Chapter 4: Tommy
Buffy woke from a deep sleep with an uncomfortably full bladder. Such were the joys of pregnancy, especially a second pregnancy. The rain beat hard against the window panes and, reaching across the bed, she found herself alone and a little confused. She was certain Giles had been comforting her before she drifted off to sleep. Perhaps he'd gotten up to take more pain meds? Lord knew he had to be hurting with all the trauma his body had taken as a result of falling off the roof and bouncing himself off the ground.
Having taken care of her immediate need, she went looking for him and found him tossing and turning on the sofa in the lounge. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and whispered, "Hey, Giles."
He turned his head to look at her before awkwardly rolling himself back onto his side to face her. "What time is it?"
"Two in the morning. You okay?"
"Never better," he grimaced, trying to ignore the pain in his wrist and gash along the side of his head. Finding a comfortable position to sleep was next to impossible.
Of course she knew better. No amount of head injuries could ever put a dent in Giles' ability to use and abuse sarcasm. "When was the last time you took your meds?"
"With dinner."
"You're way overdue," Buffy replied. "We need to make sure you stay on schedule." When he moved to get up, she bid him to stay and went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and his pills. Upon her return, she found him sitting up and he gratefully took the glass and the medicine from her. She took the seat next to him on the sofa.
"Thank you," he stated quietly. "What are you doing up?"
"Call of nature," she replied. "That and I got lonely." She gave him a shy smile.
"Nothing says you have to stay here, Buffy. I'll be fine on my own. I can stay on top of my meds."
"We've been over this, Giles…" She let out an exasperated sigh and leaned back against the cushions.
"I suppose we have," he relented and placed the glass down on the coffee table before settling himself back against the cushions and turning to look at her. "Perhaps Willow or Xander could come out and take a shift or two. It shouldn't be all on you."
"They are busy at the moment," she answered with finality. "So you are stuck with me."
Giles closed his eyes. The heavy rain pelting the glass had a hypnotic effect on him as the pain pills kicked into effect and the grogginess started to set in.
"Feeling some relief?" Buffy asked.
"Mercifully," he answered as his body relaxed.
She stood up and took his left hand in hers. "Then let's get you back to bed, Mister. "
"Buffy, there is only the one bed and I cannot take it from you," Giles said, allowing himself to be pulled into an upright position, but refusing to stand up.
"Sure you can. You are injured and you can't heal on a sofa that is too short for you to stretch out on and isn't wide enough to properly turn on."
He opened his eyes and blinked, sure the light was playing tricks on him as his mind tried to make sense of the slight swell of her stomach beneath the singlet she'd worn to bed. He hadn't noticed it before since she was wearing a baggy flannel shirt she hadn't bothered to tuck in.
"No… no… I insist on you having the bed," he urged unable to take his eyes off her profile.
"Giles-"
"Buffy, you are… you are with child. You need your rest and-" he stopped his protesting, his eyes solely on hers now. "You're pregnant," he stated in amazement, a small smile curving up at the corner of his mouth. He instinctively reached out to place his palm against her belly, but flinched back with a sense of propriety.
Another milestone for his remarkable Slayer.
"Yeah," she answered softly, a serene smile gracing her lips. "Baby number two. You can touch if you want."
"Two?" He asked, his face open with wonder as he allowed himself to place a shaky hand on her tummy. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the miracle and wonder that she'd overcome the challenges of her calling to create that normal life she had always wanted. He was so proud of her, he thought his chest might burst.
"Tommy." Her face beamed when she said his name. She looked positively radiant. "He turned three last month."
"Tommy," Giles whispered, trying to fathom the incredible changes that happened over the last six years.
"Yeah, quite the little firecracker."
"Do you… do you have a photo?" He asked, leaning back against the sofa once more.
She smiled up at him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Yeah, let me get my phone. I have a great one I can show you on there. He was at daycare at the Council and I had gone down to get him so we could have lunch together. We stopped by your office on the way and well… I'll let the picture tell the rest of the story."
Giles shook his head as she stood to retrieve her phone. "There's a daycare in the Council buildings? Quentin must've gone soft and mad in his dotage."
"Quentin died late 2002," she answered when she returned. "The new Head of Council decided to set one up to make things easier on the younger generation, especially after I became pregnant with Tommy."
"Amazing!" he stated. "I see you have a good rapport with him or her."
"The best," she said with a wink before sitting down next to him again and searching the gallery for the photo she was looking for. "Ah-ha!" she exclaimed and passed the phone over to Giles.
He squinted down at the picture of the little blond boy with sylvan green eyes as he crawled over the large Vampyr tome that was sitting on his desk and barked out a laugh. "It looks as though you are raising a little Watcher there."
"He seems to think so."
"He's… he's perfect," he murmured, totally captivated as he studied the child as best he could with tired eyes. "He looks just like you, well, except for the nose."
"He's smart as a whip too," she boasted, not wanting to give too much away. "He can already read a little and he's a whiz at patterns and puzzles."
"Tommy," Giles repeated with reverence. "My father's name was Thomas."
"Yeah, you might've mentioned it before." Buffy watched Giles in profile as he stared down at the photo again and traced the little boy's cheek on the screen, hoping that maybe he would make the connection on his own.
He turned to look at her. "Of course, I must've done. I am sorry, this is very new for me," he apologized before handing back her phone.
It was hard trying to hide her disappointment, but she did her best by distracting herself and placing her phone in the pocket of her sweats. "I know, I'm sorry too. I didn't mean for that to come out… well, rude."
"It didn't. I just…" He stifled a yawn. "It's late, Buffy, and I find my eyes crossing and things slipping out of focus."
She stood and offered her hand again. "Come on, let's get to bed." He started to protest. "Uh uh! I am pulling rank as your w-… Slayer. We're sharing the bed. That sofa is good for sitting, not sleeping."
"What about your husband?" He asked half-heartedly as he stood, taking her hand.
"He trusts me," she said with a little smile. "Now move it!"
He did as he was commanded and she trailed behind him because he was doing his best drunk impression as he navigated the stairs. The last thing she needed was to take him back to the hospital with yet another head injury.
—
Buffy woke the following morning more than a little disappointed to not wake up in her husband's arms. He faced the window away from her and was still sound asleep according to his breathing pattern. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly rose and headed down to the kitchen to start breakfast. She would make sure to turn the kettle on when she could hear him stirring upstairs.
Giles woke to the smell of bacon and eggs and his stomach growled to protest its empty status. His body ached along with the expected pain in his head and wrist, and he longed to take a hot pulsating shower to ease his muscles. Unfortunately, he knew that wasn't something he could do at the moment with his head stitched together and the cast on his wrist. He did try to freshen up a bit in the bathroom when he spied the new soaking tub with the jets and sighed longingly. That would certainly help the sore muscles issue, however, his stomach rumbled and he decided his campaign to be breakfast first, then pain meds, then the bath.
He wasn't exactly graceful on the stairs, his heavy footfalls announcing his approach, and Buffy came out of the kitchen to greet him.
"Good morning."
He groaned in response.
"That good, huh?"
"I feel like hell," he muttered, gingerly gripping his side as he lowered himself onto a dining room chair.
Buffy couldn't help but noticed the similarity to his recovery after the beating he'd taken from Willow in the Magic Box all those years ago. Of course, to Giles, that incident hadn't happened yet, but he'd spent a week recuperating at her house before taking Willow back to England with him to see to her rehabilitation at the coven. It had been hard to watch him then, all bruised and battered and exhausted from the borrowed magicks. He'd been a terrible patient, but he certainly had been appreciative of her and Dawn's help. Now, however, the situation was worse.
"I bet. How about some tea and some food, followed by some meds?" she asked.
"Sounds marvellous."
Tea was Giles' cure for everything and he raised an appreciative eyebrow before taking the mug from her. He closed his eyes to the soothing elixir as it warmed his insides and by the time she brought in his plate of eggs and bacon and his course of medications, he had finished a third of the mug.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
Giving him a warm smile, Buffy changed the subject. "After you finish we should change the dressing on your head and then get you into that tub with the epsom salts. Are you okay for a few moments?" she asked, and when he nodded, she popped outside into the garden to fill the bird feeders that had been neglected for the better part of a fortnight since their last trip to the farmhouse.
Giles had found that the eggs were surprisingly good, although he shouldn't have been surprised. He'd helped her in expanding her cooking knowledge after her mother had died. Before she, herself, had died. Before Glory had taken her away from him. Before she came back and everything between them had fallen to shit and he was left with no other recourse than to leave… God, he wanted to stop this line of thinking, but his brain refused to stop running down that particular rabbit hole.
Trying to cut the thick bacon with his fork, Giles found it was too thick and he became increasingly frustrated before he threw down the utensil, dumped the remainder of his breakfast in the bin, and stalked back up the stairs.
—
Buffy found him in their bedroom trying to pull off his shirt in his irritation. "Everything okay?" she asked with a knock to the doorframe.
Giles jumped at her intrusion. "Is there no privacy around here?" he growled.
His reproach startled her and she backed up towards the doorframe. "Sorry," she stated. "When I came back in and didn't find you in the kitchen, I just worried-"
"Well, don't!" He yelled, finally able to yank his shirt off his frame, but the sleeve got stuck on his cast.
Buffy winced at the bruising on his chest and sides. "Let me draw you a bath."
"I can do it," he snapped through gritted teeth as he forcefully pried the shirt off around his cast.
"I know you can!" she shouted back. Schooling herself, she replied in a more civil manner, "But you don't have to." Brushing past him with a glare, Buffy went to prepare his bath. The sound of the water rushing into the tub and echoing through the bathroom helped to calm her down some. As long as she was able to do something, she could cope.
Giles stomped over to the bed and eased himself down. He hated being weak and injured. He was supposed to protect her, guide her. Being weak and injured prevented him from being his best for her. He'd always kept the severity of his injuries over the years from the gang. Oz had been the only one who really knew of his suffering at the hands of Angelus. Xander had rescued him, but Xander had a way of closing off the worst and avoiding the things he couldn't cope with. Giles supposed it had been the only way he'd dealt with his parents' alcoholism and abuse, but Oz had been able to see things in ways the others had not and, over that terrible summer, he'd been the one who would double back after dropping Willow and Xander off at their houses and help with the little things Giles had been unable to do himself.
Now it was Buffy tending to his needs.
He'd never wanted her to take care of him. It wasn't her job, nor was it her responsibility. She was the Slayer. Saving the world was far more pressing and he didn't need her distracted and fussing over a Watcher with a predilection for bumping his head. Of course, now she wasn't actively patrolling, but she was a mum to a little boy and another child on the way.
And really, she should be focussing on her family, not him. The fact that Tommy didn't have his mother about because of him, really didn't sit at all well with Giles. It started to bother him at a primal level, even though Buffy was adamant that everything was fine and that Tommy was enjoying time with Aunt Willow and Uncle Xander.
But what unsettled him more was that, underneath it all, he was jealous. Jealous of the fact that Buffy had a family and he was still seemingly single. Jealous that there was this beautiful little boy who clearly was her joy in life when he had given up on having a family of his own. He'd pledged his life to 'his Slayer' upon his finishing his studies at the Academy and again once she'd been identified. It wasn't required of Watchers, but it was something he felt he had to do. His notion that he was her champion, that he would do anything to protect her, drove him to expect more from himself. It was his promise to her when she'd been Called that he would see to it that she lived longer than the others before her and he knew he couldn't do that if he belonged to another, if his attentions lay elsewhere. Of course there had been the occasional distraction: Jenny, Olivia, and Kristen when he'd returned to Bath the first time. But in the end, he was devoted to Buffy. She always came first.
And so he couldn't help but feel some dark, conflicted betrayal, that she had moved on from their Calling and he was now relegated to bachelor friend and possibly distant uncle to her children.
And yet, he'd always wanted her to have that normal life. He'd always wanted her to be happy. And here she was, positively radiant. He shouldn't be having these sorts of thoughts. Letting out a heavy sigh, Giles looked out the window while he waited for the bath to fill. He had no right to be jealous. Buffy had never made such a pledge and he'd never required one of her. All he'd ever asked of her was to do her duty to the best of her ability and she'd always done that in spades.
He heard the water shut off.
"It's ready for you. If you need anything…" Buffy said as came out of the bathroom without looking at him.
"I'll shout," he answered softly, his voice penitent.
She heard the change in his tone but couldn't deal with his mood swings at the moment. "You can turn on the jets with a touch of the button near the faucet. There are two settings. I suggest the first one until those bruises heal," she stated still without looking at him as she moved to the bedroom door.
"Right," he replied as he stood up and lumbered into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Buffy quickly made her way down the stairs, out the door, into the refuge of the garden, disturbing a silver tabby cat who sat on the patio table watching the birds at the feeder. It gave her a disgruntled glare before jumping down and making its escape into the garden. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Buffy sat down in a chair and tried to put the the incident with Giles behind her.