For three days she had filled his kitchen with food, bag after endless bag of it. Last night she had camped on his couch, so she could get an early start cooking the meal. He grimaced as she checked on the turkey yet again. He had thought having her here would be a good idea, but resonance aside, there was something wrong with his slayer. She was distracted and far too fixated on the coming meal. He watched her as she rubbed her lower back for the twelfth time in an hour. He examined her as she moved about, shifting the three types of pie to his counter to cool.
"Why on earth do we need three types of pie, Buffy? There will only be five of us at the table."
"It's Thanksgiving, Giles. It's our, I mean my first Thanksgiving kind of. Besides, Xander loves pie." She looked up at him as she shoved some vegetable casserole into the oven with the turkey. "Can you just deal?"
"Deal with what precisely? The over abundance of food in my home or the attacking Indian spirit?" He watched her hands twist in the kitchen towel.
"Native American, Giles. You'll drive Willow round the bend if you keep calling him that." Buffy smiled at him.
"It doesn't bother you?" He smiled as Buffy came out of the kitchen and stared up at him for a moment. The world seemed to hum as he reached out and grabbed her fingers.
"I think it's cute." She stroked her hand over his chest. He saw her blush and step back. "You had crumbs. Stop eating my dinner rolls."
He let her back away and wandered back to the books. She could concern herself with the cooking, but he had to find the answers. He hoped there would be some way to appease the spirit and relieve his slayer of the guilt she felt in doing her duty. Willow's adamant defense of the vengeance spirit had left them all in difficult straits. There were times when seeing the grays that existed in their world was a curse. Buffy needed peace. Her frenetic devotion to their meal was proof of that.
His eyes drifted toward the kitchen as she hummed and puttered about. If he was the patriarch of their little unit, then she was the matriarch. He forced his eyes away from her as his mind took him to places best left alone.
"They should be back by now. Everything is ready. I told them one hour." Buffy walked toward the front door. "I'm gonna take a look and see if they're close by."
She stepped out into the courtyard and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Giles watched as she bent to smell the flowers and he stood and walked to the doorway. She was beyond beautiful.
When the arrow flew by and imbedded itself in the wall he felt a moment of panic. He scanned the area, spotting the natives positioned around the courtyard. They stood with bows at the ready. He saw the one draw back his bowstring and train his stone tipped arrow on Buffy.
Buffy had no way to fight against arrow wielding spirits. She moved faster than his eyes could track, avoiding each shaft as it whizzed past her.
Fear held him hostage. He stood unmoving as the volley of arrows rained down on her. Rage filled him. She wouldn't die like this. He flung his magic out and the arrows fell uselessly to the ground. He held off volley after volley. His magic surged.
Buffy gasped, her motion slowing and fell to her knees. She dropped forward and supported her body on one hand.
His world ceased, each breath an agony. He looked for the bloom of blood on her.
Their bond flared within him, firey and strong, as she grabbed his power and flung it at the one stalking toward her. He managed to stay on his feet by leaning against the door frame. She rose in a fluid movement and he felt her gathering power from the flowers and from him.
Awe held him silent as she shielded them from their attackers. How? His mind whirled.
"I'm sorry that your people were hurt." Her voice rang out in the courtyard. "It doesn't have to be this way. Things are different now."
"You fight me still." The spirit pushed through the sheild and rushed her. She used his speed to toss him for distance. His knife flew free and skittered across the ground. She grabbed it.
"I just want to have a nice dinner with my family, but you have to go all murdery and vengeance making." She stalked toward him as the other spirits tried to break through the shield she had erected. Giles slid down the door frame and watched as she stabbed the spirit with his own knife. He collapsed and she moved away, dropping the knife. "I'm sorry."
Green mist swirled around and suddenly a bear roared and lunged at Buffy.
"Now you're a bear." Buffy backed away from the towering black figure as it swiped at her with its giant paw. "Why are you a bear? That's cheating."
Buffy was looking for the weapon. He could feel the magic she had worked falter. The knife was too far from her.
Giles used every last bit of his power to levitate the damn knife and drive it into the bear. The world faded away, lost he fell straight onto his walk.
The sounds of china being set on the table woke him and he looked up to see Buffy's smile. He looked at her sitting there as the others set the table. It had to be driving her crazy, but she had stayed with him. He looked at her bandaged arm and raised a brow.
"Bear claw, but you're not perfect either mister. You fought the walk and the walk won." She touched his forehead gently. Her lips pursed and he enjoyed her suppressed mirth. "We still make a pretty good team."
"Yes, we do." He said, finding the soft expression on her face entirely too enrapturing.
"Dinner's ready. Is the patriarch?" She smiled shyly.
"I am." Answers would wait. They needed to celebrate the victory of survival. He clasped her proffered hand and managed to stand and walk to the table without ever letting it go.
"I hope you all like the meal." Buffy said as he settled into his seat and relinquished her hand.
"I don't see why you had to kill him," Willow whined.
"I tried talking to him, but he was created for one purpose and he wanted to fulfill it." Buffy said softly.
"You should have tried harder." Willow crossed her arms over her chest. "You know how awful it was for the Chumash."
"Should she have let him remove her ear and slit her throat?" Giles asked. "Would that have gained him justice?"
"No, but the answer always seems to be killing. Doesn't that bother you?" Willow looked around the table with wide unhappy eyes.
"There isn't much negotiating in the demon world." Anya shrugged.
"I'm just happy the syphilis is clearing up." Xander said without looking up from his plate.
"I didn't hunt him down, Willow. He came after me." Buffy sighed and put her fork down. "I'm sorry he wouldn't stop and listen. I didn't want to kill him."
Giles watched as Willow's jaw firmed. She was just warming to her topic. He closed his eyes, and prayed for restraint.
"When you didn't want to kill Angelus, you managed to avoid it, and poor Miss Calendar died." Willow said. The words hung in the air for a moment as everyone froze. Buffy was up and out the door before he could figure out what to say. His gaze narrowed as the door slammed and Willow crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.
"She has saved you all time and again, and this is how you thank her, Willow. You attack her at her own table." Giles stood and shoved his chair back. "This meal meant something to her. It was special. Did you consider her feelings for one moment?"
"Did she consider mine? She knew I didn't want to celebrate this holiday." Willow glared at him.
"Is fighting a part of this ritual sacrifice?" Anya asked as she watched them with interest.
"It always was in my house." Xander replied as he scooped a huge portion of the casserole on to his plate.
"You chose to attend, Willow. Perhaps you should have declined since you find this holiday so distasteful." Giles glared at her unrepentant face.
"But then I would have been alone." Willow looked down at her plate.
Giles tossed his napkin on the table and stood. Buffy had fled her feast. He fought the urge to kick the others out. It would make no difference. Buffy deserved to have this little bit of comfort, but there would be no catching her. He looked out into the night and hoped she would return.