Title: Family Fun

Author: KrisB

Rating: PG

Spoiler: Up through Season 3

Disclaimer: All BTVS characters belong to Joss, Fox, M.E., etc. Not mine. Just having fun.

Summary: Response to ODD challenge #14 - Family Fun. Xander & Willow are turned into little kids and it is up to Buffy and Giles to take care of them until they can change them back.
Must haves:

Giles telling the kids a bedtime story, bath time, someone not wanting to wear clothes, someone telling Buffy and Giles what a nice family or (if it is a lot of kids) asking them if they know what causes that, one or more of the kids scared of the dark or of sleeping alone, kid-Xander trying to look up someone's skirt, Giles watching cartoons with the kids and/or playing at the park, happy BG ending.

Buffy descended the stairs feeling like her heart just might explode right out of her chest. She'd never felt more conflicting emotions in her life.

On one hand, she was heartbroken for everyone involved. Half of it for Xander and Willow. Xander was terrified of his father, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Willow was so straight-laced, she didn't even hunch when she walked or sat someplace. They were both so different, and yet it didn't look like either really had a chance to be a kid. They each had a set of parents she wanted to go have a long conversation with. Using her fists. The Harrises most of all.

On the other hand, she was elated. To be asked to be someone's mom. She couldn't believe how much joy she got from dealing with the kids, in working together with Giles. She loved learning about toddler logic – and even middle-aged-sleepy-Brit logic.

That's where the other half of her heartbreak came in… she was torn between wanting her friends back to their normal, silly selves, and keeping their blissed-out, fake little family just the way it was. She'd never thought about wanting kids before. She practically wrote it off, figuring she would never get the chance. Just one more thing Buffy doesn't get to have. She was used to it by now.

She sank on the couch as the thoughts swirled within her.

With all this stuff happening, she'd gotten a taste for it. It was so different from when she babysat those brats back in LA. And when Xander and Willow grew up, it would be back to normal. Patrol, train, tease the Watcher, stress about college. Rinse and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Until school starts and her life changes completely.

She suddenly hated being the Slayer more than ever. Because she knew, deep in the marrow of her bones, that she wouldn't be a mom. A wife. A grandma. She would always be the Slayer, 'til something happened and she died. That's just the way it works. One dies, another is called. Until the end of time.

She was just one more Slayer in line to die.

She lowered her face into her hands and the tears came, flowing down, soaking her cheeks and fingers.

Giles came out of the bathroom, relaxed and refreshed from another shower. He would never again take for granted the peace of a hot, quiet shower, he was sure. His mind turned toward his research, thing about the texts he hadn't yet reviewed. He froze when he heard a pitiful sniff from the living room. Then a muffled sob.

He crept into the room and spotted the back of Buffy's bowed head. Her shoulders were shaking and her hands were clapped to her mouth, trying to reign in the emotions spilling out of her.

"Buffy?"

She stiffened and sat very still, not even breathing. He rounded the couch and sat next to her, his worry transferring into fear when he saw the pale, drawn skin of her features. Her eyes red-rimmed. Her lashes and cheeks glistening. She ran her hands over her face, wiping away the upset with rough detachment.

"What's wrong?" He looked around. "Are the others –"

"They're fine." She sniffed again and began rubbing her palms on the knees of her sweatpants. "They're asleep."

"What happened?"

"Just a case of raging self-pity, Giles." She sniffed again. "I'll be fine."

He sat staring at her, wondering how to proceed. Then her words hit him and he ducked his head down in an attempt to meet her eye. "Self-pity?"

She nodded and shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." He stared at her, waiting. When she met his eye, she sighed. "But you probably want me to anyway."

"It's not every day I find you crying, least of all on my couch," he observed. "Has something happened?"

Buffy shook her head, locking her eyes on his coffee table. "Nothing major."

"Something minor has upset you so?"

Her shoulders slumped. "Okay, okay. Yeesh, you don't give up, do you?"

Giles quirked a brow at her and she sighed again. "And that's not telling you what's going on, either." She sat back, her arms folding over her chest, and tried to keep her line of vision away from him. "I just started thinking about the stuff that Slayers don't get."

"Such as?"

"Normal stuff. You know, what everyone else gets." When he didn't say anything, her gaze swept to him and then lowered to her lap. "Like friends and families and stuff."

"Friends and – Buffy, you have both. Xander and Willow –"

"I was thinking about kids, okay?" She shot from the couch and started a pace, her arms still firmly tucked around herself. Giles watched her step past and considered her words. It took very little to piece together Buffy's train of thought and he closed his eyes.

"If anyone can work at creating a family, it's you," he said softly. He heard her footfalls stop and opened his eyes again, sympathy and concern washing over his face. "You are capable of many things, Buffy."

She threw her arms wide, her eyes hard and demanding. Her voice, when she spoke, however, remained soft, keeping sleeping toddlers in mind. "When? When will I do that? Between classes? I don't exactly see the soccer mom experience making a debut while I'm studying for finals, Giles."

"There is life after college, Buffy."

"Oh really? For Slayers, too?" She sighed in a dramatic way, her shoulders slumping in mock-relief. "Thank goodness, I thought I might have to worry about that, what with the mortal danger and all."

His heart twisted in his chest. He hadn't expected to have this discussion with her so soon. Especially after their victory against the mayor. He stood, facing her, his hands hiding in his trouser pockets.

"How long do you expect you'll live?"

Her head snapped up; her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Well, you seem to be working on a fixed calendar of some sort. I thought you might share. I'd certainly like to know so I may expect it as well."

"Funny, Giles." Her pacing started anew. "I didn't think you'd joke after yelling at me about it all the time." She tossed her bangs from her face, her chin lifting in defiance. "What birthday did the oldest Slayer make it to?" When he flinched, she nodded, letting out a sardonic half-laugh. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

After a moment of tense silence, Giles sighed. His left hand lifted from his pocket to pinch the bridge of his nose. "That has nothing to do with you, Buffy."

Her pacing stopped again. "How can you say that? Of course it has something to do with me. I'm the Slay-er."

He lowered his hand and leveled his eyes with hers. "Because you are rather more exceptional than any other Slayer in recent history."

That statement pulled her up short. "Really?"

Giles' lips twitched in a soft smile. "Yes, well, my opinion is somewhat biased." He blinked and his grin widened a fraction. "I know you quite well."

What Buffy did next surprised him more than finding her breaking down on his couch. She launched herself at him for a hug. He lifted his arms and returned the embrace in an awkward fashion. It took a minute before he relaxed and held her close. He lowered his cheek to her hair, ruffling it with his breath when he spoke.

"You will have children someday, Buffy."

"You sound so sure."

"I am."

She sniffed and tipped her head back, looking up at him. Her stomach resumed its prior activity and tied itself into an intricate series of knots she'd never be able to untangle. Yet she couldn't seem to tear herself away from him.

What the heck was going on?

That night, Giles sat at his desk, glaring down at the books spread there. He felt he was missing something. It seemed as if the answer to the puzzle was right in front of him, but the last piece continued to elude him. He looked up at the small movement he caught in the corner of his eye. Buffy twisted and buried her nose into the cushion under her head. He stood from his desk and rescued the volume that threatened to spill from her lap.

Quietly, he laid it on the coffee table and sat down, watching her. She'd fallen asleep much earlier than the previous night. Undoubtedly due to the late nights and long days of play. She'd done a marvelous job of taking care of Xander and Willow, even with the emotions coursing through her as they were.

The injustice of her situation slapped into his forehead, refusing to be pushed away, and the black clouds of sadness began to roll in.

It just wasn't… fair. She was wonderful with children. She knew what to say, what to do. She'd be an amazing mother. And yet the possibility of her ever having children was so small, no matter how much he wished otherwise.

Fate could be malicious, he decided.

As if all it took was the understanding of such a simple concept, the answer of where to find information on the spell on Xander and Willow came to him, and he rushed to his desk, flipping pages. Victory was at hand.

He could smell it.

As the first rays of dawn trickled through his windows, Giles sighed in heavy relief. He'd found the answer. Found the amulet and the reversal spell to return Willow and Xander to their former selves. Knowing that he would resolve the issue soon seemed to release all the anxiety that'd built up over the last few days.

He sat back in his chair, pulled his glasses off and placed them on top of the open books on his desk. He craned his neck as he stood, rolling his shoulders and kneading the back of his neck with his hand. His gaze fell on the sleeping form of Buffy.

As he approached the couch, he tried to work out what he wanted to say. He sank onto the coffee table and watched her sleep a moment as he had the night before. When he couldn't stall any longer, he reached out and brushed some hair from her cheek. His hand landed on her shoulder, shaking it.

"Buffy."

She opened her eyes, bleary and annoyed. They flew to the giant wrist watch clock on the wall. She looked back at him, it seemed, even more annoyed. "Is something on fire?"

He cocked his head to the side. "No."

"Is someone seriously injured or dead?"

He chuckled. "No."

"Then why are you waking me up at –" she checked the clock again, "– five thirty-seven in the morning?"

He chuckled again, and without thinking, brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. "I've found the spell to help Xander and Willow." As if he noticed for the first time that his hand was on her face, he pulled it back, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

She rose to a sitting position, pushing her hair back with both palms. She stared at him, fighting to keep her face neutral. When it looked like she might lose the battle, she stood and stepped around him, walking to the window, her arms crossed again. She was taking up that pose a lot lately.

"So we're going to grow them up?"

"Yes."

"And everything will go back to normal."

He sighed and stood, facing her. "It's for the best, Buffy."

She spun on her heel, her arms going wide. "I know!" she said. Her eyes filled and her lips curled in anger as her hands dropped to her sides. Her voice lowered to just above a whisper and she looked down at the floor. "I don't have to like it, though."

Giles stalked to her and lifted his hand cup her shoulder, squeezing it.

"Buffy –"

She shrugged his hand off and wiped away her fresh tears. "I need to go for a walk." She turned, looked at him once more, then left the flat.

Buffy circled the block barefoot four times, reeling from Giles' news. She told herself that it was stupid to hope that he wouldn't find the spell. That she wasn't Xander and Willow's mom, and she never would be. That she shouldn't be so upset about a good thing. Telling herself all that didn't seem to help, so she thought about other things, knowing that if she avoided it, the problem would eventually go away.

She returned to the terrace outside Giles' apartment and sat on the edge of the fountain, her hand dipping into the clear water.

Her brain seemed stuck on the feel of Giles' fingers on her face. His tender look as he smiled down at her. The smell of tea on his breath and the rumpled, straight-up look of his hair from a long night of running his hands through it. Just thinking about it brought back the stomach flutters and subsequent knots.

When Buffy realized what she was doing, her back straightened and she jumped up, looking down again at the unrecognized form that used to be her body. This was Giles. Tweed-wearing, tea-drinking, stuffy-scone-from-a-different-generation Giles. He shouldn't be flutter-worthy, but every thought that bounced in her brain had an echoing flutter to follow it.

She growled and stomped her foot.

"Stop it," she said aloud, glaring down at herself. The Stomach Anarchy Faction returned a most emphatic and annoying 'no' by way of a knot-inducing riot of cartwheels.

She bit her lip and slowly brought her eyes up to the man's door.

"All right. I'm stopping this once and for all."

She marched to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it to enter.

He was sitting at his desk. When she walked in, he was already staring at her, intense and silent. She sighed and shut the door behind her. He looked angry.

Or worried.

Sometimes it was hard to tell without an argument going on.

"Hey," she said weakly.

He rose, waiting for her to approach him. She looked up when there was less than a foot between them, searching his face.

"I'm sorry I left like that."

"Are you all right?"

Okay, so he was worried. That was better than angry, she supposed. She nodded.

"Yeah. I'm just a little… you know."

He nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Buffy stared up at him, catching his gaze and keeping it.

She thought about everything that made him Giles. All his qualities, all his faults. She thought about how he adapted to dadhood with Willow and Xander. How determined he was to make sure she got what she wanted in her short life. The loyalty. The support and respect he'd offered so long ago. All the crap he put up with from day one.

For his part, Giles was completely confused. She was looking up at him, emotions passing over her features too fast and too varied for him to read. And yet, she was penetrating his very soul. Looking into him, through him, above and beyond.

And before he could fathom the direction of her thoughts, Buffy reached up, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him down until she could reach his lips with hers. Her lips, hard at first, as if she didn't want what she was taking, softened and molded to his, her groan humming between them. Her hands flattened against his chest, moved up to his shoulders, and finally locked behind his head, her fingers roving into his hair.

Before he recovered enough to acknowledge what was actually happening, Buffy pulled back from the kiss, a little breathless, and stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Giles?" She searched his face, then said "If I didn't gross you out, do you think you could kiss me back this time? I've seen you kiss before. I know you know how."

She didn't give him time for a reply. She moved up again, rubbing the balls of her fingertips on his scalp as she brushed her lips against his. She took a deep breath, smelling his skin. When she sighed and flicked her tongue against his mouth, he gave in and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her up, crushing her to him, and ravaged her mouth as she'd never had done before. He tasted, nibbled, sucked and moaned, loving her with his mouth.

Slowly, he lowered her to the ground after he broke the kiss, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

"Told ya."

"Buffy, what –?"

She shushed him, her arms tightening around him as she tucked her head under his chin. "I don't know. It just took me over." She sighed. "I've kinda been blindsided."

Giles snorted. "You were blindsided? What would that make me?"

She nuzzled into his chest. "Floored."

"Quite."

"So the demons were trying to turn people into kids?" Willow's face scrunched in disgust. "Why? I mean, what kind of demons were they?"

Giles turned one of the texts around, thankful that Willow was now old enough to read and understand what he was trying to tell her. He pointed at the picture and corresponding definition. "M'rahli demons. They were well known to kidnap children for both food and slave labor." He sighed and shook his head. "People have become so protective over their children in the last century that it's become much more difficult to simply take them."

Willow looked up at Buffy through the breakfast bar opening and grinned. "Good job, Buffy."

Buffy shrugged and continued making dinner. She refused to admit it yet, but she was still upset that everything had been reversed. Xander was back to his six-foot glory, just as goofy as he was before. Willow was bent over the books with Giles, going over all the details of his research and the spell used to correct her age. As soon as everyone left, it would be back to normal.

Except she was different.

And she didn't know if she could deal with everything coming with all this stuff in her head.

The sizzle of the pasta boiling over broke her reverie and she removed the pot from the heat. She checked and made sure the noodles were cooked, then drained them in the sink. Giving a final stir to the sauce she'd made, she pulled the garlic bread and roasted veggies from the oven. She set everything on the breakfast bar, left the kitchen, and set the table with the feast she'd prepared. Fresh salad, home-made garlic bread, a special, spiced up sauce with roasted vegetables tossed in and a fruit salad for dessert.

"All right, guys! Please put your pencils down. Time's up," she said lightly. She approached Giles from behind, her hands coming down in front of his face, and closed the book he was looking at with Willow. She ruffled his hair and jumped back when he turned in his chair to glare at her. "Come on, you don't want it to get cold." She turned from him, not catching the absolute shock written on Willow's face.

Willow followed, watching Buffy and Giles for the first time since she'd returned to her normal age. They were smiling at each other. A lot. Sharing little looks. Xander was oblivious, of course, and any attempts she made at pointing it out to him would be misinterpreted and probably embarrass her to no end.

She'd just have to figure it out on her own.