It was a cold, blustery evening, the kind more common on the streets of London than of downtown Los Angeles. Standing in a queue that was at least a mile long -Giles wouldn't be surprised if someone got out a tape measure and actually checked- the former Watcher stood beside Buffy as they waited for the ice show. A part of him couldn't quiet believe he was here, with her. Admittedly, when she'd brought it up that terrible night, he had desperately wanted to, to show her that he loved her, that he cared about her and was worth everything in the world, no matter if her father had time for her or not. Then, of course, he'd lost her trust. He'd gone to her house to make sure she was recouperating as she should after the Cruciamentum when he noticed the flowers and tickets thrown in the bin, likely courtesy of Buffy. And in the hopes of once again becoming the man she'd so dearly trusted, wanting to spend time together outside of demons and vampires, he'd asked her if she still wanted to go. With him. She'd said yes.

So, it had been a road trip in his little beat-up car, her picking the music while he grumbled good-naturedly. Rupert had wished, in that moment, sincerely wished that he'd spent more time with her over the last two and a half years, just enjoying the other's company. He knew that teenagers didn't like adults 'cramping their style' or whatever, but it felt nice to do something together. He'd even forked out for a programme and a few posters and other skating memorabilia as they wended their way through the crowded entrance, dodging small children in bright skirts, laughing in excitement. And it had hurt, to see them and know that Buffy had once been like that, so light and carefree. Of course, it wasn't just the Slaying that had made her grow up so fast -divorce is never easy, no matter the age- but it was of course the main factor. Hopefully, he could give some of that normality back to her, even if it was only for a night.

"This is so cool!" Buffy exclaimed as they took their seats, Giles trying to work some of the warmth back into his hands as he nodded. When she began pointing out all the different skaters she knew about, he tried to keep up but became desperately lost after about three minutes. Trust Buffy to remember the career of a skater who hadn't performed since 1995 but not the way to kill a Mohra demon. Not that he minded: that was what he was there for. Or was. As the two sat there that very moment, the Council was likely finalizing their lastest candidate, readying him for his trip to Sunnydale. At least he'd be in for a rude awakening when he met not only Buffy, but Faith as well. Orders were not on the approved list of Slayer tolerances. That, and pizza with olives.

"Oh, I remember seeing her the last time I was here," Buffy said, pointing to a skater in particular. "She was one of my favourites. She had this really difficult spin that was like a signature of her routine and one year she slipped really badly. I was about six or seven, and I remember sitting there, gripping the edge of my seat, holding my breath, and then...she got back up. She finished her entire routine and then had to take some time off afterwards, but I remember thinking how amazing that was, to see someone get back up after falling down, in public, even though it probably really hurt."

Giles couldn't help but smile. "Reminds me of someone I know."

Buffy shook her head, trying not to look pleased, but the Brit still caught the faintest blush on her cheeks.

They watched the rest of the show, filling the companionable silence with quiet chatter, Buffy pointing out different spins and twirls here and there, Giles adding his own comments on the various displays of talent. While it may not have been a typical way to spend his weekend -books, tea, maybe some music, and more books- it felt exciting to get out of Sunnydale for a little while, freeing to be away from the Hellmouth and all that it entailed. Rupert just wished it could have been brought about by different circumstances and not the damaging of the most important relationship in his life.

And mo, the irony had not been lost on him, the fact that he'd taken Buffy to an ice skating show to thaw the ice in their relationship. But at least the hot chocolate came with marshmallows.

As the current skater walked off after her performance, Buffy looked up at him for a moment, her gaze darting back to the empty cup of hot chocolate still in her hand. "Thank you, for this. I'm still hurt, but thank you."

He deserved her betrayal, how every ounce of her hurt made him ache all the more. Unable to form the words -and unsure if there was any that would even help- Giles gave her a simple nod. When the show finished, they began the arduous trek out of the stadium, passing tired children and even more exhausted parents. The night air was brisk and cold as they walked across the broad expanse of the car park, the occasional flash of headlights illuminating the way. The former Watcher was in the process of extracting his keys from his jacket when a passing blur caught his attention.

"Giles?" Buffy snapped her fingers. "Earth to Giles? Did your brain finally implode from too much book-reading?"

Rupert shook himself. "Very funny. No, I thought I saw something..." he trailed off, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

Buffy arched an eyebrow. She really was getting too good at that. "Our kind of 'something'?" she inquired, head tilting slightly, as if she was listening out for sounds he couldn't hear, because she likely was.

"I'm not sure. It was probably nothing," Giles tried to brush it off, although he didn't know who he was trying to convince, her or himself. "Come on, I better get you home. I don't want your mother coming after me when you wake up late for school in the morning."

"Hey, I can't help the fact that my Slayer sleep schedule is more needy than other teenagers'. A well-rested Slayer is a productive Slayer, and unproductive student by proxy," Buffy said as she got into the passenger seat and cranked up the heater, sighing as a blast of warm air enveloped the car.

Finally extracting his keys, Giles started the car. "Hopefully your new Watcher will at least try to be sympathetic to your unique situation," Rupert acknowledged as he pulled out onto the highway.

"I don't have a new Watcher," Buffy murmured as she lent her head against the window and watched the night go by.

Not long after that, Giles' metal death-trap of a car came to a stop. Luckily, he was able to drive it onto the shoulder of the road, the wheels landing on the pavement that ran parallel with an area of dense trees. Since it was January, there was no leaves, only withered branches that seemed to be clawing towards Buffy as she leaned half-in half-out of the car while Giles crouched by the trunk, the part Brits called 'the boot,' for whatever reason. Dusting his hands off on his trousers, hus fingers leaving chalky white trails that seemed to glow in the little evening light, he declared without ceremony, "Someone's cut the fuel line."

Buffy frowned. "And for those of us that don't speak Car, this is...bad?"

Giles roller his eyes in contempt.

The Slayer raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, even I know cars need fuel, same as toy monkeys and rockets. So, how do we fix it?"

"Are you really telling me that you're willing to get on your hands and knees under the car, in the dark, with petrol dripping everywhere, and repair it?" Giles said, a sarcastic bite edging his words.

Her face crinkled in avid disgust. "Okay, rephrase: How are you going to fix it?"

"Now that's more like what I was expecting." He blew out a long sigh, leaving a trail of breath clouding in the air. It reminded her too much of his smoking 'Band Candy' phase and she shuddered internally at the memory.

"There isn't anything I can do," Giles admitted, defeated. "It's not like I carry around car-repair tools about me all hours of the day."

"No, you're more likely to have a forgotten Shakespeare manuscript or demon tome or a loose tea bag than a wrench, it's true," she said with a faint smile.

Her former Watcher lent against the car, arms folding across his chest. "I'm glad to see you can find humour in our current situation. Buffy, we're stuck here. Even if I did call a repairman, there's no telling how long we could be out here or how long they'd take. It's," he consulted his watch, "10:32 at night on a Sunday. You have to be at school in under ten hours as do I, unless Principal Snyder decides now is the time to finally get rid of me as he has so itched to do these past two years." He looked sad at the thought. The Sunnydale High Library was home to him, and she couldn't bear to see him lose that, too.

Pasting a smile on her face, Buffy did her best 'Miss Cheery Optimism' routine.

"Hey, Giles, it's okay. Worse comes to worse, I have to walk back to Sunnydale with you riding piggyback on me," she said, unable to hide a quiet laugh, the mental image was just too funny, especially if Giles had fake pigtails, like he did in her mind.

He was utterly mortified. "My pride would never recover," he indignantly exclaimed.

Buffy countered fairly, "Your pride would be grateful to not be freezing it's butt off."

"Perhaps. But still..."

That was when they both heard it: the sound of breaking branches. And not the normal kind, from high winds and the like, but intentional stomping. As if someone was there, and wanted them to know that they were.

Buffy was digging through her bag in an instant, tucking a stake into the waistband of her jeans, one landing in her right palm and the other one arcing through the air as she tossed it in Giles' direction. It was better to be safe than sorry, the dead kind of sorry. She tried to reach out, tried to sense the vampires as the man beside her had commanded her to do that night at the Bronze all those years ago and... Bingo.

"Two. One for each of us."

"You don't want both?" Giles inquired, as if they were talking about doghnuts or the last slices of pizza. It warmed something in her, that seemingly unfaltering confidence he always seemed to possess in not just her abilities, but in her. Even when she didn't have it herself.

The Slayer shrugged. "Nah, I feel like sharing the fun."

"How generous of you. It's been a while." Giles was smiling as he said it; he had some mad skills of his own.

"You up to the challenge?" Buffy asked teasingly.

"Buffy, I'm not that old," Giles grumbled at her.

"Are you sure? Your car and just your...general youness says otherwise."

"Please, can we just go and stake the vampires?" he huffed at the Slayer. "You can make fun of me later."

"I'll hold you to that."

Leaving the safety of the car's headlights, the pair approached the woods, footfalls silent as they picked their way through the dense foliage, Buffy with a little more grace and fluidity than Giles, who kept knocking into branches and muttering various English swears.

"Shh, they're gonna hear us if you keep up with the commentary."

Giles rolled his eyes. "You try being visually impaired whilst attempting to stealth your way through trees, at night," he tagged on,

"I hope I'm not this cranky when I'm older," Buffy muttered to herself, angling her stake away from her as she kicked away some leaves.

"So long as you get older," Giles said in reply.

Buffy didn't have anything to say to that.

They came across a small clearing, natural gaps between the trees alluding to various paths snaking off from the area. Turning in a slow circle, Buffy closed her eyes and...there. A vampire emerged, another one close in his tail. Both male, both having the looks of fledges, newly minted undead. On the one hand, good: they were untrained and likely to react on instinct. On the other hand, bad: they had more to prove.

"Still up for sharing?"

Giles amended, a slight frown creasing brow, "Maybe you can have the bigger one."

"And people think heroism's dead," Buffy quipped as she launched herself at the larger of the two vampires, tackling him to the hard ground.

Giles was a little more cautious as he went at the remaining vampire, trying to get under his guard. He was successful, but only until the vampire swung his leg out, taking the man's balance with him as the Brit landed flat on his back. Why couldn't I have been a grocer? he thought incoherently as he struggled for breath. Luckily, Buffy was quick in dispatching her own attacker, soon raining down blows with remarkable precision. Scrambling to his feet, stake in hand, he plunged it into the vampire's back, wood piercing his heart and leaving nothing but ashes.

Wiping dust from his trousers, the former Watcher looked up, noting the Slayers lack of cheer. She was usually far more upbeat after such an excursion.

"What's wrong?" Rupert inquired of her, rubbing at his chest.

"That was too easy," Buffy insisted, peering at her stake as if it would supply her a satisfactory answer, or at least assuage her mounting concern.

"It was, yes," he had to admit, scanning the clearing, thinking of the way they'd almost been lead to it, as if this had been some sort of elaborate trap...

Before he knew it, Buffy was sprinting through the woods, heedless of the noise of breaking branches and crunching leaves. Giles was a little more careful, but was just as spurred on, emerging out of the woods a few seconds after her. He almost bumped into her back, for the Slayer was standing stock-still, eyes wide in horror and she took in the scene.

Giles' car was iced over. And not the usual sort of ice one would get from leaving their car exposed to the wintry elements: this was inches thick, so thick he couldn't even make out the shape of the steering wheel through the back window.

"Oh Lord."

"No, not 'Oh, Lord.' This is an, 'Oh, crap' moment, Giles. They froze your car. With magic."

"What makes you say that?" Giles asked, wiping the fog from his classes on the sleeve of his coat.

"I may be blonde, but I know ice can't form like that; we're in California, not the North Pole."

"Actually, the coldest place on Earth is...not relevant right now," Giles finished, her heated glare warning him Mr Factually Correct would not be appreciated right now. If only that glare could melt ice, he lamented, taking a hesitant step towards his beloved car. Bracing a hand on the hood, he gave the tires an investigative kick. Nothing. The ice didn't even shift.

Peering over his shoulder, Buffy tipped back her head and sighed. "Great. Just great. I mean, it's not like this makes much of a difference, given the fact that the car wasn't working properly anyway-" the Slayer flung out a hand, as if forestalling her own words. "Wait, Brain Power Moment: what if they messed up the car? What if it was deliberate?"

"Since when do vampires carry out vehicular sabotage? Why not just come after us? It's not like they know that you're the..."

"Slayer," Buffy ended for him. "Guess you really can't leave your work at the office, can you? They must have followed us from Sunnydale. But why? Why not just fight me on my home turf?"

"Maybe they thought they'd have a better chance of success if they lured you into unfamiliar territory," Giles theorized, worry blooming at the thought.

"Vampires aren't much for planning, let alone orchestrating an ambush. It's usually about fighting in the moment, exploiting weaknesses. The only person around on our Bad Guy Radar at the moment who does like to hire out is...Mr Trick. Super," Buffy huffed, staring up at the twinkling sky with a hopelessly dejected air. "Super, duper, duper. God, I wish I had a doughnut. And some coffee. And another coat. And my bag of weapons. And-"

"I think I get the picture," Giles said, happy to interrupt her ramble, cataloguing every detail of the scene before them in the hopes it might provide some later insight.

"Is there any chance that you leave some emergency witchy-wu stuff in your car for a situation such as this?"

The ex-Watcher gave her a stern look as answer.

"Right. Any bright ideas swimming about in that head of yours?"

"One," Giles admitted hesitantly. "But I don't think you'll like it."

"You were right," Buffy grumbled five minutes later as they made their way back down the road, "I really don't like this."

"It makes sense that whatever weapon they used to freeze my car must be powered by a source of energy, yes, drawing from the cold and harnessing it in a directed beam, as it were."

Buffy supplied helpfully, "Like a freeze ray," kicking a clump of dying grass.

Giles shook his head mournfully. "Sometimes I really worry about your generation."

"Hey, you worry about your own generation and let us deal with the influence of pop culture on the modern lexicon and it's influence on our society."

The man stared at her like she'd grown three heads.

"What! I know big words, too. And I might have been looking at some college courses at UC Sunnydale," she confessed, a blush staining her cheeks. But that was only because of the cold, Buffy told herself. Not because she was almost ashamed to admit that with everything going on at the minute, she'd been selfish enough to spare the idea of her future education more than a vague thought. Willow would undoubtedly get into everywhere she applied, Oz was sure to follow her to the ends of the Earth and Xander had been quietly putting out the idea of taking a road trip across America into the friendship ether...but where did that leave her?

Smack dab between uncertain, conflicted, and downright confused, she'd wager.

"I'm glad," Giles told her, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I hope you know, that despite my recent actions, I have and always will, see you as more than just the Slayer."

She squeezed back. "Thank you. But with the Council sticking their nose in and whatever is going on with the Mayor, it's kinda low on the Priority List totem pole."

"Well, it shouldn't be. You're a bright girl who can do almost anything when you put your mind to it."

Buffy replied glumly, "Accept get us out of this mess, it seems."

He peered at something past her shoulder with a smile, then gestured for her to look past the boulder they had stopped in front of. "If you look twenty feet in front of you, I think you'll find you're wrong about that."

Spinning on her heels, Buffy came face-to-face with a group of vampires, holding a woman with long, dark hair by the shoulders as she knelt beside a riverbank, the sound of her chanting ringing out in space, echoing off the gnarled trees. A scepter was in her hand, half submerged in the icy stream.

"Twenty bucks says that river leads out near Sunnydale," the Slayer murmured as she unwound her scarf from her neck, wrapping the ends around her palms tightly.

"If you break the staff, you should be able to reverse her magic."

Buffy arched a brow heatedly. "'Should be'?" she parroted. "That's what we're operating on here, a should be? Wow, are you filling me with confidence. Not."

He should be used to her antics by now, but the man just rolled his eyes behind his glasses and frowned, "Can we please get on with it? There's water getting into my shoes."

Buffy saluted mockingly. "Aye, aye, Mr Wet Shoes," and flung her scarf around the neck of the nearest vampire, bringing him to the ground in seconds before driving a stake through his heart.

In the end, it took perhaps less than five minutes for Giles and Buffy to break the scepter, free the witch and dispatch all the vampires. It was the Slayer who noticed Mr Trick in the shadows, and she waved her stake at him tauntingly before he blended into the shadows.

After they made sure the witch -who they learned was Kara, a local practitioner who lived in the area and has been kidnapped and held hostage- got home safely, but not before magically repairing the fuel line, the two returned to the ruin that was Giles' car. The ice had indeed melted from it's surface, leaving nothing more than a slippery puddle as proof it was ever there at all, but it would still be a challenge to get going again.

Up to his elbows examining the engine, he squinted as he pulled at things and checked gauges, all the while accumulating more and more grease on his shirt. So distracted was he, Giles almost banged his head when Buffy came to perch beside the front tire, toeing the gravel listlessly. Turning towards her, the Englishman was surprised to see her face so serious. "Look, Giles," Buffy began timidly, then more steadily as he simply listened, "I know the whole thing with the Council, the Cruciamentum...none of that was your fault. You had a job to do, and I respect that. I respect you. I'm not gonna lie and say I'm happy about it, about you lying to me, but I'm not as angry as I was, now that I've had time to think about it. Who knows," she chuckled ruefully, "maybe in the long run, doing it may prove useful. And, I'll admit, it was kinda empowering, knowing I could still beat someone like Kralik as just me, without all my added superhero-ness. In the end, you still came and saved the day, and you payed the price for it: you got fired. Which sucks," Buffy said with an impassioned frown, "I know being part of the Council meant a lot to you, what with your dad and your grams being Watchers and all. I'm sorry I'm the reason that's over for you. And you're broke now. Dear God, how are you gonna live on a librarian's salary, are you gonna have to start eating books like a bookworm?"...

Rupert rolled down his shirtsleeves and hastily slung his coat back on -he knew he'd never hear the end of it if he got grease stains on her- before putting his arms around her and holding on fiercely. Not one known for physical affection -certainly not instigating it- she stilled at the obvious display of affection but more than happily returned the embrace, her Slayer strength creaking his ribs slightly. He welcomed the feeling. "My dear girl, nothing means more to me than you. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I put you through that at all. I want you to know that...that even if you weren't the Slayer, I would still think you are the most wonderful, remarkable young woman, and I would still be just as proud of you, simply just by being here and being who you are. Always."

"I love you," Buffy whispered into the fabric of his coat. There were few times in his life, especially recently, when he'd heard those words, and he was glad, for it was even more special to hear them from her.

"I love you, too," he replied with equally feeling.

"I'd love you even more if we got some hot chocolate some time soon," Buffy said, pulling away slightly so that she could do up the button he'd missed on his coat. "I can't feel my hands."

"I told you to bring an extra pair of gloves," he grumbled at her as he shut the hood and went to give the car one more try.

"But I didn't have any that went with this skirt," she shouted after him as he stuck his head in and flipped on the engine.

"Good to know you've got your priorities mastered," he called sarcastically as the engine caught, once, twice, before returning to life with a triumphant roar.

"Hey, at least if I get frozen into a snow cone I'll look put-together." She beamed at the sound of the car in working order. "I take it that means we can go now?"

"We can."

"Good. Giles?"

"Yes?"

"The next time I wanna see some ice, just point me towards a freezer, okay?" she asked of him as she climbed in, buckling her seatbelt.

He freed the lock of hair caught in the strap. "Fine, I will. You really need to be more careful with these things."

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. "I know. But I trust you to always look out for me."

"And I always will," he promised.

Author's Note: Hello, Buffy fans! Welcome to my little Buffy and Giles, Father and Daughter Fixing Their Relationship fic. I was always a little disappointed how casually they glossed over Giles' betrayal, and then naturally the idea of this fic came to mind. Originally, it was only just going to be him taking her to the show, but I decided to throw in some action and a little magic.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one-shot and please feel free to leave a review and share your thoughts.

I hope you have a great rest of your day wherever you are in the world!

All my love, Temperance Cain.