Giles sat in his favorite chair as he flipped through a furniture catalog. He had just come across a particularly nice couch he thought might be small enough to work in his study. The room was intended to be a combination of library, office, and sanctuary. However, over the course of the last week, it had become clear to him that it was also becoming the place where he felt most comfortable talking with Kimberly.

He was, of course, still dealing with his rather complex emotions concerning Ethan, but with Kimberly's help, they both had started to work through their respective issues. Ethan's convalescence (and the fact Giles had "lost" the television remote) meant his choices for entertainment were limited and he had begun talking to Kimberly in earnest after the first day.

The fact that Giles was now looking at inspiration for furniture was in part a testament to the work Kimberly had been doing with them. Oddly enough, it had been Dawn who had given him the idea, when she joked that he should get a couch for therapy sessions after she had come by one day for a visit with the resident ghost. It had occurred to him then, that Kimberly could potentially help not just himself and Ethan but the rest of the gang as well. Kimberly had been rather enthusiastic when he had discussed it with her, leading him (or them) to catalog shopping.

A pink highlighter floated from the coffee table up the page Giles was looking at, circling the picture he had been examining (and the price) then the page flipped. Giles gave a hum of agreement and continued to peruse the catalog. "You're quite right, Kimberly, we should certainly look at all our options."

"Are you two back on the interior design bit?" Ethan complained groggily from where he had been sleeping as he used the back of the couch to pull himself up into a sitting position. He was still rather weak but had been improving slowly.

"Well yes, I think if Kimberly's going to be sharing the space then she should have a say in the decor, don't you?" Giles answered without looking up from the magazine; now debating the merits of a chaise lounge and wondering if it would fit in the space better.

As he readied his own highlighter to mark a particularly comfortable, masculine-looking chaise lounge, Kimberly beat him to it, circling the same one and adding a star. "That's two votes it would seem," he replied, before moving over to the couch to sit on the now vacant cushion and handing the magazine over to Ethan. "What's your opinion on this one?"

Ethan examined the picture, quirking a brow. "Not my usual taste."

Giles leaned forward to retrieve his teacup from the coffee table and sat back to drink it. "Ah, yes I did notice they seem to have a rather limited selection of animal print, crushed velvet, and whatever other lurid nonsense you've got your mind set on."

Ethan chuckled with a wince and shoved a throw pillow behind his back. "There's that wit. You know, it might not be my usual taste, multifunctional and a bit stuffy, but I suppose it does have a certain je ne sais quoi, I quite like," he answered. "Rather reminds me of that brown bomber jacket you used to wear."

"You hated that jacket."

Ethan twisted a little, still waking up and trying to work out some of the knots. "On the contrary, I just liked taking it off of you more."

"That's quite enough, Ethan," Giles chuckled, setting down his tea cup. He had to admit, now that Ethan wasn't working for the highest bidder or acting as an agent of chaos, it was nice to be able to just sit and talk with him. Little by little he was starting to feel more comfortable with the thought of Ethan being around.

Ethan turned the page, pointing to a low-backed loveseat that looked like it was covered in faux alligator skin in an unusual shade of nearly metallic gray. "I suppose this is more like what you'd expected from me, is it?"

"It'd be right at home with one of your more lurid shirts."

Ethan snorted a laugh, gesturing to the white t-shirt and pajama bottoms Giles had loaned him. "I'm at your mercy in the way of clothing, I'm afraid unless you happened to retrieve my suitcase from that hovel you found me in."

"I had Xander go back to clean up your mess. He brought it the other day when you were asleep," Giles answered, reaching for his teacup and taking another drink.

"More's the pity, I'd been banking on having an excuse to walk around in the nude."

"Of course you were," Giles said sarcastically.

"Can't avoid the whole show for long, those little bird baths I've been taking can only go so far. I'm dying to get properly clean," Ethan countered with an almost obscene groan.

"It does beg the question of whether you feel stable enough to shower. I don't dare try to get you in the bathtub, we'd never get you out again."

"I'll need a bit of help..." Ethan trailed off expectantly.

Giles didn't meet his gaze. "I've considered that, funny enough."

"Have you now?" Ethan purred.

Giles rolled his eyes. "I have an old stool you can use, and I'll stay near if you need help managing."

Ethan smirked, eyes fixated on him, and huffed a laugh. "You do know how to take the romance right out of the equation, don't you?"

Giles bit back a laugh. "Yes well, you're not the only one who thinks you're becoming rather malodorous."

"Oh, you are a charmer."

(*)

Buffy stood over the changing table in the girl's bedroom getting Grace changed after bath time as Spike came in behind her with Lillian wrapped snugly in a pink hooded towel.

"That wasn't so bad now was it?" Spike said in a soothing tone.

"Are you talking to me or the girls?" Buffy asked as she managed to get Grace zipped into the lightweight sleeper she had been fumbling with.

"Miss Lily here got a bit miffed while I was drying her hair," he answered, sidling up to Buffy's side. "Didn't much care for that did you, my little Double-Mint?"

Buffy bounced with Grace snuggled against her shoulder, handing Spike a sleeper for Lillian. "Double mint? That's kinda plural-y isn't it? Shouldn't it be single-mint for only one of them?"

"Nah, then she'd just be a mint. Clearly, Double-Mint is the singular of Double-Mints," he smirked.

"Oh yeah, clearly," Buffy laughed.

They were getting into something resembling a routine now and more accustomed to the irregular sleep schedule. There were times when Buffy was left feeling a little like she was constantly connected to one or both of them around the clock, despite Spike's constant attention and assistance.

Buffy sat back in the comfortable rocking chair they had added to the nursery, as Spike helped her get both babies situated for their bedtime feeding with the help of a pillow.

Spike stood back leaning against the changing table watching the three of them. "Bloody hell, that's a beautiful sight, Slayer."

"You always say that."

"And it's always true," he replied.

"You're a goof, but I'll take it," she answered, watching the girls contentedly, both of them were already edging toward sleep.

A wide smile split across Spike's face. "What do you think about setting a date for the wedding?"

Buffy's gaze snapped up to him. "Our wedding? Now?"

"Well we can talk about it between feedings," he chuckled. "Just figured we seem to be gettin' the hang of this parenthood bit, you'll be getting back to work, training, and slaying before we know it and I just thought it might be a good time to start thinking about it."

She could feel the sting of tears crowding in the corners of her eyes. There she sat, exhausted and feeling more like a walking feed bag than an attractive woman let alone a demon-killing powerhouse; and there he was, standing there, eyes shining with pure adoration. The way he was looking at her now, even in her current state, filled her heart to the point of bursting.

"How soon do you want to do this?" she managed to ask without too much emotion breaking through in her voice.

He shifted, standing up a little straighter. "Sort of depends on how big you want this thing and how long it takes to figure out all the fine print."

She worried her bottom lip, thinking. "Small. We're not inviting my family. We can send out announcements or something and a couple of them would appreciate pictures but I'm not wasting time and money on the rest. Grandma gets a whole album."

Spike gave a sharp nod. "Narrows the list quite a bit then, don't it? I haven't exactly got family to speak of, just a cousin… unless you want to count Angel as family," he shrugged.

"Ah huh… I kinda already figured we were inviting him and the rest of his crew… Do you have an address for your cousin?" Buffy asked.

"Haven't seen her in ages… could try summoning."

"She's a demon?"

"Well yeah, how do you figure she's still living?" There was a pause as he thought for a moment. "Wouldn't surprise me if she'd crossed paths with Anya or Ce—Hallie a time or two over the years, come to think of it."

"A vengeance demon?" she asked, with a raised brow.

"Long story, pet," he grinned.

Buffy shook her head with a quiet chuckle as she gazed down at their daughters. "Always is, right?"

"Absolutely," he answered with a hushed laugh.

Buffy let her mind wander a little, thinking about the prospect of their wedding. "So we're basically talking about the same guest list we had for the shower with a few extras."

"Seems that way."

She nodded, adjusting her hold on her daughters. "What do you think about having it in the backyard?"

"Sure, we can invite the neighbors and grill burgers."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be an ass. I'm serious, do you really wanna deal with the same circus Anya and Xander went through with the rental fees and the crazy? Especially with such a short guest list? I say we decorate the backyard with lights and just have a nighttime wedding here, it'll be easier with the girls too," she added pointedly.

He considered that for a moment, shifting closer to her. "Backyard'll be brilliant," Spike said, conceding the point. "Suppose we won't be having much of a honeymoon, huh?"

"Ehh, yeah, I'm thinking we're gonna end up sorta skipping that part for now," she smirked apologetically.

Spike mimed staking himself in the heart and gave a comically dramatic groan. "Killin' me, Slayer."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "Welcome to parenthood, Daddy."

Once the girls were sleeping soundly in their cribs, Buffy and Spike slipped out of the room and down the hall. Buffy knocked against Dawn's door frame with her knuckle. "Hey, how's it going?" she asked her sister.

Dawn looked up from her position curled up against her pillows reading a book Giles had given her. "It's going," she answered, marking her page and laying the book down. "Babies in bed?"

"Sleepin' like a couple of wee cherubs," Spike answered as he eased in next to Buffy, wrapping an arm around her.

"Oh hey! I just thought of something," Dawn replied, reaching over to grab another book. "Are either of you going over to Giles'? He said he wanted this book back as soon as I was done and I totally forgot about it— for like three weeks now."

"Obviously a pressing issue we need to handle ASAP," Buffy quipped, before a yawn took over. "Nope, it's waited this long, I'm getting my 2-3 hours of sleep while I still can."

Spike chuckled, pulling Buffy closer. "Dunno, pet, girl might have a point. Can take the man out of the library but ya can't take the librarian out of the man. Girl probably has late fees to pay," he smirked. "Could do with a bit of fresh air and seeing as my Summers girls are all comfy cozy for the night I might as well go take this back to Gramps, pay the Watcher's fee, and do a patrol while I'm at it."

"Thanks, Spike, you're seriously the best!" Dawn beamed up at him.

Buffy turned, pressing into him for a kiss. "Yeah, totally is."

(*)

It had been something of an ordeal getting Ethan into the shower and onto the stool Giles had set up for him. Giles stood outside the guest bathroom with his back against the door, actively listening for any sign of distress, when he heard a banging sound come from within. Giles cracked the door open a few inches. "Everything alright?"

"Sodding— I knocked over the shampoo bottle. Damn lid's cracked, shampoo everywhere," Ethan replied over the sound of the water running in the shower.

"This isn't just some ploy to get me in there with you is it?"

"I'm too knackered to do much tonight, dear, if you want a romp I'm afraid you'll have to do all the work."

Giles rolled his eyes, pushing the door open. "Alright, fine, I'm coming in. Just don't get up, the last thing we need is for you to fall and break something," he huffed, going straight to the shower and sliding the glass door open. The shampoo bottle had indeed spilled its contents in a wide swath on the floor in front of Ethan who was sitting on the stool with one calf crossed over his knee as though he had just been washing his foot. The position showed off the wiry muscles of his surprisingly toned body

"Aww, you truly do care," Ethan replied, pulling down a washcloth Giles had left hanging on the rail and tossed it onto the floor.

Giles watched for a moment longer than he probably should have, as Ethan uncrossed his legs and dropped his foot to the cloth in a weak attempt to help clean up the mess in front of him.

Giles sharply averted his gaze, pulling his mind away from the very naked man, and reached up for the removable shower head. The nozzle got momentarily hung up on the mount causing Giles to fumble the handle, and get half-soaked in the process.

Ethan let out a peal of laughter as Giles got control of the nozzle and focused the spray on the floor with one hand and shook water from his glasses with the other.

"Looks like you should have just accepted my invitation to join me after all," Ethan laughed hysterically.

Inwardly Giles had to admit Ethan had a point given the state of his clothes, however, he still had his reservations (crumbling as they were) about letting himself entertain the idea of rekindling a physical relationship. He cleared his throat with a huff. "Do shut up," Giles answered as he replaced his glasses and flicked Ethan with the shower spray making him laugh even harder until he began to wheeze.

Ethan inhaled deeply trying to catch his breath at the same time Giles dropped the spray back down to the slippery floor, directing the mess down the drain. While his attention was focused on cleaning up the mess, Ethan took the opportunity to drag the now shampoo-saturated washcloth over to his stool, scooped down to pick it up, and with a flick of his wrist, tossed it at Giles.

The cloth slapped wetly against his stomach as he fumbled to catch it, dropping the shower head. The cloth flopped down landing with a splash on the shower floor and he jerked back violently as the shower head spun around like a snake hanging from a tree branch, spraying around wildly before Giles finally managed to catch it.

Ethan's renewed laughter filled the bathroom. "They say laughter is the best medicine— and I admit— I do feel better!" Ethan choked out between giggles.

Giles sputtered, water dripping down his face. "Happy to be of service," he groaned with aggravation.

(*)

Spike flicked his cigarette butt to the ground as he mounted the front steps of Giles' front porch, knocking on the door with the spine of the book Dawn had charged him with. He bounced on the balls of his feet, looking up and down the sidewalk before knocking again. Lights were on inside and he was growing impatient. There was no way he was lugging that book around on patrol, so with a third, louder knock (from his knuckles this time) he let himself in.

"Oi! Watcher!" he bellowed before he started to follow the sound of bickering coming from down the hall. "I swear, you two are worse than the bleeding 'Odd Couple' with your—" he stopped short at the sight in front of him, blinking dumbly.

Giles was coming out of the bathroom with his arms wrapped around Ethan's middle. Ethan, who was only just barely covered in his borrowed robe, had an arm slung around Giles' neck for support.

Giles tried to straighten himself in an attempt to claw back a little dignity. "I— this isn't what it looks like— I was helping him," he sputtered.

"Yes, he was," Ethan purred.

Spike blinked a few times, gesturing to the two of them. "Don't know if you noticed, but you're soaked mate— and eh… then some," he added, averting his gaze from them with uncharacteristic embarrassment.

Ethan raked his eyes over Giles. "Yes, he is," he replied, a sultry grin spreading across his face.

Giles looked down at himself, noticing for the first time the sloppy trail of shampoo running down his front, and groaned. "This is not what it—"

"Know what— I don't want to know what you blokes get up to, none of my business."

"Spike, really, it isn't— I can explain—"

"Yeah, you don't need to do that, I got the picture in technicolor— I'm just, eh, here to return a book for the Nibblet," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, turning around. "As you were gents, I'll see myself out."

Spike deposited the book on the liquor cabinet, before leaving them.

Ethan ducked his face into Giles' shoulder as his laughter began again. "The look on your face! God, it's priceless!"

"Utterly hilarious, I'm sure," Giles grumbled, adjusting his grip on Ethan's waist and heading back out to the living room to deposit him on the couch once more.

Giles felt his shoulders relax and a laugh started to burble forth. He couldn't help laughing, the entire situation was utterly absurd.

Given the number of people he had in his life who were welcome to come and go at will, Spike being the one to walk in was probably as close to a best-case scenario as he could have hoped for. Which wasn't much of a comfort and yet he couldn't help it, he laughed and Ethan joined him.

When Giles finally settled himself, he realized Ethan was still in his robe and he himself was dripping onto his rug. He wiped tears from his eyes, picking up a clean set of clothes and handing them over. "Go on then. I've got to get out of these," Giles said, turning away and striding into his bedroom.

He stripped out of his clothes, laying them over the hamper to dry. The smeared shampoo really did look embarrassingly— suggestive.

He chuckled at the whole ridiculous situation, as he changed into a pair of pajamas then padded out to the front door, locking it before returning to the living room.

Ethan had managed to get himself into the boxers and another one of Giles' white t-shirts but he was still struggling to get into a pair of red plaid sleep pants.

Giles stood with his hands braced on his hips, watching him struggle for a few seconds before going over to him. "Allow me," he murmured, helping him finish dressing.

They sank onto the couch together, letting Ethan take up the majority of the couch as he laid back against his pillow while Giles eased his head against the back of the couch still chuckling softly.

"I missed hearing you laugh like that. When's the last time you really let go, actually let yourself have a good time?"

He sighed. "We've been over this… I've put that life behind me, I have responsibilities, I—"

Ethan nudged his leg with his foot. "I'm not talking about Ripper, although those days were some of the best times— I'm talking about you. When's the last time you had a laugh like you just did now?"

"I honestly don't remember… quite some time ago I'm sure," Giles admitted.

"You're going to find yourself in an early grave if you don't watch yourself, mate."

"You do realize we're on the Hellmouth don't you?" Giles chuckled darkly.

Ethan shifted himself down a little further and stretched his legs over Giles' lap. "All the more reason to enjoy the time you have isn't it?"

"Did Kimberly tell you to say that?"

"She might have agreed with me that you could do with an outlet. Although I think she and I have very different ideas of what that should be," Ethan grinned, letting the side of one foot glide across his groin teasingly.

Giles inhaled deeply at the sensation, closing his eyes momentarily before stopping the movement with a hand on Ethan's ankle. He turned to face him, clearing his throat and gave his ankle a gentle squeeze, running his thumb over the bone in a caress. "Ethan… I—" he rasped, his throat had gone dry.

Ethan focused his gaze, studying him intently. "I've heard all your blushing excuses, and yet it's obvious you're interested. The old heat is still there. I know you feel it too and I hope you realize I'm not leaving anytime soon," he replied as he pulled the blanket over himself.

"You're right, I won't deny it, but I also don't want to be rushed. I don't want to find out that all you really wanted was a good shag for old times' sake and then you're off."

Ethan arched his brow in surprise. "You think I would have gone through all this trouble just for another go in the sack?"

Giles shook his head. "If your feelings are as sincere as you say they are, then I figure you'll want to stay around. Why do you think I asked for your opinion on the chaise for the study?" he added with a grin.

Ethan returned the smile and chuckled. "You know, I might be improving— and heaven knows that ghost of yours has given me a fair bit to think about— but I really haven't got any plans of going anywhere. Not when I know there's a chance you might come around."

"Oh I'm starting to think there's more than a chance," Giles murmured, realizing he still had Ethan's ankle in his grasp and that he had unconsciously resumed working his thumb in a slow tender motion. He took in the easy intimacy unfolding between them and was forcefully reminded of the tender moments they shared in their old flat that had ultimately led to the more carnal aspects of their relationship. It had been the same timid curiosity, the same pounding in his chest, and the same look of longing on Ethan's face.

Giles shifted himself a little closer and Ethan took it as his cue to pull himself up into a sitting position resting his arms between his bent knees, with a glint of hope in his eyes. "Do you really mean it?" he asked tentatively, nearly all of his brash swagger had left him and he reached out to grip Giles' wrist.

Giles' gaze flickered from Ethan's hand to his face, swallowing a lump in his throat as he moved himself even closer to brush a kiss across his lips. Ethan gasped into it, welcoming Giles to deepen the kiss slightly. Ethan gripped his shoulders, clinging to him for support as Giles cradled his head, his thumb coming around to cup his freshly shaven jaw.

The kiss came to a natural end when the need for breath became apparent and they inched back from each other, Ethan still breathing heavily. "Glad to see you haven't lost your touch," he breathed.

Giles chuckled, letting his hand drop to the join between Ethan's neck and shoulder. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing."