Chapter 10: Revelations

After taking a leisurely turn around the expansive property, Giles returned to the house and found Buffy eating breakfast in the kitchen, drinking a mug of ginger herbal tea. "Good morning," he greeted.

"Good morning," she answered with a soft smile. "The water is still hot in the kettle."

"Thank you. Sleep well?"

"Better than the last few days," she answered before taking a sip of the brew. "You?"

He took a mug from the cupboard and stuck a teabag in it. "Not really," he admitted. "Interesting dreams. When I woke up, I decided to go for a walk. I'd forgotten how beautiful the sunrises are here."

"The sunsets are spectacular too," Buffy replied.

"They are," he agreed congenially.

"You want to talk about your dreams?"

"Not specifically," he answered. His tea made, he sat down at the table beside her. "I think my brain is trying to put together the pieces of information it's been given and is trying to force them together into a narrative that only Morpheus could weave."

"Well, if you ever need me to kick some Greek god butt, I'm your girl," she offered with a teasing smile.

His girl. If only…

He gave her an half-hearted smile. "Thank you. I imagine it will be this way until my brain is able to recall those memories and put things in their proper place."

The knock at the door had them looking at each other quizzically.

"Huh, I think the delivery guys are early," she said looking at the clock on the microwave.

"Take some time to relax," he said getting up from the table. "I'll supervise the workers."

Giles showed the delivery men up to Tommy's room and oversaw the building of the castle bunk bed. It took about an hour and he was happy to shoot the breeze and assist where he could, his mind distracted from from his concerns until one of the men conversationally asked Giles whether the bed was a surprise or whether his son had picked it out.

The question affected him in ways he didn't really want to acknowledge. There was a giant ache in his heart at the mention of 'his son,' but he tried to push it from his mind and respond to the question. Giles didn't know the answer, so he opted for it being Tommy's choice, to which the man went on and on about how much Giles' little boy was going to love his new bed. Then he mentioned that he was a father of two little ones, a baby and a two year old, and wasn't fatherhood the greatest job in the world? Giles resisted the urge to punch him. It was just simpler and more civilized to agree and change the subject.

When the delivery men were finally finished, he went over to the bunk bed and inspected the work. Running his good hand along the top rail, Giles smiled. He would've loved something like this as a child. When he was young, he had made forts out of blankets and pillows in which to read and hide from the world, some of which had been pretty elaborate, and those had done the job, but something like this? Instinctively, he knew Tommy was going to love it!

After testing the joints and climbing the ladder to the top to determine its sturdiness, Giles was satisfied that the structure was indeed safe enough for Buffy's little boy. He then thanked the delivery guys, showed them out the door, and went in search of Buffy to show her the amazing castle bunk bed. When he finally found her, she was outside talking on her mobile phone.

"Yes, thank you for calling me back. You do have space? That's great!" Buffy held the phone to her ear and leaned over to pluck a weed from a flower pot on the patio. "Sure, his first name is Thomas. Middle is Everett. Yes, same last name. March 7th, 2005. Right… just turned 3 last month. We're looking for three days a week. Just mornings, thanks…"

Thomas Everett. Giles quickly stepped back into the house, the name triggering an extreme emotional response in his psyche and he needed a moment to puzzle it out. Thomas… Everett. Suddenly his eyes went wide with recognition and he found he desperately needed answers.

When Buffy entered the house, she could feel the tension coming off him as he paced the room. "Hey, everything okay?" she called.

Covering the distance between them in a couple of bounds, Giles' grey-green eyes were wide and pleading. "What is your husband's name?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is his name also Thomas?"

Buffy's brows knotted in confusion and she tilted her head before responding. "Uh… no, why?"

"I need to know. You never talk about him… your husband."

"We do. You keep bringing him up, especially when you are angry. What gives?"

"I bring him up and you evade," Giles snapped.

"What is this about?" she asked, lowering her voice and taking a step back to give him some space. "You are all agitated."

"Tommy," he stated matter-of-factly, as if she could read his mind.

"Tommy?"

"I heard you out there! Thomas Everett. Everett is your mother's maiden name - I don't know how many times I wrote it out on all those forms after she passed… a-and, and Thomas… is my father's name. I hardly think it's coincidence. Tell me… please." His voice cracked at the request as he begged her to confirm his suspicions.

She looked up at him and nodded, tears welling in her overly bright, green eyes.

Giles tightly closed his eyes, willing himself to believe, because anything else just didn't make sense, and yet, on the surface, neither did this, but it was all he could come up with to explain the emotions he'd been dealing with the last few days. "He's… ours?" He asked, opening them again, his voice barely rising above a whisper.

"Yes," she breathed, taking a few steps closer and bridging the gap between them. "And this one too," she stated gently as she took his hand and placed it firmly on her belly.

His breathing shallow, Giles' questioning gaze searched hers for the final answer to the riddle. "And we are…"

Buffy bit her lip. She had no idea how he would react, but he'd asked a direct question and she wouldn't evade, she wouldn't answer any other way. "Married," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. She couldn't decipher the look on his face: he'd closed his eyes again, his brow furrowed as myriads of emotions washed over him. "But Giles," she was quick to continue, the tears finally falling from her lashes, "not… not because we have to be… not because of some sense of duty or loyalty… or because I am not in a healthy place…"

He opened his eyes and watched her fumble as the fear rose in those expressive, watery, sylvan depths and he quickly took her hand in his. "I know," he replied tenderly, trying to allay her worries. "I know."

"You remember?"

Shaking his head, Giles answered, "Not… specifics. Only… feelings, if that makes sense. I know I love you, Buffy, that somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. I can feel it. It's here…" He let go of her hand and pointed to his heart. "And here," he said again, tapping his finger against his temple. "And, Buffy, I know your strength. I can see it and have experienced it these past few days. I am so, so, so sorry for ever letting you believe otherwise, for not being there when you needed me most. I just didn't know how…"

She placed her index finger over his lips. "Shhhhh. Just… just hold me? Please?"

He gently folded her into his arms and held her as she wept against his chest, unleashing a tide of emotion, her hold on him almost crushing. He held her just as tightly, his left hand cradling her neck while he soothingly stroked his thumb just below her ear. When her crying subsided, he led her to the couch where they sat together, their knees touching, and he handed her his handkerchief.

"I must look a mess," she said with an embarrassed half laugh.

"No… a little waterlogged maybe," he replied as he took the liberty to tuck a stray blonde lock behind her ear so he could see her better.

"Are you angry with me?"

"Am I… angry with you? Dear lord, Buffy, whatever for?" he asked, his face a mask of confusion.

"I just thought… you know, I…" she stopped herself. "You've just been so… cross with me."

He chuckled at her use of the more British turn of phrase. The Buffy he remembered would've used the term pissed. Cupping her cheek tenderly, he said, "I am sorry I gave you that impression. I've been cross at the situation. Not knowing… anything of the last six years. Not knowing why you are here with me and not with your… our son."

Buffy leaned into his touch. It was a salve for all the hurt they'd gone through over the week. "I probably should've told you at the hospital. I just thought… I mean, we just weren't in a position to think about one another in these terms all those years ago… where your memories stop. And then there's Tommy… he wouldn't have understood…"

"No, he wouldn't have," he agreed. "And to be honest, I am not sure I was in any state of mind to hear it. Besides, Dr Gibson wanted me to remember on my own - not that I have…" He took in a deep breath. "I wish I could remember."

"You will," she said her eyes searching his, willing him to believe it, mostly because she needed him to believe it for her. "But, you needed to know. I needed you to know. That's why I got the diaries… because you need something to trigger your memory, and I… we… can't stay away from Tommy much longer. He needs us, Giles." A tear dropped from Buffy's lashes and she dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief again.

"We have to do what is best for us, Buffy… for our family," Giles told her with conviction. He'd never been quite comfortable with her being away from her… no, their son; and the estrangement she'd dealt with, along with tending to his needs, had placed her in a very difficult position, and he wanted to make it up to her. "We don't have the luxury of waiting on my memories. They'll come when they do."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hitching in her throat. "Thank you for understanding."

"He's my son, too, Buffy, I want to do everything right by him… and by you." He looked down at his hands in a mild confession. "I think part of me knew it all along. I just felt… connected to him. Even before I figured out I was in love with you, I needed to fight for him, advocate for him."

"You're the perfect dad, Giles. I love watching you with him and he just adores you." He gave her that adorable shy smile she'd always loved so much, the same smile Tommy gave her now when she praised him, and she leaned in to hug him again. "This okay?" she asked, keeping in mind his understanding and his emotions.

"More than," he replied, hugging her close.

"I saw him yesterday… Tommy," she confessed, not sure how he'd take the news. "I met Willow in the park to pick up the diaries and she brought him with her."

"How was he?" he asked neutrally as he soothingly stroked her hair.

Buffy sighed. "He's so amazing, Giles. He understands you are hurt and he's worried about you, but he misses us and wants us to come home."

"Nothing says we have to stay here. Let's go home, Buffy, to our son."

—

They'd agreed that they would leave for their London home first thing the following morning, allowing Giles a little more time to get more acquainted with his new life as he skimmed through the accounts of their lives. About an hour before sunset, Buffy woke from her nap on the couch, needing a snack and to stretch her legs. She quietly got up so as not to disturb her husband who looked thoroughly engrossed in his reading and headed to the kitchen before returning to the lounge with a container of yoghurt, flopping back down on the sofa with one leg tucked under her.

Giles looked up from his reading at the noise, an adorable blush painting his neck and cheeks.

"I take it you just found the entry about us getting together?" she asked, the tone of her voice a tad too innocent.

"Yes…" Giles said, shifting a little in his chair. "Seems I was rather… descriptive about it."

"Well, it was rather amazing… and significant. I would've been insulted had you not given it its due." Buffy winked at him and dipped her spoon back into the yoghurt.

He gave her that incredibly adorable, shy smile and set the book down. "Right! That's enough for now, I should think," he said, standing up and stretching his long frame.

"Wanna go for a walk? We can catch the sunset."

"That would be nice. Feeling antsy?"

"You know how it is… Slayer energy. Plus I had a pretty long nap."

"You still… even with…" He wasn't exactly sure how to phrase things. She'd always gotten an extra shot of energy just before nightfall, that was the Slayer in her getting ready for the fight. Six years and thousands of Slayers activated from her Slayer magicks, and the fact that she was now pregnant, he just didn't expect that nervous energy to still be a factor.

"Yeah. I was more tired in the first trimester. Same for when I was pregnant with Tommy, but things sort of returned to normal in that department in the second, in fact I usually have more energy. Now, the third trimester… boy that was a whole nother story. That's when I thought the extra Slayer energy would help out, but no. I am sure it will be a whole bundle of fun when I hit that stage and am chasing after Tommy. Thankfully he will be in nursery school for a few hours every other day. At least I will be able to nap."

Giles had his Watcher face on. "I suppose all these observations have been written down for… reference purposes?"

Buffy laughed and got up from the sofa. "Oh yes. You pretty much documented everything… and came very close to being beaten about the head and shoulders with your diary several times for it. Oh, and I edited out the personal stuff before you submitted it to the Council librarian," she said, heading back to the kitchen where she rinsed out her yoghurt container and tossed it in the recycling bin. "Just can't take the Watcher out of the boy."

"No, no, I suppose not," he answered. "Are you ready to go? It's not getting any earlier out there!"

"Hold your ponies! I'll be ready in a minute!" she called back, enjoying the teasing banter between them. "I may be a Slayer, but I still need shoes!"

"Make sure they are something appropriate for walking the fields!" he called back. "Form over fashion!"

—

His previous rambles along the property over the last several days had done Giles some good. His muscles were less sore and he was able to walk at a pace that would help rid Buffy of some of that extra energy. After a good walk, they stopped along the western fence line to watch the sunset. The sky already burned bright with oranges and pinks and purples despite the sun still remaining rather high in the horizon.

"It's beautiful," he commented with a sigh.

"It is," Buffy agreed as Giles leaned forward and rested his forearms on the fence. "How are you holding up?"

"How so?" he asked.

"Well, you've just covered two very significant years of our history."

"Ah," he responded, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "It's not easy to process. In a way part of it is like reading a history book, I am disconnected from the events. And some of it is… utterly devastating. The Council… colleagues, friends, rivals, a few cousins. Of course we also lost Anya and Tara… and Spike, all whom you told me about before, but without the detail." He shook his head and inhaled deeply, the smell of the grasses fresh with the evening dew invading his senses. It was an extremely comforting smell that never failed to conjure up early childhood memories of playing in the fields. "It's…"

Buffy reached out and took his left hand in hers, squeezing it in sympathy. "It's okay, I am here."

"I know and I appreciate it," he said, returning the squeeze. "It's just a lot to take in."

"It is," she agreed. She looked down at their hands and asked, "Are we okay? I mean, I know us being married is a bit of a leap from where we were when your memories stop, but you've probably just read the worst about me-"

"Please!" Giles interrupted and when she looked up at him he softened his tone. "Please… don't," he entreated, not wanting her to berate herself further. "I carry my fair share of horrible moments during that time. Let's leave Sunnydale where it lies: buried in a crater some five and a half thousand miles across the globe from us."

"Oh, thank god!" Buffy declared, the look of relief on her face almost breaking his heart.

"Come here," he invited softly as he let go of her hand and opened his arms to her. She stepped into his embrace and hugged him to her tightly, perhaps a bit too tightly.

"Buffy… the bruises," he breathed.

"Sorry," she mumbled into his chest as she relieved some of the pressure, yet unwilling to let go.

They stood there quietly holding one another, watching the colors play across the sky until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. It was easier now, as he had some gaps filled in his lost past, and of course there was still more to read in the diaries - another four years to catch up on, but he was so much more at ease with his emotions now that he understood where they had come from.

"We're going to lose the residual light soon," he whispered, so as not to disturb the moment.

"Just a few more moments," she whispered back as she looked up at him. "I'm not ready to give this up just yet."

He affectionately trailed the back of his fingers down cheek. "Nor am I," he murmured, his voice half an octave lower than usual. "You are an amazing woman, Buffy. I am the luckiest man alive to be able share your life with you. Thank you."

Her eyes searched his and she could see the depth of his emotions radiating from within. "I love you so much," she breathed.

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers and found that one touch was not enough and took her lips in a tender salute. It felt like home, holding her in his arms and kissing her. When it ended, Buffy sighed and placed her forehead against his chest, over his heart and he held her close, not wanting to let her go.

"I miss you," she said, her voice shaky.

"I am sorry, I am trying to remember. I promise."

"I know you are," Buffy answered as she hugged him a little harder. "I guess we should head back," she said regretfully as she moved out from his embrace.

"Only if we want to make it back without breaking our ankles in a rabbit warren," he joked to lighten the mood.

"Not gonna happen." She took his hand and started leading him back to the farmhouse. He looked at her with amusement. "Slayer night vision," she explained.

"That's all well and good for you," he grumbled good-naturedly. "But I am a mere man, who, as you can see, breaks rather easily."

Buffy let out a guffaw. "No evil underground bunny lairs are going to take down my man!"

He let out a hearty laugh. Her man. Yes, Giles supposed he was, memories or no, and even during the darker times. Always had been really, first as her Watcher, then as her friend and partner, and now as her husband - the idea of which made his heart do funny things within his chest. Letting go of her hand, he placed his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, feeling at peace when she wrapped her arm around his waist.