Disclaimer: The characters of 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions, Inc. No income is being derived from the writing of this fic.

Rating: PG-13

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Editor's note: Read the Forward please.

Forward

By Phil

(Buffy/Spike Shipper Society Editor in Chief)

Let me start this out by saying that each and every one of the Buffy/Spike Shipper Society writers and editors is immensely grateful to our loyal readers who have enjoyed these stories over the last couple of years. You guys are entirely why we write them.

Now, this new fic is a good way to introduce our latest addition to the insanity that is the B/S SS, Jen, who has graciously agreed to try her hand at yet another of my stillborn ideas. For those familiar with our main project, 'Shades of Gray', I will state that this is not the long awaited (well, by us anyway) sequel to SOG, which as you all know, is not finished yet. Instead, this is a novella set during the events of "Shades," which follows the adventures of everybody's favorite ex-librarian Rupert Giles, as he investigates shady goings on in England. Familiarity with SOG is helpful but not really necessary. Still, we'd all appreciate it if you did read that fic and review it because, well we're terribly insecure. [Insert evil grin]. For those not familiar, with our previous work, this fic takes place during an alternate season six (often referred to by us as the SOGverse). The events of seasons Six and Seven of the show have not taken place, nor will they. Everything that has happened during the first five seasons however is taken to have happened here as well.

And now, without further ado, we bring you:

Flowers in the Rain

Prologue

Written by Jen

The flight into Heathrow had been a dismal one, and Giles regretted coming to London almost as soon as he set foot on the plane. Had it not been for a charming flight attendant who'd also been a Charles Dickens fan, he would've gone completely mad listening to that wailing child in the row in front of him. The mother apparently didn't understand that jiggling an infant in the throes of considerable turbulence was what Buffy would've termed, "A majorly sucky idea." It ended with said infant doing a horrifyingly accurate impression of Linda Blair in that Exorcist movie. Giles shuddered again to recall both the film, a favorite of Xander's, and the poor baby.

Because of the foul weather, the plane's arrival was delayed by more than two hours, and that meant Giles would have to change clothes for Sir Robert's funeral in the terminal. He loathed dressing in an airport. Public lavatories were never known for tidiness, and the stalls were always so small that one couldn't move about properly. It meant he risked dunking his tie or dipping a pant leg in some revolting substance left behind by a less than scrupulously clean traveler. Oh well, he hoped this would all be over soon. Travers had made it quite clear he was needed, and that Buffy was quite capable of caring for herself. "You're not the girl's father, Rupert, come home now. She'll manage to fend for herself for at least a few days," Giles hoped this trip didn't turn into more than a few days.

At the gate, he noticed that no one was around to meet him. So much the better, it meant a quick change could be done without some weasely little toady of Travers tapping his foot impatiently. Thankfully, he'd remembered to take his suit bag and shaving kit on the plane, and that would mean no rushing about to the carryall to find his luggage hadn't even arrived yet. That would be a fine topper to the day, he smirked, he'd get stuck wearing some horrid thing stashed at Headquarters for the sake of emergencies, and God knew that lacking at least four tweed suits constituted an emergency in that place. Even he had loosened up a bit over the years. Listening to that lot in Sunnydale tease one relentlessly would force the stodgiest of dressers to consider a few wardrobe updates.

Thankfully, the lavatory was easy to find, but, as Giles predicted, the stalls were horribly small. He twisted and turned about like a circus contortionist while occasionally shouting, "Bloody hell," or "Damnit," but he did finally emerge dressed appropriately, and he'd somehow managed to avoid getting himself wet in the process. When he came forth, several curious looks from other passengers awaited him, irksome. His tie, crooked and uneven, had to be redone. The Windsor knot was quickly corrected and Giles was ready to call a cab if necessary, but he hoped someone might have remembered he was there waiting. Surely Travers hadn't planned on his walking from Heathrow to London. The funeral, due to start in an hour, would be considered a highly important affair, and attendance was probably mandatory. Giles envisioned Travers deducting points from any junior who dared to miss out on the festivities.

Fine, it was time to find someone, anyone, and get the hell out of this place. He left the dingy restroom behind and glanced about once more. To his left stood a woman, hair pulled back repressively, eyeing a map. She wore a black suit, simple black pumps, and was roughly the same height as Giles. He smiled, she had lovely calves and pretty ankles. He hoped her face was

just as pleasing, but he had no time to stand about gawking since he was in a hurry. As she turned, he caught sight of her profile and winced. 'Not her,' he thought, 'I'll have to listen to droning stories of her brilliantly written thesis. I'll kills Travers!' Just then, she spotted him.

"Mr. Giles, there you are! I was afraid you'd missed your flight," Lydia Chalmers smiled brightly, "Wonderful, you're ready for Sir Robert's service."

"Yes, Miss Chalmers, I assume Travers sent a car?"

"One of the Bentleys, of course, he felt it best considering the rest of the Council members are arriving in similar vehicles. Though I do think Mr. Travers is driving himself since he wanted to stop at hospital first."

"Hospital?"

"Oh, yes," she nodded, and Giles took note of her lovely and generous mouth, "Mr. Travers wanted to make certain the autopsy reports were finalized this afternoon. You're to visit the coroner. I'm not sure why. Sir Robert was in his seventies, and his heart was weak, but formalities and all." Again she offered a smile, and again Giles cringed to find himself warmed. She was, after all, rather pretty, and he wondered what she'd look like without the glasses, still, she was also an annoying woman.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'm sure his family will wish to see it as well. His grandchildren are working for the Council now?"

"The eldest boy just started, but I believe his younger brother and sister are finishing up at university. I forget, you're quite distanced from all our news."

Giles smiled, "Yes, that's one way to put it. Shall we find this car of yours?"

"Of course," Lydia directed the tired watcher to follow her while saying, "we'll send someone to collect your luggage." Giles matched her crisp walk, and the two set off for the car. Yes, it was going to be a long day.