( RIPOSTE ][ A Watchergirls Archive )

__Increments__
By Jolene Beasley

"And now?" William ‘Bill’ Armstead’s voice came through loud and clear, amplified by the tiny device in Giles’ hand. The cellular telephone was a marvelous invention, he thought to himself.

"Only just... try across the street." Giles held his phone to his ear and concentrated as he reached out through the Bond to sense where the Observer was standing. Sure enough, the now-familiar aura was still there at the edge of his awareness.

Bill sprinted across the quiet street and took up position on the far sidewalk. "I’m across the street, sir. Approximately one hundred feet away. Can you still ‘see’ me?"

"Yes, but it’s faint. If I wasn’t concentrating, I don’t think I’d know you were there." Giles relaxed as he relayed the information. They had been testing the perimeters of Giles’ Bond enhanced awareness, and had just about reached his limit, at least, as a solo act. Now, it was Buffy’s turn.

"All right, that will do for you, sir." Armstead spoke into the phone, still amazed at its technology. "Now, Mrs. Giles, if you please..."

Giles handed the telephone to Buffy. She shifted on the couch as she said, "Hey, Billy-boy! No fair! You moved again before I could start!" She winked at her husband sitting beside her, then turned the majority of her attention back to the living room floor and her happily playing son.

Across the street Armstead grinned as he walked away from the house. She was stronger than Giles by half. "Sorry, Mrs. Giles, I couldn’t resist."

"You’re half-way down the block, you turkey. And it’s Buffy, not Mrs. Giles."

He swallowed and acknowledged, in a strained voice, "It’s Buffy, of course. I’m moving to the end of the street. What about now?"

"Yep. Still gotcha on my radar. Watch out for that car."

Armstead looked up as the vehicle whizzed past. "That is simply stupendous! At least two hundred and fifty feet! And, I’d wager it would quadruple if you two were together."

"Yep, again. C’mon, I’ve had enough Weird Science for one day. Let’s go get ice cream!"

********

"Hey, Marcus, you want some?" Buffy held the small spoonful of melting dessert just out of the baby’s reach. "C’mon, sweetie baby, let Mommy feed you. You’re still too messy for public viewing."

Marcus bounced enthusiastically on Giles’ knee. They’d discovered quickly that most restaurant high chairs were too big for their precocious child. He could slip right out of them and be in the floor before they could react. Marcus was happier in his father’s lap, anyway.

Armstead shifted in his seat, still overwhelmed by what he had witnessed in just a few short weeks. The child was developing rapidly, more so than the Council had even predicted. The Bond seemed to increase in the infant as his coordination and strength developed. Armstead was only beginning to realize the depth and strength of the connection between the three of them, and it amazed him... and frightened him, as well. Still, to look at Buffy, she seemed so... normal, so young... and she was feeding her baby ice cream. "You feed the lad ice cream?"

"What he likes, he gets. Doctor Phil says Marcus knows what he needs, and if he wants it, within reason, he can have it. He’s pretty much eating everything we eat, ‘cept for stuff that has to be chewed. You gotta get a few more teeth before you do any chewing, don’t you, sweetie?" She avoided a grasping little hand to spoon the cool treat into Marcus’ open mouth. His eyes widened with pleasure, and he swallowed happily before squealing for more.

"My turn, love." Unable to manage his own dessert and his son simultaneously, Giles grinned as Buffy scooped a large bite of raspberry sundae onto her spoon and leaned forward to lift it to his mouth. He just managed to get his mouth around it before Marcus grabbed the spoon. A pseudo tug-of-war resulted, with Giles winning out by holding his head up until the spoon was out of reach. As he handed the bit of plastic back to Buffy, he commented, "I ought to be losing weight, what with our little obstacle course present at nearly every meal."

"You and me, both, babe. Marcus thinks if it’s good enough for Mommy and Daddy, it’s good enough for him," Buffy reasoned, her tone proud and maternal. "He even tries to do everything you do, babe. He’s even started saying ‘Mummy’ like you do, instead of ‘Mama.’ It’s just so cute."

"Moooh..." Marcus mouthed, impatiently.

"More? You want more, baby? No problem... here it comes..."

Marcus smacked happily. Ice cream was good. Mummy and Daddy loved it, and he did, too.

"Simply amazing," Armstead said with admiration. That Buffy could feel Marcus’ emotions, likes and dislikes so easily was truly amazing. Marcus had been born with these abilities, but Buffy had adapted to them, out of necessity. Was it the Bond, or did mother instinct equip all women with similar gifts? Bill had completely forgotten about his sundae. He was too busy observing. He didn’t realize he’d stopped staring at Marcus and was gazing at Buffy with an intense look on his face.

"Bill, your sundae is leaning. It’s gonna be in your lap pretty soon if you don’t eat it."

"Oh! Sorry. I shouldn’t stare, I realize."

Buffy shrugged. "You get paid to watch. No big."

Giles said nothing, but his expression darkened with suspicion. Marcus shifted his gaze from the tantalizing spoonful of ice cream to the man sitting across the table. He looked at Bill with similar distrust. Buffy felt the building emotions, and started laughing. "But, maybe you better save the goo-goo eyes for Willow. You’re making both my menfolk jealous."

The Observer’s face flamed in embarrassment. He ducked his head and began toying with his dessert. "So sorry. Bad form."

Giles gave a non-committal snort and turned his attention back to Marcus. He made a promise to himself that he would watch this fellow carefully, not only for Marcus’ sake, but for Buffy’s as well.

This was going to be a very long five years, if this was any indication.

********

"So, what did he say to that?"

"What could he say? You shoulda seen it, Will... Giles had steam coming out of his ears."

Marcus, looking up from his high chair next to Buffy, slapped the tray impatiently. Willow had stopped by just in time to witness the noon feeding of a precocious, yet not quite coordinated, baby. She and Buffy were taking turns distracting the infant so that the other could shovel spoonfuls of baby food and mashed potatoes into his mouth. So far, the tag-team of Rosenberg-Giles had succeeded in keeping most of the strained carrots off the floor.

Buffy knew her best friend well enough to see that Willow was feeling a little blue. "So, Will, you haven’t said lately... what’s the status on the Oz front? Still keeping in touch?"

Willow bowed her head sadly. "Not much now, but it’s okay. I never saw him anyway, since the Dingoes started doing the big-time tour thing. I guess I knew, but I didn’t want to know, you know?"

"Yeah." Buffy captured two grabby little hands as Willow maneuvered a dollop of strained carrot into Marcus’ waiting mouth. "I do know, but I’m still sorry."

"It’s okay, really. I mean, it’s not like we got together all that often anyway. Even when he was here, he was... not. If it wasn’t wolf time, it was practice time, or gig time. Not much Willow and Oz time at all. It’s for the best." She sighed and made a funny face at Marcus as he smacked and swallowed his bite with relish. "Besides, it makes for more Willow and Buffy and Marcus time, doesn’t it, Markie?"

"Will!"

"I know, I know, MarCUS. But he knows it’s just a pet name, don’cha, baby?"

"Moooh!" Marcus stated emphatically, refusing to be distracted.

"Okay, okay, more! Here ya go..." She zoomed in with another spoonful of orange goo, and the baby gave a wide grin before engulfing the spoon eagerly.

Buffy continued, "Well, anyway, back to the male hormone discussion. I think Bill is afraid to come over right now. I haven’t heard from him all day."

"Giles isn’t still mad, is he?"

"Nah. He got over it. Mind reading has its advantages... he knows I’m not the least bit interested. And Bill... well, he’s just being a guy. He’s never said or done anything that could be called ‘improper’. I mean, really, all he did was just look a little. That’s considered way normal in Guy-ville."

Willow carefully scraped carrot off the tiny face and made sure most of it went inside the eager little mouth, grinning as Marcus smiled a cheerful, orange-smeared smile at her. "Buff, you don’t really think he’s... I mean, he wouldn’t... because you’re married, and with a kid and all... and he’s British, after all, and Brits are all proper and... and they just don’t do things like that... well, some of them might do things like that, but not the ones we know... I mean, he’s a gentleman, and uh, he wouldn’t dream of... uh, I mean, he seems a lot nicer than that, right?" Willow stopped her disjointed rambling and blushed brightly.

Buffy’s eyes lit up in sudden revelation. "Willow? Do I detect a note of personal interest in that total non-sentence you just said? You want a Brit of your very own? No wonder the Oz thing hasn’t got you all weepy."

"Stop putting words in my mouth! I’m not... he’s just... well, he is cute, in a military, British stiff-upper-lip kinda way... and besides, Xander likes him."

Buffy untied the heavily stained bib, expertly wiped Marcus’ hands and handed him off to Willow so the clean up could begin. "Xander likes him, huh?" Despite her casual tone, Willow knew her best friend was on to something, and wouldn’t let it go. Without missing a beat, the blonde continued, "And, of course, that makes it all hunky-dory, then? Will, ‘fess up. You like Wild Bill Armstead."

"Wild Bill? Um, where’d you come up with that?" She bounced Marcus gently as he cooed, content with his full tummy and his mother’s teasing mood.

"That’s what Giles and I call him when nobody else is around. It’s sorta opposite of the way he actually is... and it’s about the only way I can mention him without Giles going into caveman mode... y’know, ‘ugh, my woman, grunt, growl.’ It’s lame, and totally not reality-based, but he’s so cute when he gets that way... Giles, not Bill."

Willow started giggling at the thought of her oh-so-proper friend behaving like a Neanderthal. She was also grateful for the brief reprieve... Buffy had forgotten about teasing her, and that was fine with Willow. "Cave Giles? I can’t picture it."

"Believe me, underneath all that education and breeding, he’s typical male through and through. He just hides it better than most guys. Bill is perfectly nice, but he isn’t blind, he notices... well, stuff, and it makes Giles all crazy." Suddenly, she frowned at Marcus, wrinkling her nose. "Men are such trouble. Take this little guy, for instance... he needs to be changed, big time!"

Willow nodded, making a face as she hastily handed him back to his mother. "I think that’s my cue to volunteer to do the dishes!"

Buffy called over her shoulder as she started up the stairs with her fragrant child, "I’m telling you, Will, guys are a bunch of trouble!"

********

"Rupert, no..."

"Buffy, love, please..."

She slid out of his arms as he gritted his teeth in frustration. "Babe, I just don’t wanna do anything while Marcus is awake. It’s too weird."

"But, darling, we’re going to have to learn to block this somehow... avoiding the issue isn’t going to accomplish anything, except perhaps driving me to distraction." He took a couple of steps towards her and embraced her again, holding her loosely to keep her from skittering away again. "What brought all this on, anyway? Just this past weekend you didn’t seem concerned about Marcus’ perception of our sex life."

She knew she’d hurt her husband’s feelings, but she couldn’t escape the niggling worry that they were somehow corrupting their infant son with their decidedly erotic emotions. "I don’t know, babe... it never bothered me until today. He’s getting more... I dunno, aware, I guess... every single day. I just feel weird about being all adult when he’s listening. I know it’s dumb, and I’m probably making a bus out of a bug... but he’ll be sound asleep in half an hour. Bear with me, okay?" She nestled against him, sliding her arms around his neck, and felt desire coming from him like heat from an open oven. "I promise to make it up to you." She gave him a well-placed kiss, just at the corner of his mouth. She felt him acquiesce, and smiled up at him. "You’re such a sweetie."

"Yes, well, I’m a complete push-over, that’s what I am." He released her and started for the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. As he exited the bedroom, she heard him grumble, "Marcus, son, you’d best go to sleep quickly." She couldn’t help laughing. Suddenly, a curious question came floating back to her from the bathroom. "Bus out of a bug?"

"Yeah... you know... a big Greyhound bus and a little Volkswagen bug."

"You’re never one to use conventional metaphors, are you?"

"Hey! It makes more sense than ‘a mountain out of a molehill’."

"Well, I suppose, from your perspective, it would do."

She laughed briefly, then sent her mind questing into the nursery across the hall. Drowsy, contented, and slightly bored baby thoughts came back to her, and she smiled. From the bathroom, Giles mirrored the smile, his irritation melting in the warmth of his love for his wife and son. So, things were a little more... complex... than in most households. They would simply have to learn to ‘deal,’ as Buffy so succinctly put it.

In his crib, Marcus yawned widely and settled into his sleeping position, more prone that before, but still on his stomach. He sighed and murmured, "Muh-mee... Dah-dee..." the words a soothing mantra that lulled him into sleep. The words and feelings behind them transmitted clearly to his parents.

When Giles stepped back into the room, they both had tears glistening in their eyes.

Buffy sniffed back a tear, and gave her husband a lopsided grin. "He’s such a sweetie. Just like his Daddy."

Giles dropped his gaze, grinning self-consciously, as he always did when she complimented him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her for long, however, and when his gaze met hers, the look changed from chagrined to aroused. Her grin became a full fledged smile, and she arched a perfect eyebrow at him before turning away. He watched hungrily as she moved around the room... slipping out of her clothes, turning down the bed covers, brushing out her hair, padding over in bare feet to turn off the light.

She looked around, seeing him still standing rooted to the spot in the darkness. "You gonna stand there all night, or are you coming to bed?"

He reacted by quickly shucking his trousers and dropping them in the clothes hamper. No matter how distracted he was, he just had to be a neatnik. Buffy started giggling as he stalked towards her, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the street lights as it filtered through the blinds. She let out a tiny shriek as he pounced on her, propelling them both onto the bed and causing the frame to creak alarmingly.

"Rupert!"

"Hmm?"

"What happened to half an hour?"

"He’s asleep already."

"Look who’s Mister Impatient all of a sudden. What happened to ‘slow and steady?’"

"It comes after ‘hot and heavy’ tonight."

"Rupert!" Her giggle became a suppressed laugh as he growled and continued his assault on her neck.

"Shush, love, you’ll wake Marcus," he mumbled into her soft skin.

"Me? I’m not the one trashing the furniture... ahh... all I ever broke was a lamp... ooh, babe, yeah... and you’re shooting for a new bedroom suite..." she moaned softly, and he paused in his exploration to smile. He knew that sound... it meant he was making headway. He responded by moving his mouth to her earlobe, sucking lightly before rolling it gently between his teeth. She moved further into his embrace, his warm hands, gentle nips and soft kisses persuading her in ways that his pleading voice and thoughts could not.

Across the hall, the baby slept soundly.

********

"I don’t really know who to talk to about this, Will." Buffy cradled the telephone against her shoulder as she folded towels and put them in the linen closet. "We need some help, but this Bond stuff is way new to just about everybody, so we’re probably on our own."

"Well, I may not be able to help, but you can always talk to me, Buffy." Willow’s concerned voice soothed Buffy’s nerves considerably. That’s what best friends were for, she thought with a smile.

"Well, I don’t want to talk details, because you’d probably run screaming, best friend or not... but if you come across anything in your research about blocking mental telepathy, then I wanna hear about it, ASAP. I don’t even wanna think about what it’s gonna be like when he gets old enough to start asking questions. I can just hear it now, ‘Mummy, why are you and Daddy always locking the bedroom door? I already know what’s going on in there.’ I think I’d die."

Willow laughed at her friend’s imagination, and promised to do her best to find a solution. "I’ll take the net road and Giles can take the book road..."

"...and I’ll be in the Twilight Zone before you. Hey, I might even try my hand at the research thing. I’m not gonna raise a warped child... well, not if I can help it. With our crazy lives, a little warping is inevitable, I guess."

"You guys are great parents. If he ends up being warped, at least it’ll be a loving warped."

"That goes a long way toward making me feel better, Will," Buffy retorted dryly. After a few minutes of closing conversation, Buffy hung up and looked around for Marcus. She’d only taken her eyes off him for a minute...

"Marcus? Baby, where are you?" He was fast, the little dickens, too fast for a pre-walking infant. Too fast for even her, at times. She began to panic. There were stairs just down the hall. "Marcus! Where are you!"

She quested outward with her mind and felt nothing but the background hum that was present whenever she was near her child. She dashed across the hall to the master bedroom, and stopped short.

Snuggled into a comfortable ball in the middle of their king size bed, amidst rumpled bedclothes, a tiny baby slept. Somehow, he’d managed to crawl into the bedroom and climb onto the bed. It was nap time, and she had been busy on the phone, so he’d put himself to bed in the safest, most comforting place he could reach... the place that represented both parents and their heartfelt expressions of love.

Her heart racing, she couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or worried.

* * * * *

"Buffy, are you sure? Do we dare bring another outsider into our lives?"

"Rupert, I need some serious reassurance, here, and wait, I know what you’re gonna say... but I need a professional opinion. I mean, just when I think I know my child, he changes. It’s freaking me out, and that can’t be good for Marcus... or you, either. Don’t you want to be sure Marcus is okay? I mean, he’s just too perfect, y’know? What if that’s a bad? What if he’s supposed to cry sometimes, just because? What if all this ESP stuff is messing up his innocent little mind? What if..."

Giles halted her words by pulling her into his arms and holding her gently. "Love, if you need to hear that Marcus is okay from a complete stranger, however highly educated he may be, then so be it. I shall never consider your concern for our son to be trivial, I promise you. I’ll call Doctor Phil this afternoon between classes and see if he knows of someone we can trust."

"I’m sorry, babe. I don’t mean to imply that I doubt you when you say Marcus is fine... it’s just... I just want us all to be fine."

"Shh. It’s all right." He held her close, his cheek resting on her soft hair. "If it will bring you peace of mind..."

"Thank you. You’re the greatest." She snuggled into his warm embrace, sighing with relief. He always understood, even if what she wanted was crazy.

"Now, love, stop calling yourself crazy."

"We’re all a little crazy, babe. Comes with the whole ‘Chosen One’ gig."

"Then I shall be happily crazy with you and Marcus forever."

She rewarded his loving declaration with a warm kiss. "You’re a prince, Rupert Giles." She grimaced as she noticed the clock behind him. "A prince that’s gonna be late for class if he doesn’t leave right now."

He started, throwing his arm up to see his watch. "Good heavens, you’re right!" He gave her another quick kiss and started out, pausing to grab his briefcase from the hall bench by the door.

Before he put his hand on the knob, he heard a cheerful baby voice exclaim, "Dah-dee bah-bye!"

He had to turn around. He dashed into the living room and dropped to one knee where Marcus was happily playing with his toys. He gave his son a quick hug and kiss, and managed to say, "Daddy loves you, Marcus. Bye-bye, now, I’ll see you soon."

Marcus crowed and clapped his hands awkwardly. "Soo’, Dah-dee. Bah-bye."

As a teary Giles finally made it out the door, Buffy wandered over to the couch, lost in thought. She sank down, a thousand worries clouding her mind, but was quickly distracted by a tiny hand on her knee. Marcus’ solemn face gazed up at her. "Muh-mee?" he said tentatively, his lower lip starting the trademark quiver that signaled tears weren’t far behind.

"Oh, baby, Mummy’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I’m just worried, and that’s something Mummies do. We can’t help it, okay?" She lifted the child into her lap and felt the warmth of maternal love wash over her as he snuggled up against her. "I just want to do the very best I can for you, sweetie baby. I just don’t always know what that is. Bear with me, okay?" She rubbed her nose against his smaller one, and watched with joy as a sunny smile reappeared on the infant’s face.

"Muh-mee," Marcus said as he patted her cheeks. He didn’t have the words as yet, but the meaning was plain. He didn’t like for her to be upset.

"I sure wish you could tell me what’s going on inside that precocious little head of yours." Buffy gave him another hug before releasing him back to his toys.

Inside his precocious little head, Marcus was wishing the same thing.

********

"So, this is Marcus," the kind-faced doctor said, beaming at the couple sitting before him. The object of discussion had spotted the toys in the floor and was making a crawling bee-line for them, squealing happily. He didn’t seem at all disturbed by the stranger in the room.

The child psychologist’s office was decorated with a mish-mash of Sesame Street, Muppet, and Winnie the Pooh characters. They were brightly colored and non-threatening, adorning the room at far below adult eye level so as not to loom over the tiny patients that visited daily. Doctor Stevenson had recommended this man, claiming that he had sent several non-human and half-human patients to him, and had found him to be thorough, capable, up-to-date... and not easily frightened, which was always a plus. He was also highly respected in his field, a matter than held some weight with Doctor Phil, but none with Buffy or Giles.

Buffy eyed the fifty-ish man warily. She was trying not to let her natural cynicism win out. It didn’t help that her husband was the master of the sarcastic remark... verbal or mental. ‘He looks like Mel Brooks,’ Giles thought placidly, watching Buffy’s mouth twitch in response. As Doctor Leibermann approached, she sent her husband a warning thought... ‘If you make me laugh in this man’s face, babe, you’ll be seriously sorry.’

‘If he bursts into a chorus of "High Anxiety" we shall both be seriously sorry.’

‘Rupert! Stop it! I’m never letting you rent movies again.’ She glared at him quickly, then pasted a pleasant smile on her face and greeted Dr. Leibermann. "Hello, Doctor Leibermann. We’re the Giles-es."

"Hello, there, ah, Buffy, right?" Doctor Mendl Leibermann held out a hand to her, no trace of pre-judgment on his face. "A pleasure. And you are Rupert."

Giles shook the hand firmly, satisfied with the man’s firm, steady grip. "Doctor Leibermann. Doctor Phil speaks highly of you."

"Ah, Phil Stevenson... salt of the earth. We have a mutual admiration society going. I only hope I can help. Now, if you will have a seat, and excuse me for a moment..." Buffy suppressed a giggle as the rotund, balding man carefully got down on his knees and crawled over to where Marcus was happily banging a rattle against a plastic pail full of interlocking monkey figurines. "Hello, Marcus, I’m Doctor Mendl. I’m very pleased to meet you."

Marcus’ head came up and he looked the man right in the eye. The slightest frown crossed the smooth baby face as he evaluated Doctor Mendl thoroughly. Apparently satisfied, a sparsely-toothed grin spread across the tiny face, and he said, "Hew-wo."

Leibermann sat back on his heels, astonished. "My, my, you are an articulate little fellow, aren’t you? And who are these people you brought with you?" He waved a meaty hand at the Gileses.

Marcus, knowing full well he was the center of attention, smiled even more broadly and answered, with accompanying gestures that left no doubt as to whom he was identifying, "Muh-mee... Dah-dee." He clapped his hands, feeling his parents’ proud reaction in his mind like sunshine through an unshaded window. He liked making them happy.

"Very good! Thank you for introducing me, Marcus. Now, tell me, what is your favorite toy?"

"Bwoo..." Marcus began to look around him, seemingly agitated.

Buffy started, then began rummaging into her diaper bag. "Oh, baby, I have it. Just a minute..." She dug into the bottom of the bag as Marcus crawled up to her and pulled himself up, using her leg as a support. "Here he is!" She pulled out a ragged looking, bright blue stuffed bunny and handed it to the baby, her sunny smile mirroring his as he let go of her with one arm and hugged the toy with the other.

He immediately dropped back to his knees, crawling back to the Doctor, the doll grasped firmly in one hand. When he was within arm’s distance of his new friend, he sat up and, with an air of solemn ceremony, presented the Doctor with his prized possession. "Bwoo!"

Doctor Mendl Leibermann, experienced child psychologist and pediatrician, winner of several prestigious fellowships, awards, and countless government grants for the study of children and their environment, was stunned speechless. He accepted the toy gravely, realizing the child intended to share it with him. He had never encountered a child this young with such a complete lack of possessiveness. As he searched for something to say, he examined the stuffed bunny carefully. It was indeed blue, and well worn. Beloved.

Finally, he managed, "Thank you Marcus. I can see this is a very special toy, indeed. And it was very nice of you to share it with me. Ah, Buffy..." He looked up at the young mother. "Does Marcus know his colors?"

"I think he knows most of them. He can’t say them very well, but he named Blue all by himself. We point out colors to him every day, when we can. He’s so curious... he wants to know what everything is, even if he can’t say it yet."

"Remarkable. Amazing. And he is completely human? Forgive me for the question, gentle folk. I see some unusual things during my workday." Making no effort to return to his comfortable chair, Doctor Leibermann shifted into a more comfortable position with his back against the wall.

"He’s human as you or me, Doc. Rupert and I do have this... uh... telepathy thing going on, and I think maybe that has made him... oh, I don’t know what you call it, exactly... different, I guess."

Leibermann stretched out his legs carefully, so as not to disturb Marcus as he played happily, unconcerned that the strange man still had his favorite toy. "I would call it miraculous! How old is he again?"

The pride oozed from his voice as Giles replied, "Nearly six months. In just a few days, actually."

"Remarkable." Leibermann stopped asking questions and just watched the child with his toys, his eyes sparkling with discovery. After perhaps ten minutes had passed, Marcus suddenly looked up at his mother, a frown on his face. The doctor bit back a question, knowing from experience that observation answered almost everything he could ask, in time.

He watched with growing awe as the child crawled up to his mother and held up his arms. She scooped him up, her smile not quite masking the disquiet on her face. He turned towards her, patting her face gently. "Muh-mee, no... Muh-mee, no..." he said tenderly.

Leibermann looked at the blonde girl closely for the first time. Tears of worry were glistening in her eyes, and the child was doing his best to comfort her. He found his eyes welling up as the child continued to croon softly, finally putting his small cheek against hers. When that didn’t dry her tears, he turned impatiently and reached for his father. "Dah-dee?" He flexed his fingers urgently until Giles slid over next to them, his chair making loud scraping sounds on the vinyl floor.

"Buffy..." Giles let the rest of his sentence dwindle off, and finished his thought via the Bond. ‘...neither Marcus nor I like it when you worry."

"I can’t help it." She continued nonverbally, ‘He’s just... I love him so much.’

"As do I, dearest," Giles replied aloud without realizing it, intent as he was on defusing the tension his son felt. Marcus grabbed his father’s large hand and pulled it until the palm was touching Buffy’s arm. He guided it in an awkward stroking motion, staring intently into Giles’ eyes. Giles caught on immediately. He was to cheer Mummy up, so she wouldn’t be sad.

He slid his arm around her slight shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug. With his other hand, he gave Marcus a tender caress, sliding his hand over the tiny head. "It’s all right, Marcus, love, Mummy’s fine. She’s just being terribly silly, but we love her anyway."

Marcus responded by throwing his arms around Buffy’s neck and giving her an enthusiastic hug. He leaned back, beaming, and said carefully, "Wuh’ yoo." Her tears reappeared, but they were tears of love, and she replied, "Love you, too, sweetie baby." He then crawled over the chair arm and hugged his father equally strongly. He then patted Giles on the face and slid off his lap, crawling back to his toys with a satisfied look on his face.

Doctor Leibermann’s mouth was hanging open. He sat and watched Marcus return to baby play as if nothing extraordinary had happened. After a couple of tries, he finally managed, "I think I begin to see how things are in your family. Buffy, Rupert..." He began to struggle to his feet, but before he could brace himself against the wall, Buffy was at his elbow, helping him to stand. She was amazingly strong, and he rose with little effort. "Thank you, Buffy. Ah, I don’t think you need my help with Marcus, kind people."

Buffy looked worried. "You don’t? Then you can’t help us?"

He began to chuckle, finally recovering somewhat. "Oh, I might be able to help. It’s not Marcus that needs help coping with his special abilities... it’s his parents, especially you, dear young lady. You have a remarkable child... selfless, open, trusting, yet extraordinarily aware. Such awareness can be frightening for any parent... but that fear and insecurity can be alleviated, to a large extent. I just might be able to show you some ways to do that, and some techniques for controlling its effect on the two of you."

"Thank God," Giles breathed.

"Indeed," Doctor Leibermann agreed wholeheartedly. "Shall we begin with weekly visits? My secretary will set up a schedule..."

********

"It’s okay, you can say it out loud. I won’t yell or anything."

"Say what, love?" Giles replied softly, nuzzling her ear. Even though he knew what she was going to say, he felt she needed to say it aloud.

She shifted under the covers until she was facing him. They’d just put Marcus to bed, and were talking quietly, waiting for him to fall asleep. It was only nine o’clock, but they’d retired early, Giles sensing that Buffy needed a little ‘personal’ reassurance. He held her gently as he waited for her jumbled thoughts to come together and form a reply. "Say, ‘I told you we were just fine,’ or something suitably British that means the same thing."

He laughed and rubbed his nose against hers. "I needn’t say anything, need I?"

"Okay, that was pretty British, even if it was nicer than I deserve."

"Oh, love..." He moved closer, his body warm against hers. "...you deserve far more that I will ever be able to give. Never doubt that."

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" He began pressing the gentlest of kisses onto her face, moving slowly downward.

"Mmm... say just the right thing all the time."

"I only say what is in my heart, dearest." He reached her neck and shifted to gentle nips, grinning in satisfaction as her breathing caught and she gave a high-pitched sigh of pleasure.

"Ru-uupert..."

"Muh-meeeee..." A tiny wail came from across the hall.

They groaned in unison. Without conscious effort, they both quested into the mind of their child, searching for pain, discomfort, or fear. Discontent was the only word Giles could think of. Buffy started to rise, but Giles said, "No, stay here. I’ll go."

"He’s calling for me, this time. Let me go see why, Mister Martyr."

He chuckled and lay back down to wait for her.

Buffy slipped her feet into her fuzzy slippers and moved soundlessly into the next room. Marcus was standing in his crib reaching for her when she arrived. She picked him up and checked his diaper, but he wasn’t in need of a change. He settled into her arms with a tiny sigh and buried his face into her neck. "Muh-mee..."

She held him for a while, then started to put him back in the crib. He clung to her tightly and cried, "Muh-mee nooooo!" Fresh tears welled up into his eyes. He wasn’t about to turn her loose.

"What’s wrong, sweetie baby? You’ve never been like this before!" She soothed the child a second time, and he quieted immediately.

Giles, sensing her consternation, threw on his robe and came into the room. He slid an arm around Buffy and stroked Marcus’ baby-fine hair with his free hand, trying to send comforting thoughts to his son. Marcus whimpered slightly and pushed himself upright, reaching for Daddy. Giles took him and held him close, unconsciously mimicking Buffy’s comforting embrace.

Marcus was confused. At first, Mommy was comfort, and Daddy was protection. Now Daddy was comfort, too. The child didn’t recognize his feelings as jealousy or insecurity, but he’d awakened as his parents were sharing warm, loving feelings, and, for some reason, he felt left out. Yet, now, here they were, comforting him with the same intensity. His new brain wasn’t quite able to understand the idea that both parents loved him as fiercely as they did each other, but as his father held him closely he could feel it, just the same. He began to relax, yawning widely as Giles continued to soothe him.

‘What do you think that was?’ Buffy thought, turning her head up and resting her chin on Giles’ chest. She studied the drowsy baby’s face as he fell back into a comfortable slumber against his father’s shoulder. ‘It’s like he had to have both of us in here to feel safe.’

Giles carefully laid the infant down in the crib, arranging the blanket quietly. They watched for a minute to be sure he was fast asleep, then pulled her towards the door. After they’d crossed the hall and climbed back into bed, he said, in a distracted voice that signaled the depth of his concentration, "I believe he’s beginning to sense our individuality. I felt confusion coming from him until he had received reassurance from the both of us."

"Armchair psychologist," she accused fondly.

He laughed at her mismatched metaphors. "I’d be all too happy to hear your theory."

"Sure. We were making with the smoochies, and he was jealous."

Giles looked at her in surprise. "You think?"

She slid against him and began toying with his chest hair. "I think."

"Surely not... jealous?"

"Well, he wasn’t all the way asleep. We started too soon." She noted his frown, and added, in her best Giles-ish voice, "you doubt my veracity?"

He grinned widely, partly from her dead-on imitation of his accent, and partly because of where her hands were heading. "Merely expressing a differing opinion, my dear."

"You wanna test my theory?"

He groaned as her mouth began exploring where her hands had been. "I-ah-think he might be truly... ah... asleep this time."

"So, we’ll have to test my theory again when he’s awake, won’t we?"

A muffled moan was his only reply.

********

At two thirty the next afternoon, during a frenzied bout of housework that Buffy was trying to finish, the doorbell rang. She bit back a growl of frustration and said to Marcus, "Stay put, sweetie... Mummy has to answer the door. It’s Wild Bill."

Marcus seemed to agree with her assessment, and turned back to his toys. She strode down the hall and threw open the door without checking the peephole. "Hey, Bill. You’re way early."

"Oh, sorry, Ma’am, I..."

She gaped at him in astonishment. "Ma’am? Ma’am? Bill, Bill, Bill. What am I gonna do with you?"

"Well... let me in?"

She laughed and stood back. "You’re already loosening up. Must be Xander and Willow’s good influence on you." She gestured towards the living room, and he seated himself in the armchair.

Marcus looked up when the Observer entered, and gave a preoccupied smile before returning to his play. Bill leaned forward and greeted the child warmly. "Hello, Marcus. What are we playing today?"

Marcus demonstrated by continuing. His face fell into a comical mask of concentration as he attempted to stack his toys. It was a difficult chore... the odd sized pieces wouldn’t stay put. He had been working hard at his task for a half hour or so, and Buffy had stifled the urge to help him several times. As she stared, something occurred to her, and it stopped her short of the couch.

"Oh, my God..."

Armstead stood immediately. "Is... is something wrong?" He resisted the urge to touch her shoulder.

"I can’t feel him... he’s concentrating... oh, wow... he’s blocking me! He can block me... I gotta call Giles!" She whirled, then stopped again. "I wonder if I can break the block..." She frowned, effort plain on her face. After a second or two of her effort, Marcus suddenly looked up. "Muh-mee?" he said, tentatively, uncertain how to take this new development.

"It’s okay, honey. Mummy was just checking on you. Go ahead and play."

Marcus smiled and returned to his project, his face relaxing before settling into its former expression.

Bill said softly, "It’s amazing how quickly he responds to your reassurances."

Buffy was still overwhelmed by her discovery. She turned again and picked up the telephone behind her, punching in Giles’ number without thinking. It rang twice, then clicked over to his voice mail. "Darn. He’s still in class... I forgot... Oh, hey, babe, it’s me. Marcus learned something new today... you wouldn’t believe what he did! But, I’ll tell you when you get home, okay? Love you! Bye!" She dropped the phone back onto its cradle and turned back to Bill. She started to speak, but froze before a word was uttered.

Bill was feeling completely bewildered. Most of what was going on involved their mysterious Bond, something with which he was still unfamiliar. The speed with which their thoughts were shared was bewildering. "Uh... Mrs., I mean, Buffy..."

"Something downstairs? Baby, what do you mean?" Buffy’s thoughts were a million miles away from Bill as she stared at Marcus intently. He was frowning fearfully and looking down at the floor as if it would rise up and bite him. He gave a short cry of frustration and began waving his arms in an agitated manner.

Buffy tried again. "Is it something downstairs? Marcus, I can’t understand... I’m trying..."

Marcus flailed his arms again until he knocked over his sippy cup. Juice spilled out onto the carpet, and suddenly, he had his analogy. He played the spill over and over in his mind until his mother’s eyes lit up with comprehension. "Uh oh! Something’s spilled in the basement!" She grabbed him up, ignoring the juice stains, and headed for the stairs leading down into the laundry room. She didn’t even pause to see if Bill was following.

Bill wasn’t. His fastidious nature got the best of him, and he dashed into the kitchen for paper towels.

* * * * *

When Buffy got to the bottom of the stairs, instead of touching the concrete floor, her foot slid into cold water. She gasped and shrieked, "LEAK! It’s a major WATER LEAK!" All she could think of was the pile of laundry she’d just sorted and folded. It was completely soaked in the basket. She kicked off her loafers and waded down into the room, hissing at the cold water, intent on finding the source of the leak before her house floated away. Marcus was babbling excitedly, making absolutely no sense as he surveyed the rising tide with wide eyes. Mummy didn’t like this, and he wasn’t too crazy about it, either.

"Bill! I need some help! Can you call a plumber? Any plumber, at this point?" Buffy wasn’t even sure he was within earshot, but she couldn’t be in two places at once, since there wasn’t a phone in the basement. Actually... she needed him to come get Marcus. She looked down at him, and he stared solemnly back. "Sweetie baby, would you let Bill hold you until I can get this leak stopped? I promise it won’t be long."

Marcus looked confused, but not frightened, so she sloshed back to the stairs and shouted up, "Hey, Bill! Before you make with the phoneage, could you come and get Marcus? I don’t wanna get him all wet."

Bill edged down the stairs, eyeing the growing disaster with horror. How could she stay so calm? "Do you suppose he would allow me? I’m not Willow or Xander."

"I asked him, and I think he’ll be okay. Here." She handed Marcus up to him, noting with amusement that Bill made sure he didn’t get anything wet while taking the child from her. Bill settled the infant in his arms and started back up the stairs. Marcus’ doubtful gaze stayed on his mother until she was out of sight.

Once he’d cleared the stairs, Bill looked down at the baby in his arms. "Well, at least you can’t be any more frightened of me than I am of you, little lad." Marcus’ face shifted into a more sympathetic look, and he gave the British ex-pilot an uncertain smile. "A smile for me? How lovely. You’re a good lad, then, aren’t you?" Marcus took Bill’s descent into baby talk in stride, and favored the man with several snaggle-toothed smiles as they returned to the living room to find a phone book.

********

When Giles turned onto his street, he saw Bill Armstead’s little rental parked in his driveway, and despite his famous British reserve, inside, he began to seethe. What was that idiot doing in his house, with his wife, while he wasn’t home? His mind surged ahead, seeking Buffy’s thoughts, but found himself blocked by a wall of intense concentration. Despite his complete trust in Buffy, he was red-faced and steaming by the time he got to the front door. He growled to himself, "There’d better be a good explanation for this..." as he dropped his briefcase and jacket on the hall tree bench and started into the living room. He hadn’t taken three steps before he heard Marcus cry, "Dah-dee!! Muh-mee wet!"

"Mummy’s what?" Giles was grabbed around the ankle by a babbling baby just as Armstead rose from the couch, looking intimidated, but determined. "What are you doing here, Armstead?"

"Muh-mee wet!" Marcus tugged on his father’s pants leg insistently. "Uh-oh!"

Giles face softened as he scooped the baby into his arms. "Uh-oh? Wet? You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you, love?"

Marcus nodded vigorously.

Armstead shifted his feet, but began his explanation before Giles glare at him again. "I, uh, arrived early. Turns out it was fortuitous I did... something in the basement sprung a leak just after I arrived, and I’ve been calling the service companies and entertaining Marcus while Buffy tried to find the source of the leak. She’s downstairs now, and hopefully, a plumber is on the way..."

"A water leak? Buffy doesn’t know anything about plumbing!" Giles shifted the baby to one side and headed for the basement.

Armstead followed at a safe distance. "She probably knows more than I do..."

The water had reached the top of the second step when Giles started down the stairs. When he got far enough into the room, he could see Buffy stretched out across the washer and dryer, her arm down behind the appliances. She sent him a reassuring greeting, albeit a short one, and called cheerfully, "Hey, babe, I found the leak, but I can’t find anything strong enough to hold it, except for me, and my hand isn’t big enough. Bill, did you get a plumber?"

"I believe one is on the way. I was quite adamant." A touch of pride crept into Armstead’s voice, and Buffy grinned.

"I’m sure you were, Bill. Thanks. Boy, I’m soaking wet! Can someone get me a towel, or maybe a couple of towels? The ones I just dried are floating around here somewhere..." She waved at the growing pool surrounding her. "I just don’t think they’d do much good."

Giles stifled the urge to wade over to her, and asked instead, "Where is the leak, exactly? Above or below the shutoff valve? And, did you unplug everything? You could get a nasty shock."

"Yeah, I unplugged first thing... uh, shutoff valve? What shutoff valve? You mean this sticking-out-thing with a knob on it?"

He sighed patiently, ignoring Armstead’s muffled chuckle. Marcus had been surprisingly quiet, taking in the scene without wiggling or babbling. Giles looked down at him, concerned, but saw that the child was mesmerized by the swirling water that whirlpooled down into the storm drain in the center of the room. The water was pouring out of the leak too fast to drain away. "Yes, the sticking-out-thing with a knob on it is a shutoff valve. There is one on both the hot and cold taps. Is the leak above or below the valves?" He had another sudden thought. "Is it in the hot or cold line, or both?"

‘Of all the stupid things... the shutoff valve was right there... here I was trying to patch the pipe...’ Aloud, she answered her husband’s questions in order, "The leak is above. It’s in the cold water pipe, and I can’t quite reach the shutoff valve. My arms are too short. I’m gonna have to move the washer."

"Hold on and I’ll help. We need to move quickly, or we’re going to need new appliances. I don’t think the renter’s insurance includes flood damage." Giles gritted his teeth and turned to Armstead, trying to ignore the stab of jealousy that was still lingering. "Would you mind..."

"Of course not. Marcus and I have been getting on famously, haven’t we, lad?" He took the baby from Giles and settled him against his side. Giles slipped out of his shoes and socks and rolled his pants legs up as high as he could, feeling ridiculous. He waded into the dark water, hissing at the chilly temperature.

When he got to her side, Buffy pulled him down for a quick kiss, then slid back so he could examine the pipes behind the appliances for himself. He grimaced and said, "I doubt we’ll be able to repair that ourselves. Good thinking, having Armstead call the plumber so quickly, love."

"Thank you. It’s nice to know my panic had a sense of direction."

"All right, we’re going to have to move the washer. It would be easier if you weren’t on top of it."

Buffy eyed the water with trepidation. "It’s cold, isn’t it?"

He didn’t even try to mislead her. "Like ice, actually. I can no longer feel my toes."

"Oh, joy. At least I’m wearing shorts." She grimaced and gasped as her feet touched the surface. "AHHH! I HATE THIS!"

He grinned and leaned closer before whispering, "Warm you up later, love, if you like."

"I’ll hold you to that. Now, let’s get this done so the rats can surf."

"We don’t have rats... ah, do we?"

"None with surf boards... c’mon, hurry! I’m freezing!"

Together, they pulled the partially full washer away from the wall, and Giles hurried to turn off both valves as they were both sprayed thoroughly with cold water. Buffy shrieked loudly, chilled to the bone, and Giles growled as the stubborn valve slowly gave way to his strength and blocked the flow of water until it was a tiny trickle. He was glad he’d left his coat in the hall... his shirt front was soaked through.

They both gave a huge sigh of relief and turned to face Bill, who was still hovering in the middle of the stairs. Marcus was clapping his hands in glee, feeling their triumph and expressing it for them. They started gathering towels and floating objects as they waded back towards the stairs, not noticing Armstead’s expression at first. He was, to put it mildly, stunned.

Giles glanced up at the Observer, wondering what he was staring at. He followed the younger man’s gaze until he saw Buffy... and her T-shirt. Her nearly transparent, wet and clinging white T-shirt. Her transparent, wet and clinging T-shirt that revealed just how cold she really was. He allowed himself a scant second of appreciative staring, himself, before realizing that there was another man in the room. He bit off a rather potent curse and did an abrupt about-face, sending a searing glare at the younger man. His voice was several degrees colder than the water he was standing in as he grated, "What are you staring at, you young fool?"

Armstead snapped his eyes away from the mesmerizing sight and started stammering as an obviously irate Giles started up the stairs towards him. He backed up the stairs as Giles advanced, holding Marcus in front of him like a shield. Behind them, a highly embarrassed Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, shivered, and followed, anxious to get out of the icy water and into some dry clothes.

She decided she’d better intervene on Bill’s behalf, before her dripping husband ripped the poor man’s head off his shoulders and tossed it into the garbage. "Rupert, honey, don’t kill him. We’ve got enough mess in here already." She watched with amusement as Giles backed Armstead all the way back up the stairs and into the living room, ignoring the puddles of water left by every step. Marcus couldn’t decide to laugh with Mummy or get angry with Daddy, so he just watched quietly. He figured Bill would be leaving soon, one way or the other.

In Bill Armstead’s frightened mind, Giles appeared to be looming over him, glowering. Thoughts of the stories he was told about Giles’ Ripper persona, fearful tales told by upperclassmen at the Watcher’s training camp came back to him in a rush. If half of what he was told was true, he’d best stop putting his foot in it and start apologizing... again... for making the man angry in his own house. The back yard was large and secluded enough to hide a body without anyone knowing about it... and there were spells that left no body at all.

"S-s-sir?" He winced inwardly at the pathetic tremble in his voice. ‘I must get control of myself,’ he thought firmly. "Mr. Giles, I am truly sorry. I was only trying to help... although, in retrospect, I suppose it did not appear that way." Marcus picked up Armstead’s fear, and looked up at him with sympathy. The tiny boy reached up and patted the man’s face, attempting to comfort him. He was beginning to like Bill Armstead. He was the only person Marcus knew that got in trouble more than Marcus himself did.

Giles seemed unconvinced. He’d backed the younger man into the living room, just behind the couch. Over Giles’ shoulder, Buffy complained, "You never did get me a towel. I’m dripping on the polyurethane. And so are you, babe."

Her words finally penetrated the angry haze in Giles’ brain. He half turned, still glowering at the other man, and said to her, in a deceptively soft voice, "I’ll meet you in the kitchen, then, all right?"

"Yeah, great. At least the linoleum is waterproof." She sloshed into the hall and into the kitchen, grinning and teasing Giles with her amused thoughts about Caveman Giles. He stared at Armstead for another few seconds before following his wife into the other room. The squelching sounds of wet feet on the hardwood floor echoed down the hall, and was silenced by the closing kitchen door.

The Observer breathed a sigh of relief. He moved to the front of the couch and sat down, allowing Marcus to slide off his lap and onto the floor. The baby immediately spotted one of his toys, and headed for it, squealing with delight. Armstead watched the baby play, keeping a low-voiced commentary going as he waited for the parents to return. "Well, I’m not at all sure I’m going to be welcome in your house after this, Marcus. I seem to be constantly antagonizing your father. Not intentionally, I assure you... quite sorry about that, but, after all, your Mum is quite beautiful, and I can’t very well pluck my eyes out, now, can I?"

Marcus looked up at him and giggled. He waved a teething ring in Armstead’s direction, smiling happily. He tried to tell his new friend not to worry, that Mummy and Daddy weren’t the kind of people who held grudges.

"Dear me... I’m such a failure. Haven’t finished anything I’ve started, my entire life. Take my advice, lad, and stick to something, once you’ve decided. People will respect you far more if you do."

A solemn expression came over Marcus’ face, and he murmured, "Thow-wy."

"Did you say sorry? By Jove, a new word! Another new word! That makes three just this afternoon! That’s an excellent fellow!" He snatched his notebook and pen from his jacket pocket and slid down into the floor next to the child, beaming with pride. "Clever lad..." He reached out at gave the tiny head a quick caress, not realizing that Giles was watching from the doorway. As he began to write, he said softly, "You’ll make Mum and Dad proud one day, I do believe."

"He already has." Armstead started and looked up as Giles moved back into the room, wearing dry clothes and a pensive expression. "He’s much more forgiving and understanding than his father, that much is certain."

From his spot sitting on the floor, the younger man looked up and said, "I am dreadfully sorry to have embarrassed you and your wife. I... well, there’s no excuse, really."

Giles sat down in the armchair and smiled at Marcus. The baby knew his father’s black mood was dissipating, so he crowed, "Dah-dee!" and clapped his hands.

"Don’t worry, I promise not to throttle you, but strictly for my peace of mind; what were you doing here so early? Our appointment wasn’t until four thirty."

"I came directly from an interview for a local position at the public library. I’m not much for the books... that is why nothing ever came of my medical training, really, but I’m an excellent organizer. The interview ended rather quickly when I mentioned I was here on an open-ended visa. Apparently, they’ve had trouble keeping the position filled, so I was hired immediately."

Giles thought wistfully of his days as high school librarian. He missed it terribly, at times, but Buffy and Marcus more than made up for it. From upstairs, he heard Buffy’s affectionate response through the Bond, and smiled. She shared his sentiments. He tilted his head, watching Marcus stack his toys, more capable now that he’d gotten the hang of it. He glanced briefly at Armstead, nodded, and said, "Go on."

"Thank you. I had only just arrived when Buffy indicated that Marcus might be blocking her thoughts."

Before he could continue, Giles sat straight up in the chair. "He what??"

"Yes, that is why she called you. She had to concentrate to reach him. Apparently, about that time the pipe burst in the basement and Marcus sensed it, somehow. Remarkable, him sensing something like that... We rushed downstairs to find water everywhere, and she asked me to take Marcus and call a plumber while she attempted to stem the flow. I made several calls, and was just sitting down when you arrived."

Giles nodded slowly. That was more or less what Armstead had told him when he first came in, and Buffy had confirmed it while they were in the kitchen. He began to feel foolish. Jealousy was so... base. "I should apologize for allowing my temper to get the best of me." He stood and offered his hand. "Shall we put this behind us and go on?"

Armstead jumped to his feet and shook Giles’ hand enthusiastically. "By all means, sir. I seem to have a knack for embarrassing myself. I should have warned you early on."

Giles chuckled softly. "You should have been here when I first arrived. You’d have felt right at home."

********

"Actually, I thought he exhibited admirable restraint, given the circumstances." Armstead toyed with his sundae, idly swirling the chocolate sauce back and forth until the bottom of the dish was coated with a muddy brown goo. "He’s going to have to get accustomed to having men stare at his wife, I’m afraid. She can’t help being lovely."

"Oooo... Bill, you hit the nail on the head, there." Xander sympathized completely with his new friend. He’d been staring at Buffy since Junior High, and he’d been on the receiving end of many of Giles’ stern glares. Not that he’d ever try anything... she let him know right away they were just friends... but still...

"Welcome to the ‘Look, But Don’t Touch, and Don’t Look Too Much’ Club."

Xander had been a bit surprised to get a call from the newcomer, inviting him and Willow for lunch at the local diner. He suspected the man was lonely, being in a new country, and all. Xander liked Bill, despite his reserved manner. He suspected that Willow was warming up to the guy, too... big time.

"How do you stand it?" Bill asked earnestly. "Surrounded, as you are, by such beauty? Not just Buffy, but Willow..." His voice trailed off, his eyes going dreamy at the thought.

"And Anya. And you haven’t even met Cordelia... but that’s another story. It ain’t easy, believe me. But they’re my best friends, and they’ve saved my life a bunch of times. I’ve even saved theirs, on occasion. Say... did I detect a little extra Willow admiration in there? Bill! Are you thinking about making time with my red-headed best friend?"

Armstrong jumped slightly and began stammering.

Xander nodded wisely. "That’s what I thought. You better get yourself together, now, because said red-head is approaching from stage left." He broke into a wide grin and said, "Hey, Will! We almost gave up on ya."

"Sorry I’m late, guys. Mom was actually home when I got there. I had to do the obligatory Mother/Daughter luncheon and chat thing. She does that from time to time, so she won’t be embarrassed when her colleagues ask about me. Hi, Bill. It was nice of you to invite us, thank you." She sat next to Xander, favoring the Council Observer with a warm smile.

His heart skipped a beat. He fought a blush and managed to babble some semblance of a greeting before focusing on his partially melted dessert again.

Xander watched, barely able to contain himself. "Oooo, yeah, that’s a really bad case, there, Bill," he said softly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Case of what?" Willow asked, but was interrupted by the waitress. She ordered a mocha malt, and forgot about the question, much to Armstead’s relief. After the girl left the table, Willow asked, "So, Bill, are you all settled in? Your place okay? No ghosts or ghouls lurking around? No bumps in the night? This is Sunnydale, y’know."

Before Bill could reply, Xander interrupted, "Way to go Will... you’re gonna scare the guy off before the IRS knows he’s here."

"No, I’m not, silly, and the IRS probably watched him get off the plane. Anyway, Bill’s knows all about stuff like that. He’s a Watcher guy. He’s tough, right, Bill?" Willow’s luminous green eyes fixed Armstead with a trusting gaze.

His heart stopped beating all together, and he forgot to breathe for a few seconds. Finally, he managed to say, "Spot on. I’ve a job to do here, and I intend to do it." ‘And, if possible, work up the nerve to ask the young lady across from me for a date before we both grow old and gray,’ he added to himself. Aloud, he commented lightly, "Pardon me for asking, just what is the IRS, and why would they watch me disembark?"

The threesome chatted amiably for about a half hour, with Bill telling stories about school and RAF boot camp. Willow found herself captivated by the well-traveled young man. He seemed so urbane and sure of himself, while she was quivering inside like a frightened mouse. ‘He’ll never look twice at me, I bet,’ she told herself glumly. She did her best to hide her trepidation behind a sunny, friendly smile.

She had no idea just how far from the truth her thoughts were. Even when Xander excused himself from the table, stating he had to go to work early, winking at Armstead with a grin, she still didn’t catch on. Armstead’s next words caught her completely by surprise.

********

The telephone rang in the Giles household just after one thirty. Giles looked up from grading papers, slightly irritated at the interruption, but Buffy dashed from the kitchen and grabbed the phone before he could move. "I got it, babe... oh, hey, Will! What’s up?"

Her eyes grew round as she listened to her best friend’s news. "Oh, wow... he actually asked you? That’s so sweet... so, wha’d you say? You did? Hang on, this sounds like the start of some serious girl talk. I need to sit down." She handed the telephone to Giles, grinning widely. "Hang this up for me, I’m going upstairs. Bill just asked Willow for a date, and I may be on here a while."

He took the phone with an answering grin. "Did he, now? That’s interesting. Hello, Willow."

A tiny, embarrassed voice answered, "Hey, Giles."

Buffy called over her shoulder as she started up the stairs, "Interesting, nothing. It’s totally unbelievable. I thought Bill was the original Stone Watcher."

He waited patiently until Buffy got on the extension in the bedroom, then hung up gently. He looked at Marcus, asleep on his stomach on a quilt in the middle of the floor. He’d played himself to sleep before they could put him in his crib, so they left him there. He chuckled softly and thought, ‘That’s exactly what you thought of me, love, when we first met. ‘A textbook with arms,’ I believe you said.’

Buffy shushed him mentally, wanting to concentrate on Willow’s excited narrative. He smiled to himself and turned back to his work, glancing at his sleeping son every so often. He finished the mound of test papers before Buffy came back down, so he stacked them neatly and put a large binder clip on them. He dropped them into his briefcase and took it to the hall tree bench by the door. Everything was in place for Monday, he thought to himself as he returned to the couch.

Before he could decide what to do next, he yawned unexpectedly. He definitely could use a nap, he thought, but tried to stay awake to watch Marcus. An idea came to him, and he knelt by the tiny boy and picked him up gently. He returned to the couch, lay down with his head on the pillowed arm, and placed Marcus on his chest. He was asleep in just a few minutes, and Marcus slept, as well, content in his father’s arms.

When Buffy finally finished reassuring and encouraging Willow, she started back to the living room, intending to relieve Giles of watching the baby so he could finish his grading. When she got to the doorway, she stopped and took in the sight of the both of them, sound asleep together. All she could think of was, ‘Awwww, they’re so cute...’ She had a sudden idea, and crept to the cabinet to retrieve the little camera that they were using to capture Marcus’ memorable baby moments. ‘I need to ask for a camcorder for Christmas,’ she thought as she eased around to the front of the couch and aimed carefully.

The flash caught her by surprise, and she eeped quietly, hoping she hadn’t disturbed them. Giles simply opened one eye, saw her standing there, camera in hand, and gave her a resigned, if amused, look before closing the eye again.

Just to be facetious, she took several more, and caught his tiny, self-conscious grin perfectly on the third try.

She put the camera on the coffee table, still smiling and just stood there for a minute or two, looking at them. Her face grew wistful, and she came around to sit on the table, her knees touching the couch cushions. She watched Giles’ peaceful, contented face as he dozed, one arm curling protectively around Marcus, making sure he didn’t fall off the couch in his sleep. They were so precious to her at that moment that she was afraid to stir, to breathe, for fear they would disappear from her like morning fog.

At length, she slid from her sitting position down onto the floor, resting her head against her husband’s arm. He stirred slightly, then opened one eye again. He met her gaze and moved to brush his fingers against her cheek. She grasped his hand tightly and kissed his knuckles, her absolute love and devotion transmitting to him via their shared connection. She reached her other hand up and touched her son’s face, wondering for the millionth time at the softness of his baby skin. For a timeless moment, absolute peace reigned.

Two days later, there were three new photographs on the sofa table, proudly displayed in an ornate trifold frame. Buffy had taped a handwritten title to the center top. It read, "My Guys."

* * * * *

"It was just a demon!" Xander bellowed at his best friend.

"I’ve never seen one like that!" Willow snapped back, not ready to give in. "It had wings!"

"Doesn’t matter what kind." Faith tossed her stake into the air and caught it casually, tip pointed at just the right angle to pierce the heart of an opponent standing in front of her. "I find, I slay, I get congrats from the Watcher-man, and I party. Simple."

"But, you don’t know what type of demon it is, Faith." Buffy shifted Marcus into a more comfortable position. He was standing on one thigh, and it was beginning to get uncomfortable. "You don’t know for sure what will kill it. Better wait until Wes and Giles get back... they’re the book and bell boys."

Faith giggled at the image brought forth by that statement... Wesley tolling a huge bell with some dusty old volume that shed dust with every strike.

Willow plopped down on the couch, sighing impatiently. "If I had my laptop, I could probably have found the dumb thing already."

"But you don’t have your lightsaber now, do you, young Skywalker?" Xander intoned in his best Darth Vader voice, ducking out of arm’s reach as Willow swung a throw pillow at him. "Come over to the dark side of the Force!"

"Shut up, Xander. It was all your fault anyway."

"Mine? How?"

"It was your idea to skip the cemetery and go around the block. If you hadn’t, we’d probably be at the theater by now, watching a movie."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to avoid bloodshed on my only night off in weeks!"

"The guys had better get back soon, B, or I’m going cabin fever all over your living room." Faith stood, cracked her knuckles, and stretched, bouncing in place.

"You wanna spar a little?" Buffy surprised herself, saying that. She hadn’t worked out with anyone but Giles since Marcus was born. "I may be a little rusty, but..."

She saw the raw excitement in Faith’s eyes. She was itching for some action, and sparring might just take the edge off. "Yeah... sounds great. But where?"

"Follow me. Uh, Will, you mind...?" She pointed to Marcus, who had stopped his play to glance curiously at his mother. "Marcus, Mummy’s gonna go play with Faith. Will you stay here and play with Willow and Xander?"

Marcus thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded solemnly.

"Good boy. I’ll be back in a little while." The two Slayers headed for the exercise room, grinning.

Marcus pulled up to the couch and offered Willow a colorful block. "P’ay?" he asked sweetly.

"Sure, honey, I’ll play with you." Willow slid down into the floor, taking the block. "And so will Xander. Right, Xander?"

He rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked, and when he sat cross-legged across from Willow, Marcus laughed happily. Usually Mummy and Daddy took turns, because they were busy. He wasn’t used to having two friends play with him at once. This was fun.

In the other room, Buffy and Faith squared off, deciding on light hand-to-hand combat to start out with. By mutual consent, they agreed to take it easy. Faith didn’t even make a crack about Buffy being out of shape, which was uncharacteristically restrained of her. They began slowly, using the basic forms gleaned from the mish-mash of martial arts the Watcher’s Council taught.

They’d begun to warm up when Buffy felt the familiar tug of Giles’ consciousness in her mind. She grinned widely and concentrated on staying ahead of the younger girl’s blows, knowing that Faith probably sensed Wesley, although not with the same intensity.

As the two men approached Giles’ front door with Giles in the lead, he stopped suddenly, causing Wesley to almost run into him. Wesley regained his composure quickly, and said, "Mr. Giles? Is something wrong."

"Didn’t you hear that?" Giles turned, searching the shadows.

"Hear what?"

The older man scanned the yard nervously, squinting as if it would help him see in the darkness. "Willow and Xander did encounter a demon earlier tonight..."

Wesley made a disparaging noise, and scoffed, "Those two... they seem to see demons behind every stone. Besides, that was on the other side of the..."

Suddenly Giles whirled, and Wesley gave a chirp of surprise as a figure strode purposefully up the walk to them. "Good evening, Mr. Giles... Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. Lovely night."

Giles relaxed instantly, suppressing a grin at Wesley’s gasp of relief. "Armstead. I didn’t expect you tonight."

"Quite right, of course... but Willow called. She said something about research... I thought I might assist."

Wesley recovered quickly, and responded, with his usual smooth tones, "Excellent. We can’t have too many pairs of eyes when it comes to research." He turned back towards the door, anxious to get out of the exposed yard and into the relative safety of Giles’ home.

A soft rustle caught all three men’s attention, and they froze. Giles once again made a slow sweep of the area before turning back towards the other two. "It might be the wind, but I keep feeling we’re being watched."

Armstead opened his mouth to make a comment, when the bushes at the side of the house rustled wildly, then parted. "GOOD LORD!" the Observer shrieked, as a hideously ugly, pale orange demon began leaping towards them at high speed. All three of them fell into a defensive stance, forming a triangle just far enough apart to present a difficult target.

The creature sniffed the air, as if deciding who was the tastier of the three, then pounced.

Several things happened at once. Wesley screamed loudly as he was bowled over by the demon. Inside the house, Buffy and Faith instantly spun from their fighting stances and ran, knowing their Watchers were in danger. Willow and Xander jumped up, hearing the noise outside, just as Buffy and Faith both barreled past them on their way to the front door.

Willow just had time to notice that both girls were carrying short swords before Buffy nearly tore the door off its hinges. The two non-slaying humans jumped to their feet, ready to assist, but Faith whirled and snapped, "Stay! Slayer business!" before leaping through the doorway and disappearing into the night.

Ever practical, Willow jumped up and ran for the entryway, intending to close the door. Demons didn’t need an invitation to come in! Xander followed, more interested in getting a look at the action than playing defense. They both gasped as they saw the demon batting the men around like playthings. A well placed kick from Buffy got its attention in a hurry, though.

"It’s the same one!" The petite redhead watched with appreciation as Buffy and Faith ganged up on the monster and began pummeling it unmercifully.

"Yeah, uglier than ever."

"The wings are useless. It can’t fly..."

"...but it can jump! Look at that! Oh, ouch... that’s gotta hurt."

Willow glanced around, and exclaimed, "Marcus! Xander, where’s Marcus?"

"I thought you had him!"

Willow slammed the door shut, almost catching Xander’s nose in the process. She ran back into the living room, calling Marcus’ name. He wasn’t in the floor where they’d left him. She peered around the furniture, looked down the hall and in the kitchen. No Marcus. She was beginning to get worried when Xander called out, "Here he is... he’s watching the show."

Marcus had crawled under the curtains onto the window seat in front of the picture window, and was pressed against the glass. His breath fogged the glass around his face, then disappeared as he gulped for breath. It was as if he was sharing the action with his parents. The instant the two Slayers got the upper hand, his little body began to relax.

Willow didn’t want the tiny child to witness the beheading of an ugly old demon, so she scooped him up and headed back to his play area. "Hey, buster, you’re a little young for an ‘R’ rated slaying. C’mon, Mommy will be done in a minute, then we can have some ice cream!"

Marcus was looking back over her shoulder, trying to see out the window as they moved farther into the house. Willow’s words caught his attention, however, and he pushed away to look at her, saying tentatively, "I’ c’eam?"

"You betcha, Markie. Mommy and Daddy will be ready for dessert after all that exercise. Let’s go get the bowls, okay?"

A small grin spread across the baby’s face. He nodded, but continued to watch the doorway, not completely distracted by Willow’s efforts.

Willow gave him a quick hug before making good on her promise. She’d begun dishing up the cold treats when the front door opened. She put Marcus down and ran to the hall to see how things had fared. "Oh, wow... you guys are shredded." She watched the slow parade of victors as they limped into the living room. Buffy was supporting her husband with an arm around his waist. Faith was right behind her with Wes, his hand held tightly over his ribcage.

"Yes, well, you should see the other fellow," Giles quipped as he limped over and sat down on one end of the couch. His shirt was torn, one sleeve was missing, his face was bruised and scratched. Wesley collapsed on the other end, looking somewhat less abused, but equally uncomfortable, with a livid bruise under one eye and a tattered pants leg. Marcus immediately crawled over to his parents and pulled up beside them, his eyes round and frightened. Giles patted the child’s back, and said soothingly, "Daddy and Mummy are fine, Marcus, don’t worry." He stroked the tiny head gently, and Marcus responded with a relieved smile.

Willow looked around, suddenly realizing that someone was missing. "Hey, did you guys see Bill out there? He was supposed to come, and he’s late..."

Giles tried to look innocent, despite Buffy’s glare of warning, but there was a teasing lilt to his voice as he replied, "Bill? Bill who?"

"Rupert..." Buffy warned, as she moved to the cabinet and began gathering soft cloths and first-aid supplies. She came back into the room and handed Wes a cloth and some antiseptic before turning to examine her husband’s injuries with a critical eye. She automatically made room for Marcus to crawl up onto the couch beside her. He lay his head in her lap and sighed, as if to say, ‘Everybody’s okay, now I can stop worrying.’

Wesley must have been riding a wave of adrenaline-induced euphoria, because he added, "Wasn’t that the fellow on the sidewalk? The one who screamed?"

"Guys! Where’s Bill?" Willow’s voice took on an irritated edge.

"No, I believe it was you who screamed, Wesley." Buffy decided Giles wasn’t hurt too badly, if he had the energy to bait Willow and Wesley at the same time.

"That was not a scream. It was merely a battle cry." Wesley managed to sound haughty despite his aching side.

"Thank you for clearing that up. I stand corrected." Sarcasm fairly dripped from Giles’ voice.

"Guys? Back to the subject, please?" Willow begged.

"Sorry, Willow, we were a bit distracted, for a moment. Who were you looking for, again?"

"Giles!" Willow’s voice cracked slightly, moving into the higher registers.

Wes began to feel sorry for Willow. She was obviously concerned about the young man. He was just about to let her off the hook when a polite voice came from the front entrance. "Excuse me, may I come in? The door is open."

Willow sprang from her seat and ran over to him, giving him an over-enthusiastic hug before releasing him and backing away in embarrassment. "Oh, I’m sorry, I was just... I’m just really glad you’re okay, and... uh... hi."

He beamed down at her, only slightly disheveled, and tried not to look embarrassed himself. "Hello, Willow. That was quite a welcome. Thank you for being concerned."

"Well, these guys are used to Sunnydale’s night life... You haven’t been here all that long, and I was a little worried... just a little, that’s all."

Their eyes met, and their smiles became gentle and sweet. Without changing expression, he explained, "I was designated as clean-up crew, since I was the only one left without a limp."

From her comfortable position sprawled across the back of the couch, Faith remarked, "He had a few dozen pieces to pick up, too. Buffy doesn’t take too kindly to baddies roughing up her honey."

Buffy looked up from tending to Giles’ face, and said softly, "Neither do you, from what I saw."

Faith shrugged and tossed her hair back. "Well, duh. Don’t want some stupid demon damaging the merchandise." She arched an eyebrow at Wesley, and he blushed vividly, despite his flattered grin.

Willow suddenly remembered what she was doing before the warriors came back in. "Oh! I was making ice cream! Be right back!" She whirled and ran into the kitchen, both to finish the desserts and to escape her self-consciousness.

Buffy quipped, "Well, at least the baddie didn’t cancel our dessert. Then I would’ve been really mad."

********

After the friendly crowd had left, Buffy gathered the empty bowls and started for the kitchen. Giles carefully picked a sleeping Marcus up and started to stand, wincing at the pain in his leg. Must’ve twisted something, he thought as he hobbled upstairs to put the baby in his crib.

By the time he’d finished tucking his son in, Buffy had dropped the last spoon into the dishwasher. They met in the hall, and stared at each other for a long moment, their eyes and thoughts expressing relief and love. Finally, Buffy spoke. "I guess it’s obvious that Marcus doesn’t feel all our ‘owies’ like he feels our emotions, or he’d still be crying."

"Thank Heaven for that. I couldn’t bear it." He moved closer, pulling her to his chest in a warm hug. She sighed and melted into him, loving the feeling of security she felt. Despite her superior strength, Rupert’s presence meant home and safety to her.

Ignoring his discomfort, he tightened his hold, relishing the peace and quiet. On a whim, he whispered, teasingly, "May I have this dance, Mrs. Giles?"

"What about your leg?"

"I’ll manage."

She tilted her head up to look at him, and nodded, with a glint in her eyes. "But there’s no music."

"I can take care of that, as well..." softly, he began singing, swaying her to the sound of his voice. She clung to him and closed her eyes, losing herself in the quiet bliss of the moment. There seemed to be so many wonderful moments, with him.

She smiled as she recognized the song he was singing. Trust him to be all mushy and romantic, and to top it off with a Country and Western song... yet, somehow, it was perfect. She sighed as he sang, and snuggled more closely against him, listening to his heartbeat, the sound of his breathing... everything that told her he was alive, and hers.

"I’ll always remember

The song they were playing

The first time I danced, and I knew,

As we swayed to the music

And held to each other

I fell in love with you.

Could I have this dance

For the rest of my life?

Would you be my partner

Every night?

When we’re together

It feels so right.

Could I have this dance

For the rest of my life?

I’ll always remember

That magic moment

When I held you close to me.

As we moved together

I knew forever

You’re all I’ll ever need.

Could I have this dance

For the rest of my life?

Would you be my partner

Every night?

When we’re together

It feels so right.

Could I have this dance

For the rest of my life?"

* * *