressed and took a cab to the famous department store. It was a blissfully entertaining time for Dawn, and Buffy found herself watching her little sister as she explored the various floors. She was so hoping that London would become their home, both in fact and in heart.
Despite being a born-and-raised Californian, Buffy's memories of that state were mixed, at best. Sure, she had good times there, but so much hurt and anguish came right along with the good. She decided to embrace London wholeheartedly. Being here with Giles was incredible. She had never been so happy. She needed to find a way to let her very British Watcher know just how determined she was to love him and his home country.
A sudden, very off-the-wall idea came to her, and she began to grin. She kept grinning until Dawn stopped her shopping and demanded to know what was wrong.
Buffy refused to say, despite Dawn's begging. The grin stayed with her until they started back to the hotel.
Boy, Giles was going to be surprised.
********
Tea was the usual lovely affair, with everyone dressed to the hilt and on their best behavior. Well, in Dawn's case, the best behavior one could expect from a teenager. Buffy couldn't get used to the practice of dressing more elegantly for a snack than a meal, but she was definitely enjoying the food. She even liked cucumber sandwiches.
Afterwards, Giles intended to head back to the Council to finish up a few details. Buffy and Dawn insisted on going with him, curious about the place and the people. Their usual Rolls limo picked them up at the hotel within minutes of Giles' call.
"You'd think he was waiting around the corner, gunning the engine, just waiting for a chance to take that baby for a spin," Dawn teased as they settled into the back. "Maybe he was a race car driver in a past life."
"Actually..." Giles began, but stopped at a frantic wave of Dawn's hand.
"No, no, I don't want to know the truth, Giles! Leave me with my comfy fantasy world!"
Buffy laughed as Dawn closed her eyes and pretended to drift off into her dreams. She leaned into Giles, squeezing his arm. "Have I mentioned how absolutely lickable you look in that suit?" she whispered, enjoying his quick flush of embarrassment.
"Not in front of the child," he whispered fiercely. "We did promise."
"Yeah," she agreed reluctantly. "Sort of promised, anyway. Under protest."
"We'll have our time," he promised in a low voice that sent shivers down her spine.
They pulled up to the curb, and once again the two young Californians were in complete awe of the architecture before them. The building rose at least ten stories in the air, with severe, gothic-looking carvings decorating every level. The façade was gray stone, unmoving and seemingly indestructible.
"Shades of Dark Shadows," Dawn whispered in awe, causing Buffy to giggle uncontrollably.
"That was before your time!" Buffy declared.
"Reruns, my low-tech sister," Dawn explained with a superior air.
As they started up the steps, Giles turned to the girls with a quizzical expression on his face. "Why on earth, with all the goings-on that Sunnydale had to offer, would you watch a vampiric soap opera?"
"For the same reason I watch any other show on television, Giles. For the laughs."
********
The interior of the Watcher's building was equally impressive. Buffy lost track of the number of marbled hallways and huge oak doorways they'd traversed. Finally, they came to a smartly appointed reception area. Behind the desk was a young, rather disheveled looking man frantically shuffling papers from one pile to another.
Giles walked up to the counter and sighed. "Anthony, I distinctly remember telling you to knock off for the evening."
"I know, Chairman Giles, but I had a thought about where the ritual might be..."
Giles smiled at him. "And you thought you might take a quick look."
"Yes, sir. Exactly. And while I've found the reference list..." he held up a sheaf of yellowed papers. "I haven't put my hand on the actual ceremony."
"It isn't important, Anthony," Giles assured him gently.
"Oh, but it is, sir! You must be properly inducted! It's my duty to prepare everything..." he began digging through a different stack on the huge desk. "Despite the circumstances, you must be afforded the full dignity and gravity this type of promotion offers! Aha!" He seized a bound document from halfway through a stack, causing the rest of the pile to shift and slide away onto the floor. "Here it is! I knew it had to be here!"
"Very good," Giles said with tolerant humor. "Now, I have someone I would like you to meet."
Anthony immediately snapped to attention and tried to push his long, dark hair back into place. "Terribly sorry, sir. I'm honored, of course."
"Anthony Wyndam-Pryce, allow me to present my Slayer, Buffy Summers, and her sister, Dawn."
The boy's eyes glazed over with the greeting, and he froze for a moment before belatedly offering his hand to both of them. Giles wasn't sure if it was their beauty or their status that caused the effect.
As the boy babbled something about honor and pleasure, Dawn turned and caught Buffy's eye. "He's cute!" she mouthed, then giggled and began talking to Anthony as if they were old friends.
Buffy sidled over to Giles, concerned. "Is this guy all right? I mean, he looks like he could be Wesley's cousin... um... wait... Wyndam-Pryce... something sounds familiar there..."
Giles chuckled and took her by the elbow, steering her towards the interior office. "Yes, love, as a matter of fact, he is young Wesley's cousin. Second, I believe. The family resemblance is remarkable, isn't it?"
Buffy's smart remark was forgotten as Giles turned on the lights. Beautifully designed light fixtures shed light into every corner and she saw just how big... and magnificent... his office truly was.
"Gadzooks," she said in a small voice. She began to wander around the room, looking at the opulent furnishings. She wondered idly how many of the paintings on the walls were originals.
"It is a bit... ostentatious, isn't it?" Giles commented mildly. "Still, the files I need are here, and it even has a private loo."
"Loo?"
"A bathroom. Without a bath, although it has a very nice shower."
"Shower?"
"Yes, and if I clap my hands, a large, blue genie appears and does the rumba whilst granting three wishes."
"Wishes?"
Giles began to giggle. She was completely out of it. Finally his giggling penetrated the fog she was in and she gave him a glare.
"I'm sorry... you were repeating the last word in every statement, so I thought I'd test you." He crossed the room and pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the desk.
"Ha, ha. But this is just so... not you. It's so... Quentin Travers, it's pathetic."
"True." He sat down in the massive leather chair, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through it. She was too preoccupied to see what he had taken out and put in his jacket pocket. "It's only a starting point, love. This kind of excess makes me, well, embarrassed is the best word I can think of at the moment."
"Yeah," she agreed. Suddenly it seemed like the perfect time to give Giles his surprise.
"Won't be another moment, love." He shuffled several files, lining them up in proper order, and made a pretense of straightening his desk, all the while watching her. She was up to something, he could tell.
"I totally agree with you about the Council, Giles. They've been living the cushy life too long. Not that perks aren't a good thing, but buying out the Taj Mahal is a little much."
"Yes. There needs to be guidelines... retraining... updating of old, antiquated ways of thinking..."
"And I'm just the girl to help you with all this, right?"
He smiled happily, and Buffy's heart thumped a few times in response. "I was hoping so."
"Well, I gotta tell ya..." She hesitated deliberately, wanting to draw out the moment. She didn't notice the way his face fell at her words. "This is a big job."
"Yes," he said softly, inwardly steeling himself for her disapproval. Her reaction to all the glitz and glamour was less than favorable. He might have been a little presumptuous to assume she'd fall right in and start sorting things out.
"I'm sure the Chairman of the Council has lots of power, though... right?"
Giles nodded, his face impassive. "Quite a lot."
"And if you say 'jump' these guys are going to shout 'how high?'... right?"
"For the most part, yes. I am the ruling member now."
"Sooo... if I was going to help you clean up this organization, I'd need a little pull of my own, right?"
He could see that she was leading him towards something, and he began to relax just a little. "You are the Slayer," he reminded her. "The very reason this organization exists."
"Yeah, but now there are a ton of Slayers all over the world. I'm not such unique property any more."
"You were never property, love... not to me." He locked the center drawer and stepped around the desk, curious about her purpose. "You know this."
"Sure, I do. But I was just thinking... wouldn't a little extra clout go a long way... for me, that is... towards getting everyone to cooperate? I mean, you're the big Chairman guy, right? What if a little bit of that power rubbed off on me?"
Giles stopped just a few feet away from her. "And just how could you manage that?" His eyes bored into hers, and she almost forgot her speech. Almost.
"Um... well, I was thinking... we're already so close, and we're here, in England, doing English stuff and all... and I really like England when you're here, so I was just wondering..."
She stepped up until she was toe-to-toe with him. His height forced him to drop his chin to his chest to see her face.
"Hmmm?" he rumbled, and she could almost feel the sound even though they weren't touching.
"Rupert Giles, will you marry me? 'Cause I sure want to marry you, and I was a little worried, what with all the busy-ness, you might take a while to get settled, and I want to be settled with you and help you get all this straightened out. Besides, I love you. So... there. What do you say?"
He didn't say anything. He stared at her, right into her eyes, until she began to feel uncomfortable. This wasn't happening the way she'd imagined. He was supposed to sweep her into his arms and declare his undying love. Actually, they'd sort of declared undying love already, just not in so many words. At least that was her intention. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure about his.
"Say something," she said with a catch in her voice.
Part of her mind shouted, 'Don't push! He might say NO!' It was too late, though... the words were already past her lips. She tried to read his expression, but all she saw was serious consternation. It thoroughly rattled her.
"Giles, please, say something. I'm dying, here!"
He looked away, over her shoulder, and for a moment she saw regret. It scared her even more than his silence. She was just about to start crying and run away when the regret on his face turned to something else. His eyes took on the shine of someone fighting to hold back tears.
"Oh, Giles, I didn't mean to upset you! I'm sorry, my timing sucks so bad..."
"Yes, it does," he agreed roughly, swallowing hard.
'This is it,' she thought. 'He's going to say 'It's been fun, but I'm not ready for a wife that's part spoiled brat and part monster.'
He cleared his throat and looked down at her. His eyes softened as he saw her fear. He reached out and cupped her face in his free hand. "Self-doubt is a terrible thing, love," he said softly. "I should know."
She looked up at him, something in the tone of his voice giving her a small shred of hope.
"I'm not angry, love." He leaned down and kissed her softly. "Merely disappointed you beat me to the question," he explained in a tender voice.
"You... I... huh?" One tear escaped and ran down her face despite her best efforts. He thumbed it away, smiling.
"Yes, you see, I intended to ask you the same question tonight, after dinner. Had it all planned out, and now you've gone and spoiled everything." His thumb moved to her lips, caressing their outline gently. "Incorrigible creature that you are."
"You mean... I mean, you mean... it sounds like you mean... is that a yes?" she stammered, getting a little impatient with him. She wanted and answer, and NOW!
"This is a yes," he agreed, punctuating his words with the gentlest kiss she'd ever known.
"Oh... Rupert..." she murmured against his lips, making him smile.
"I do love how you say my name, dearest. I'll like it even more when there are vows involved." He dipped his head and kissed her mouth with more assertiveness, and she melted against him, whimpering.
"Oh, hey, Buffy, I've been invited to dinner by Anthony and his Watcher buddies, but I wanted to ask you first..." Dawn stopped mid-sentence as she realized what was going on. You couldn't slip a credit card between her sister and Giles. "Okay, the smoochie train has left the station already. Can't you guys give it a break? There are young, delicate eyes, and more importantly, ears, around."
"Shut up, Dawn," Buffy said dreamily. "We just got engaged."
Dawn's shriek echoed all the way down the massive hall. "Oh, wow! Engaged? Officially and everything? So, let me see the ring!"
Buffy's face fell. Giles watched her with amusement.
"C'mon, Buffy. Where is it?" Dawn picked up her hand, frowning. "There's no ring."
Buffy sighed unhappily. "I don't have one. See, I asked him, and because I don't have any English money yet, I couldn't buy a ring without using his money to buy it with, which would be so tacky. So... no ring." She snorted, pulling away from him and folding her arms. "Stupid old me. Can't even propose properly."
"I'm very glad you didn't buy a ring, love," Giles said kindly.
"No, I should have waited until I was financially solvent. I'm too impatient. You're always telling me that. See, I could've put it on your finger, kind of symbolically, because I know guys don't wear an engagement ring, unless it's a British thing I don't know about..."
"Buffy." His voice stopped her rambling. He reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out the worn, black velvet jewelry box he'd retrieved from his desk drawer. "You needn't buy anything."
"Oh..."
He snapped the case open and held it up for her to see.
"Oh... God... Giles... Rupert..." She reached out to touch it. The ring had to be at least two carats. A large marquise diamond solitaire took pride of place, with smaller, brilliant cut diamonds along the ring guard adding their fire to the set. Smaller emeralds filled in between them, glowing in the artificial light in the room.
He slid the ring away from its wedding band, taking her shaking hand and sliding it into place.
"A perfect fit," he said with relief. "My memory of your ring size still holds."
"See, Dawn," Buffy said tearfully, holding out her hand. "Here's my ring, right here."
Dawn inspected the ring, bouncing with excitement. "That is the hugest engagement ring I've ever seen in my life!"
"It's also the bestest," Buffy said happily, leaning up for a quick kiss that turned into several more. Giles immediately gave up the idea of commenting on the girls' abuse of grammar, and soon forgot Dawn was even in the room. She watched them for a moment and then decided the smoochies were getting out of hand. She grabbed her jacket, waved to Buffy's back, and left, closing the door behind her.
"Wot did your sister say?" Anthony asked, much more relaxed in Dawn's presence than he had been in Giles'.
"She's cool with it. She's too busy kissing her new fiancé to worry about li'l ol' me."
"Fiancé? The Chairman? And the Slayer?" He goggled at her, disbelieving.
"He's just plain ol' Giles to us," she reminded him. "And he loves her to pieces."
"But... she's so much younger!"
"Age doesn't matter when the heart is involved," Dawn said wisely. He had no idea how young she really was, so she was hoping that wisdom would hold in her case as well. "So... are we going?"
He shook himself out of his surprise. "Yes, of course. We'll meet up with Agnes and Charles on the way. The rest will join us later."
"Coolest." He gestured for her to precede him, and she gave him a dazzling smile. As they walked, she could tell he was still turning over the idea of Giles and Buffy in his mind.
Finally, he blurted, "Dear God, I hope he gives pointers. Besides yourself, your sister is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
'Besides myself?' Dawn thought giddily. "Don't worry, Anthony, I think you're making points just fine on your own."
She favored him with her brightest smile, and he returned it with relief.
As they disappeared around the corner, Dawn couldn't resist saying, "I have a feeling we're gonna love England."
The End