__The Ones Who Care__
By Jolene Beasley



"I tell you, Will, he’s driving me crazy!"

"But Buffy, he’s just being careful..."

"He’s morphed into Psycho-Husband. I can’t even go to the store... I guess he’s afraid I might pick up a bar of soap and strain myself."

"That’s so, well, sweet is the only word I can think of, and I’m supposed to have a college-level vocabulary."

The sun was shining cheerfully through the kitchen window, but Buffy wasn’t in a cheery mood. She shifted the telephone to the other ear and continued chopping vegetables as she talked. "I miss you guys. You never come over any more. It’s like, ‘Buffy’s gonna be a Mommy, so she doesn’t need her buddies any more’... and that so not true!"

Willow’s voice took on a pleading tone. "You know it’s not that way, Buff. It’s just, with semester finals, and all, we’ve been so busy... you have, too, and so has Giles, with all the tests and term papers and stuff... it’s not that we don’t wanna hang out, it’s that we don’t have time to hang out, on a planned basis, anyway. And, well, you were kinda sick, there, for a while, and it was hard to hang out while you were in the bathroom puking up your heels."

"I know, Will, it was gross beyond belief. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to whine, I’m just being a little... whatever. I guess my hormones are acting up again. Being a Slayer is great until you get pregnant, then everything goes fruity bonkers on you. It’s a wonder Giles can stand to live in the same house with me, as nutty as I get." Buffy reached for another bell pepper and stabbed it angrily, thinking of all the strange cravings she’d been having lately. "Last Friday I begged him at midnight to get me an ice cream sandwich. You know, the kind with the chocolate cookie outside and the vanilla ice cream inside? Poor guy, he was so tired, but he just put on his shoes and went to the store. By the time he got back, I was sound asleep. I don’t know how he puts up with it."

"Oh, I think Giles likes living with you just fine. He goes around with this totally sappy moon-struck look on his face all the time, and if you wanna see him smile, I mean a really truly big smile, all you gotta do is ask about you an’ the baby, and he practically gushes. I’m surprised he doesn’t take out his wallet and show the ultrasound picture at every opportunity."

"That’s only ‘cause after the hundredth time he whipped that picture out I made him leave it at home. He is so totally amazed by the whole thing. Well, amazed isn’t a strong enough word. Freaked. That’s it. He’s just happy-freaked by the whole thing. You shoulda seen him when we found out it was a boy. He was so cute and giddy, I think even Mom forgave him for knockin’ me up before I got my degree."

"Hey, I have an idea! Why don’t we get together this Friday night and have a little ‘girl’s night out’ time? Just you and me? We’ll eat, then hit the mall. It’ll be fun!"

Buffy smiled as she imagined her friend bouncing in place. ‘That’s what she always does when she gets excited,’ she thought affectionately. "Sounds great to me! It’s been, what, like, three or four weeks since we got together and yakked? A little food, a little shopping, and a lot of juicy gossip is just what I need."

"How about pizza?"

"I had pizza for lunch three days this week. There’s a pizza place between the University and City College, and Giles has been bringing a fresh salad every day from home, to be sure I eat ‘something actually nutritious.’ It’s hilarious. He must think I’d live on Snicker bars and Cheetos, if it wasn’t for him."

"Okay, pizza’s out. Mexican?"

"Mexican is cool, as long as I don’t have to wear that silly hat."

"But, it looks soooo cute..."

"Will, I’m gonna be somebody’s mother. I have to have a little dignity. Forget it." Buffy crinkled her nose at the phone.

"Okay, we’re running out of choices, here. Italian?"

"Too expensive. I’m kinda on a tight budget. Giles is getting all the baby furniture, and fixing up the room, so he’s kinda tapped out right now. I won’t be able to work for a while after the baby comes, so I need to save up. Well, I’ll probably be able, I just won’t want to right away."

"Well, that only leaves one place. Shoney’s? They have a dinner special."

"Shoney’s it is. Seven o’clock okay?"

"Yeah, sounds great. See ya soon!"

Buffy smiled as she hung up the phone. A few hours away from Mr. Careful might be nice. He was gonna be busy grading papers, anyway. Besides, everyone has to eat. She returned to her vegetables, still smiling.

********

The restaurant was packed to almost overflowing with Friday night customers when Buffy arrived, a few minutes late. She hoped Willow had been smart enough to come early and reserve them a table. Her lunch had long since been used up, and she was starving. She contemplated tossing a few competitive diners out the door and into the nearby bushes, but feared they might wake up before she finished eating, so she shrugged the idea off. Instead, she stood in line with all the other hungry people there, and listened to her stomach growl.

‘Too bad I’m not showing much, yet,’ she mused to herself. ‘If I was, I could cut the line on the sympathy ticket.’ Buffy still worked out with Giles every day, and was still teaching her Tae Bo class at the gym downtown, so the only evidence of her pregnancy was a slightly protruding tummy. Dr. Stevenson assured her at every exam that she was progressing perfectly, and that the baby was growing just fine inside her slender body. She’d read all the books Giles brought home, though, so she knew the next trimester would be the biggie for weight gain. She wasn’t looking forward to that at all.

The only thing she was looking forward to was dinner. The waiting was driving her crazy.

Just before her kettle boiled over, she spied Willow waving furiously over the hostess’s head. She shot a triumphant look at the people around her, and pushed her way through the crowd to the hostess’s little desk.

Catching the other girl’s eye, Buffy said, "My friend is already here. Can I go on in?"

The perpetually bored look on the hostess’s face did not change as she looked over at Willow standing by a clean table. "Yeah, go on." She said, and went back to her waiting list.

Buffy left the confusion of the foyer for the confusion of the busy restaurant. She dodged a waitress loaded with plates and made her way to Willow’s side. At least, this madhouse had a place to sit. She hugged Willow warmly, then sat down across from her with a relieved sigh.

"What time did the tour buses get here, Will?" Buffy eyed the packed room, wondering if they should just leave.

"Oh, it’s like this every weekend. There’s a dinner special, two for one. Everybody comes here."

"Everyone except me and Giles, and now I know why. Look at this crowd! We could’ve already been eating at the Mall."

"Eat standing up? At Corn Dog Heaven? No, thanks. I’m ready for a real meal, and it won’t cost much, with the special thing. Besides, if Giles heard I fed you junk food, he’d forbid me to speak to you until after the baby is born." Willow rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "This place has good old fashioned grub. Beats that strange concoction they serve in the lunchroom."

"Amen to that! Giles won’t even let me eat there. He can give about fifteen reasons why pregnant women shouldn’t eat off an open buffet line. He brings me stuff that’s fresh."

"That’s so sweet! He’s just the greatest, isn’t he?"

Buffy rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, he’s great. Really. Unless he’s getting on my nerves."

"I can’t imagine Giles getting on anyone’s nerves. He’s so patient and soothing."

"Soothing? Well, maybe sometimes, but it’s definitely not soothing when he’s giving me the weekly ‘You’re expecting and you have to be doubly careful’ lecture." Buffy sighed and fiddled with her water glass. "It’s not like I’m going out and jumping off bridges or anything like that. Now he’s worried about my Tae Bo class."

Willow tilted her head and smiled in sympathy. "He’s just being Giles. He’s probably read in some book somewhere about a woman losing her baby due to excessive exercise."

"It’s not excessive... it’s normal. I’ve being doing this since way before I got pregnant. It would be excessive to quit. If I totally stopped exercising, I’d probably turn into a bloated cow, and have to wear muumuus all the time. Cow? Moo-moo? God, Willow, I’m making Xander jokes now!"

Willow laughed. "Oh, but that was cute, even if it did sound kinda Xander-ish. And I can’t picture you in a muumuu. Well, I can, actually, but it’s too weird of an image to talk about."

"If Giles has anything to say about it, you’ll be seeing it in the flesh pretty soon. He’s such a worry-wart. I’m the Mommy-to-be, it’s not like I’d do anything to hurt my own baby!"

"Oh, you know he doesn’t think that."

"I know, it just seems that way sometimes. He’s like, the Ralph Nader of the OB ward!"

Willow giggled, and Buffy finally joined her. "I’m gonna stop whining now, I promise."

"You’re not whining, you’re venting. There’s a difference. You have to vent sometimes. That’s what best friends are for. So, do you feel better now that you’ve vented?"

"A little. Thanks, Will. Now, let’s talk about something a little less vent-some now."

"Okay. Have you come up with a name yet?"

Buffy shrugged and waggled her hand back and forth in a ‘maybe’ gesture. "We’ve talked about names, which isn’t to say we’ve agreed on any. He wants to get completely away from traditional British names, but I kinda like having the link to his past, even though it’s not much. See, we’re here, and his family is all but gone now, and there’s nothing much Giles-ish for the kid to hang on to. I wanted him to have... I dunno, a heritage, or something. Besides just the last name, I mean."

"Makes sense to me. I’m surprised Giles doesn’t agree."

"Me, too. I never expected him to go non-traditional on me. He’s dead set against a junior, I know that. He wants either plain, like David or John, or contemporary, like Evan, or Brendan, or Cole. I like Marcus. Or Everett. Or even Robert. Or..."

Willow held up a hand. "I get the picture. So, is Giles all proud about having a boy?"

"I think he’s more relieved than proud. He was worried about a firstborn daughter having a weird call on her, or something. The boys don’t have that kind of automatic stigma going for them. Even the Watcher thing is up to the parents, when all is said and done."

"But... what if you have another baby, and it’s a girl? Oh, forget I asked that, Buffy, that sounded awful! Let’s not even go there."

"No, it’s okay, it’s nothing he and I haven’t already gone over a thousand times, Will, believe me. The second born doesn’t have the prophecy stuff to worry about, according to Giles. But I’m gonna wait on the decision about more babies until I survive this one."

"I can’t get over how you still call him ‘Giles’ when you talk about him, but you call him Rupert when you talk to him."

"I know. Weird habit. He doesn’t seem to mind."

"I don’t think he’d mind if you called him Rasputin the Mad. The man is head-over-heels, and I don’t think he’s ever gonna get over that."

"The feeling’s mutual. I love the stuffy old’ Brit. He could call me Hildegarde, and I’d come running. I am one lucky ex-Slayer, Willow. I’m well aware of the fact."

They paused just long enough for a harried waitress to take their order, then Willow continued the conversation smoothly.

"Giles is so sweet. I just wish I had a sweet guy like that, to fuss over me."

"You have a sweet guy! You have Oz. He’s a great guy."

Willow gazed down into her plate, a wistful expression on her face. "Yeah, he is, but I just wish..."

"Will? What? Something wrong in the magical land of Oz? Talk to me."

"Oh, I don’t know. I just wish he’d get more serious. I know, we’re in college, and I know he’s in a band and has to be gone a lot, and I know he’s got this whole wolf-thing going, which makes things a little iffy sometimes, but we’ve been dating since my Junior year, and he hasn’t said the ‘M’ word even once. It makes me worry... oh, I dunno, that he isn’t really serious about me any more."

Buffy considered her best friend for a minute before speaking. "This is only our second year of college, Will. Oz hasn’t even declared a major yet. Maybe he isn’t hearing wedding bells ‘cause he doesn’t know for sure what he wants to do, y’know, with a career and all. It’s a lot of pressure for a guy, even though wives work nowadays, to be the almighty ‘bread-winner’ and land a high paying job. Maybe he’s just not sure of himself yet."

Willow tried to look hopeful. "Yeah, you’re probably right. You’re so lucky, ‘cause Giles is Mr. Reliable. You probably don’t really have to work, what with him being a big time professor and all."

Buffy smiled and her face softened as she thought about her conscientious husband. "No, I really don’t, but I want to, anyway. He works so hard, even though he’s got all that education, and is probably smarter than anybody else there. He’s always putting money in savings, just in case, quote, ‘something untoward should happen’, unquote. So, if I want to, oh, for instance, go buy a new dress, I hate to ask him for money, even though I know he’d give me the last dime in his pocket if I wanted it. And I want to be able to handle stuff, like a budget and a checking account. My job, such as it is, helps me help him, and helps me help me, too. Did that make sense?"

"Perfect sense. I understood every word."

"You understand Xander’s every word, too, so that’s not much comfort."

They both laughed affectionately at the thought of their quirky friend. Willow’s face fell a bit as she said, "Poor Xander, he’s really having to study hard. With his after school jobs, it’s tough for him. I try to help, when he lets me, but he wants to do this all by himself."

"I know. He’ll make it, too. He’s pretty stubborn."

"Yeah, and I’ll be cheering when he gets that diploma, louder than anybody."

"I’ll be cheering too, and so will Giles."

"I bet his parents won’t even come. They didn’t show up for his high-school graduation, even though they thought he’d never finish."

"They weren’t much help, were they? It’s like they don’t even care, and he’s their only kid."

"I think they’re just terrible. He’s a great guy, and they treat him like dirt."

"Yeah, and so has every girlfriend he’s ever had."

"He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. I sure hope he finds someone soon. Preferably someone with a pulse who hasn’t been an evil, man-hating demon for a thousand years."

"Xander’s a great guy, but he hasn’t had many breaks. It’s just so unfair."

They sat in silence for a moment, thinking about their friend and everything he had been through in his short life.

"We’re really pretty lucky aren’t we, you and I?" Buffy’s voice was soft, but Willow heard her clearly, even in the noisy room.

"Yeah. We have people who care, who are there no matter what. Xander doesn’t, except for us. And he still goes on, even though it’s really tough sometimes."

"I shouldn’t be so mad at Giles. I should be grateful. He’s just trying to take care of me, as usual."

"Yeah. And I shouldn’t be mad at Oz, just ‘cause I’m impatient. He’s right, y’know, we need to wait--finish school, and all--before doing the settling-down thing."

"Yeah." They sat staring at each other for several minutes. The waitress brought their food, causing them both to jump and come back to reality. They took up their forks to begin, then stopped, still thinking about how fortunate they both were, in light of what might have been.

At last, Willow spoke. "Uh, I know I said we were gonna do the ladies night out thing, and all, but I kinda think I wanna go back to the room and call Oz."

Buffy’s face was as pensive as Willow’s tone. "Yeah, I don’t really need to go shopping. Maybe I’ll just go home and talk to Giles for a while. He’s been grading papers all week... he could use a break."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

They both smiled at each other, then started giggling. Willow took a deep breath, let it out with a whoosh, and quipped, "We’re both totally guy-whipped, aren’t we?"

"Definitely. Wouldn’t have it any other way."

"Me neither. Pass the catsup, will you?"

********

Giles looked up from the stack of homework on the coffee table, his face registering concerned surprise when Buffy came in. "Hello, love. You’re home early. Are you feeling all right?"

"Worry-wart. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to come home and hang with you."

"Really? How sweet... and, how odd."

She rolled her eyes and sat on the arm of his chair before sliding comfortably into his arms. He assumed his most recently favored position, holding her against his chest, warm hands running over the gentle swell of baby beneath her smooth stomach. She giggled as he slid his hands under her waistband. "You trying’ to start something, Mr. Giles?"

"Just getting comfortable. So, what happened to change your plans with Willow? Is she well?"

"She’s well. We just started talking about how lucky we are to have such great guys in our lives, and we kinda, y’know, started missing said guys. So we ate dinner and decided to go home to our respective guys."

He gave her an understanding smile and kissed the side of her face. "It appears that we ‘guys’ are the lucky ones."

"Believe it, Watcher-man."

They sat and talked softly for a long while, enjoying the feeling of being loved and in love. When words failed them, their mental connection took over, transferring emotions and longings that could not be spoken. The Bond had never been stronger in them. It seemed to expand as their devotion to each other deepened. Neither of them knew if the Bond would carry over to their son, or whether it would continue once the child arrived. They only knew that for now, their souls were one.

********

Waking up at two-thirty in the morning usually irritated Buffy to no end. Normally, she’d be mentally counting up the remaining hours of sleep, accompanied by grumpy growls and muffled complaining. Often, she would wake Rupert to keep her company, even though he needed sleep as badly as she did. For some reason, tonight was different. She awoke with a sense of purpose, as if she’d been summoned from sleep by name.

She stirred in her husband’s warm embrace, turning around to study him closely. The street light outside their window shed just enough light to see his face. She had never thought of a man as being lovely until she saw him sleeping for the first time. Her heart still caught in her throat when she watched him at rest.

He murmured something, his face frowning suddenly as dream thoughts turned unpleasant. Because of their unique and dangerous lives, their sleep was often disturbed by nightmares... hers because of prophesies or warnings; his because of his deep concern for her safety, and the safety of those they loved. They might have retired from active patrolling, but they would never retire from the supernatural calling they shared.

He moaned softly, then said, "Buffy..." His voice was so full of anguish, it made her want to cry. She couldn’t bear to see him in discomfort, so she reached for him, stroking his forehead and cheek soothingly. The results were immediate. He relaxed into a sweet smile and whispered her name again, aware of her presence even in deep slumber. She whispered his name in response, and the smile grew. He sighed softly and opened his eyes. Seeing her, awake and watching him, he touched her face gently. "You should be sleeping, love."

"So should you. I think I woke up so I could stop your nightmare, whatever it was."

"And stop it, you did. Wonderfully. Perhaps you were alerted through the Bond."

"Could be. I’m glad I woke up by myself, instead of waking up to you screaming. What was it about? I don’t usually get images from you when you’re asleep, but I thought you called for me."

"Nothing, just a typical anxiety dream. I was searching for you, and couldn’t find you."

"Is that why you called my name?"

"Probably."

"Well, I’m right here, so no more looking in your sleep, okay? I don’t like you having nightmares, babe. That’s my department."

"It was nothing. Go back to sleep."

"You, too. You’ve got early classes tomorrow."

"I’m fine, love."

"You’d better be, or you’ll be spending your next dream segment getting your butt kicked by me."

He chuckled, turned her away from him and pulled her close. Although she wasn’t showing very much, her belly was starting to get in the way. She was no longer entirely comfortable in her favorite sleeping position of being draped over his chest, so they were trying to get used to sleeping ‘spoon’ fashion. Neither of them slept well without being in physical contact with the other, but they just hadn’t found the optimum position yet. With him snuggled up behind her, arms around her, his breath ruffled the hair on the back of her neck. The sensation, while soothing, was also highly erotic, and she sometimes had trouble falling asleep right away unless they’d just made love. She hugged his arms to her and wiggled a little, trying to direct his exhalations towards a less erogenous area.

He immediately loosened his embrace. "Are you uncomfortable?"

"Not really, it’s just... just that, oh, here..." She deliberately relayed her problem to him through their telepathic connection, allowing him to feel the stirrings of arousal she felt. He responded with a low moan that became a groan as his body translated the emotion into an answering physical response.

"How can you sleep through that?" His voice was a mere growl.

"Sometimes, I can’t. Like now." She turned in his arms, facing him, their noses touching. They both smiled at the same time.

"I suppose you want me to do something about this... discomfort." He rubbed his nose against hers affectionately.

"I was thinking maybe you could."

"I could always go to the guest room."

She slapped his arm smartly.

"Ow! Joking, love, merely joking! Let’s see, we could reverse position, and let you breathe on me for a while."

She trailed a finger down his chest, shaking her head. "That might work for later, but for now..."

"It’s two-forty-five, love..."

"So, stop wasting time with your British levity. The sooner we do it, the sooner we get back to sleep."

"How romantic."

She leaned into him and bit his neck gently. She knew that always drove him crazy. As usual, it worked like a charm. He responded with a predatory growl, his hesitation instantly gone.

Come morning, the alarm woke them both from a deep and very satisfied sleep.

* * * * *

A month later, Buffy’s body was undergoing some major changes, and she was vividly aware of every one of them. She’d finally begun to show, and was feeling awkward and slow. After one particularly tiring day, she dragged herself home, stripped off her clothes, and lay down on the bed in her underwear, her fingertips probing her belly gently. She was concentrating so intently that she didn’t hear Giles come in and make his way upstairs.

He stood in the doorway, not knowing whether to be amused or worried. She was gingerly feeling her now obvious stomach, a pensive look on her face. Being a Slayer meant that an abundance of strange things happened as a matter of course. Living with an expecting Slayer meant he’d had to adapt to even stranger things in the past seven-plus months. He watched for a minute, then spoke softly, so as not to startle her. "Hello, Buffy. What are you doing?"

She turned her head slightly and gave him a radiant smile. "I’m playing with the baby. Come here and see what I mean."

He sat beside her on the bed and watched as she pressed against her stomach. Her face broke into another delighted smile, and she said, "Try it. Push here, not too hard."

He complied, and for a moment, felt nothing. Then, as if in answer to the pressure, he felt a firm kick against his fingers. He exhaled sharply. His son was kicking him! An awe-stricken look crossed his face. He’d felt the faint flutters of movement before, but this seemed to be a direct response to his actions. It was almost painfully moving, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

Buffy’s voice was soft as she remarked, "amazing, isn’t it? I’ve been doing that for twenty minutes or so, and he responds every time. D’you think that makes him a prodigy?"

"Almost certainly, love." He leaned over and gave his glowing wife an emotion filled kiss. "It’s wonderful." He kissed her again, slowly. "You’re wonderful."

"You are too, Daddy Rupert. Our future Einstein owes his smart genes to you."

"And he’ll owe his strength and good looks to his mother."

"I love you, Rupert." He answered her with yet another warm kiss, then took off his jacket and lay down beside her, his hand resting lightly on her belly. There was no more verbal conversation, but the Bond buzzed with shared emotion. The connection was so strong Giles was almost willing to forego dinner and remain in this cocoon of warmth and love.

Then his stomach started growling, and he decided that dinner was a rather good idea. Buffy giggled at his thoughts, and gave him a quick kiss before getting up and gathering her clothes. She grimaced at her first pair of maternity pants. "These look so silly, babe. I’m gonna be in long tops from now ‘til little No Name makes his debut."

"Little ‘No Name’?"

"Well, we haven’t decided, and I don’t wanna get in the habit of calling him something and then have to change it when he shows up." She slipped on her clothes and stuck her feet into her favorite slippers.

Giles laughed softly. "You’ve stayed with ‘Marcus’ the whole time. I must confess it’s starting to grow on me."

"Really? Great! I love the name. And ‘Marcus Everett’ means ‘fierce young warrior.’ Our little guy may need to have some fierceness in him to deal with the Council."

"I sincerely hope not." He followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen. "I don’t want those superstitious fools anywhere near our son."

As she rummaged in the refrigerator, she commented, "so, you really like ‘Marcus Everett?’"

He thought about it, then said, "Yes. It’s a good name. Strong."

"Fierce!"

"Uhm... warlike... are you sure we want to burden a child with that kind of legacy?"

"There are all kinds of battles, Rupert." She straightened and looked at him, suddenly seeming older and wiser than her years.

They began dinner preparations in silence. It wasn’t until they sat at the dining room table that Buffy spoke. "You know they’ll want to see him... examine him."

Giles didn’t have to ask who she meant. "I know. But I feel strongly about this. He will not be a laboratory animal for them. I won’t allow it."

"Maybe they’ll let us send them reports... y’know, from the doctor, and we’re documenting everything anyway... so..." She looked down at her plate. Her voice was barely audible as she added, "...I just have to hope they’ll stay over in England, and leave us alone."

"We’ll have to see to it that they do, my love." He gripped her hand reassuringly. "This is our child, from our love, our family. They’ll have a fight on their hands if they think otherwise."

Buffy smiled at his fervent tone. She knew he would defend his family to the death. Then she thought about that expression, ‘to the death,’ and prayed silently it would never come to that.

Through their shared connection, Giles agreed with her.

********

Giles sat straight up in the bed, gasping frantically for air. Buffy had hold of his arm, and was calling his name in a frightened voice. He vaguely remembered someone screaming. ‘By the look on Buffy’s face, it must have been me,’ he thought.

"It was you," she answered his thought in her typically offhand way. "God, Rupert, you scared the hell outta me!"

His breath began to calm. He tried to concentrate on his dream, knowing it would fade if he didn’t articulate it immediately.

"What was it, babe?" Her voice took on a soothing quality, and she propped his pillow behind him, allowing him to stay partially upright.

"It... It was much the same as the dreams I’ve had before. I was searching for you. I thought I’d lost you. You were... gone. You, and the baby. Taken from me." He shuddered violently.

"Someone took us away?" She frowned at this new development. "You’ve never told me that before."

"I only just realized it, or perhaps it only occurred in tonight’s dream. Some force had separated us, and I couldn’t see you... or f-feel..."

Her eyes widened. After living with the awareness of the Bond and being connected, both mentally and emotionally, to Giles for three years, she couldn’t imagine a more horrible fate. "Oh, babe, that musta been awful!"

"Yes... yes, it was. Dear God." He shuddered again, and she wrapped him in her arms, holding him close. He returned the embrace, needing the comfort and nearness badly.

"Rupert, do you think this is sorta prophetic-like? I know I usually have the "see-the-future, be-the-future" versions, but we’ve been linked for a while, and maybe it, well, rubs off."

He closed his eyes wearily. "I can only pray it is not, my love."

They began to arrange themselves back under the covers. "We’ll both pray that. We don’t need any sucky ol’ prophecies right now, but you do need to go back to sleep." She kissed his forehead before turning onto her side.

He was silent for a minute, then whispered, "Love you, Buffy."

"Love you, Rupert." She replied sleepily.

He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep after his horrible nightmare, but the sound of his beloved’s soft breathing soothed him, and soon he drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

********

Buffy ran up the steps and into the house, feeling energized and ready for action. Giles looked up with a happy smile, seemingly fully recovered from his restless night. He’d been a bit tired at work today, but since the University was embroiled in finals he’d not had to do anything but monitor his classes as they worked. It was his early day, and he was finished with his most of his work. He was looking forward to a quiet evening with Buffy, and perhaps a cuddle later on.

"I called Will and Xander, Rupert, and they’re coming over tonight." She dropped her books in their usual place on the couch and gave her husband a quick kiss.

He bit back his frustration, knowing she felt it anyway. "You want us to research my dreams? Isn’t that a bit proactive?"

She sat beside him and curled her arms around his neck. Nuzzling him gently, she stated, softly, but emphatically, "when my big, strong hubby wakes up screaming, it’s time to be proactive."

He sighed. "Very well. I would like to get to the bottom of this. I’ll gather the reading material."

"And I’ll make the party mix."

He began to chuckle. "You’ve spent entirely too much time with Xander."

"Oh, yeah. No doubt about that. Two classes a day, five days a week, and he’s over here every chance he gets... he’s bordering on brother-hood."

"The lad needs a girlfriend." Giles sounded the tiniest bit grumpy.

Buffy gave a surprised laugh. "Are you jealous? Of Xander?" She giggled wildly as he pulled her into his lap, her burgeoning belly keeping her from jumping up and out of his grasp. He began to kiss the back of her neck as she squirmed against him. "Rupert... stop it," she demanded, trying to pretend he wasn’t getting to her. He ignored her, and deliberately blew a hot breath against the back of her neck. "Rupert... that’s cheating..." He repeated the gesture, easing his grip on her as she stopped struggling. "Ahhhh... no fair..." She reached back with one hand, tangling her fingers into his hair, the other hand covering his as he caressed her belly.

"It’s entirely fair... my sweet... for ruining my plans for this evening with your little research party." He continued to puff warm air against her neck, grinning as he watched every hair stand on end. Fascinating.

She turned in his arms and captured his mouth in an exploratory kiss. When they broke apart, flushed and slightly breathless, she remarked, "aw, heck, I didn’t really need to study, anyway," and felt his amusement transmitted to her through their mental link.

As he stood with her in his arms and started towards a more comfortable location, he murmured, "you’ll be studying. This is merely a change in curriculum."

********

"What about this one, Giles? It’s about losing things. See?" Willow passed the book to her best friend’s mentor and husband, hoping she’d found something useful this time. They’d discussed, munched, read, speculated, and even argued, and they’d come up with zilch. It was nearly midnight, and they’d read every dream interpretation and prophecy they could find. Now they were pouring through old Watcher journals, hoping for a parallel experience.

He took the book, reading the description carefully before shaking his head and handing it back. "No, I’m sorry, Willow. That’s not quite it."

Xander spoke up from his usual study position... on his stomach in the floor. "Nothing is ‘quite it.’ Are you sure you didn’t make this story up to get some extra nooky?"

Giles gave the boy his most offended look. "I hardly need to employ mendacity when I’m feeling amorous."

Xander looked at Buffy. "Wha’d he say?"

She winked saucily. "He said doesn’t need to, ‘cause he’s such a stud."

"Oh." Xander returned to his book sheepishly.

Giles looked a bit sheepish himself at her interpretation, but didn’t correct the statement. He dropped his gaze back to his book, but when she snuck a quick glance at him, he was smiling.

Suddenly Willow sat up straight and said, "Oh! I had a thought!" Her face fell. "I had a terrible thought. I don’t even want to think about what I thought!"

Giles smiled reassuringly. "Please, Willow... we need a flash of intuition, I do believe."

"C’mon, let’s hear it, Will." Xander sat up and scooted closer to his childhood friend.

"What if this is Council related? I mean, what if this isn’t the first Watcher/Slayer baby ever? What if that kind of baby was really special, or powerful... and what if they decided to, like, kidnap it or something? Do you really think they’d let the Watcher-daddy write it down in a journal? I mean, wouldn’t they wanna hide it, in case it happened again? ‘Cause you’d be warned about it, then, if it was written down!"

Giles managed to look hopeful and disturbed in the same instant. "If that were true, we’d have to resort to historic references maintained outside Council influence."

Xander gave Giles his patented ‘Huh?’ look. "Does that mean more dusty, boring books?"

"Yes, Xander. More dusty, boring books." Giles got up to search his shelves again, taking some of the useless volumes back for reshelving.

"Dusty boring books that might help us keep Buffy’s baby safe." Willow addressed Xander with reproach in her voice.

Xander nodded soberly, all joking aside. "I love dusty, boring books."

They found their answer in the strangest place. Giles was reading over a ledger of land sold to Watchers in the 18th century, and he happened upon a familiar name. Aldridge Stone had purchased a cottage in Cumbernauld, Scotland in 1712. That, in itself, was not an unusual occurrence. What caught his eye was the name of his wife. Elspeth. That was the name of his Slayer. Giles sprang to his feet and retrieved his copy of the Council Roster, and there it was... Stone had married his Slayer, and they’d purchased a home together. Usually, a Watcher passed his charge off as a niece, a daughter, or a ward. Stone had not.

"Willow, I need birth records for the area... Glasgow, especially."

She was already typing away at her tiny laptop. It took another half hour, but she found it. One name among thousands. A precedent. "Here it is, Giles!" She showed him the screen. Together they read the name, "Ariana Sullivan Stone."

Another twenty minutes on the laptop produced the most significant--and the most disheartening--news of the night... Ariana’s obituary. Buffy couldn’t bear to read it, so Giles steeled himself, and did so, in an almost reverent voice, "Born, August 22, 1712...died, September 18th, 1713... she was only a year old."

Willow was already at work again, her brilliant and curious mind zipping through possibilities as fast as her fingers would type. Soon she’d ruled out outbreaks of disease or foul play, and had come to another unpleasant finding. "She didn’t die, Giles! The baby disappeared. Here’s an article in the Glasgow paper, dated September, 1713... asking for help in the disappearance of a year old baby girl... Oh, Giles, they couldn’t... they wouldn’t do that now, I mean in this century... would they?"

"They might. The Chairman would not, nor the Director. They are honorable men. But the Director is old, and the Chairman has been partially crippled by malicious poisoning. The instant either of them steps down, things could change for the worse. The remnants of the faction that fought against us last summer might well see it as a chance to gain control of the Council once again."

"You guys forgot something..." Everyone turned to look at Buffy, who was curled, as best she could, on the couch. Her face was impassive. "...Ariana was a girl. A potential Slayer. Marcus is a boy. Maybe they won’t be as interested in him."

"Marcus?" Xander and Willow spoke simultaneously.

"Marcus Everett," Buffy said, proudly.

"It means ‘Fierce young warrior," Giles added, suddenly thrilled with the idea that his unborn son had his very own name. He was no longer just a vague concept, albeit a delightful one. He was Marcus.

Giles was completely unaware that his face had shifted from stern research mode to proud papa mode. Xander noticed, however, and saw the perfect opportunity to take a break. "Okay, time for intermission. I’m for more party mix and grape soda. Anybody want?"

Willow and Buffy made a face that obviously meant ‘no.’ Giles headed after Xander to make some tea. They sat around the room for a while, drinking tea and watching Xander eat.

Nobody commented on their disturbing discovery for a very long time.

********

With less than six weeks to go. Giles could barely concentrate on his lesson plan. The baby was due during summer break. He had to find out what the Council was up to. He needed help. He needed an insider.

He needed his father.

After his last morning class, he fled to his office. He turned the phone card over and over in his fingers, trying to decide what to do. Buffy had gotten the card at a gas station, of all places. Twenty dollars worth of long distance for... you guessed it... twenty dollars. He hoped it was enough. He dialed an outside line and carefully entered the long string of numbers that would reach across the miles and ocean. He stared at the card as he waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, a voice rough with sleep answered, "Giles."

"Father?" He felt like crying, which was silly, but it seemed a relief to hear the familiar voice. "I need your help."

Cedrick Giles took a minute to clear his head, then realized what his son had said. This was the boy who never asked for help, or advice, or anything, from anybody, any time, unless it was a matter of life or death. He sat up and took notice of the event. "Of course, Rupert. What kind of help, exactly?"

"Well, I wish I could say exactly, but I’m not sure. I’ve been having some disturbing dreams the past few nights... weeks, now, actually. It’s about... the baby."

Cedrick was wide awake now. "What exactly are these visions, son? I wasn’t aware of you having the gift."

Giles took of his glasses and rubbed his nose wearily. "Normally, I don’t. But these have been intensely vivid and disturbing. I need to ask the Council some rather awkward questions, and I fear that most of them would deeply offend the Chairman and the Director. Yet I cannot ignore what I’ve experienced."

"I see. What can I do?"

"My dreams center around some force, possibly aligned with the Council, taking our son away from us as soon as he is born."

Cedrick forced himself not to react. Instead, he tried another tack. "Your son? It’s a boy, then? How long have you known?"

"Sorry, Father, I should have called you sooner. We’ve known for several months."

"And how is my charming daughter-in-law? Is she dreadfully uncomfortable? Your mother swelled up like a sausage the last two months."

Giles chuckled, but he knew this gambit. "She’s wonderful. Still going strong. I’m afraid I have her worried, though, and I must set her mind at ease."

"Again, I say, what can I do?"

Giles took a deep breath. "Father, you are head of security. You would normally be notified of any... well, for lack of a better word, covert activity being mounted. But being as you are my father, certain factions might bypass you if their plans were less than Council approved."

"You think some of the dissenters that might have been undetected during Retreat last summer are conspiring to kidnap your child?"

"I know it sounds far-fetched, Father, but..."

"No, Rupert, no, it doesn’t. I’ve always believed there were more than just those nine men involved. But things had gone back to grinding normality, and I had nearly dismissed the idea."

"So, you don’t think I’m mad?"

Cedrick gave a quiet laugh. "Not in the least. Fathers will do extraordinary things to protect their children. I’ll look into it."

"Thank you, Father." His voice belied his relief at finding his father an ally. "And, I have some interesting historical precedent for something like this... the information is being emailed to you now." He mentally thanked God for Willow and her insistence on utilizing the internet.

"I’ll study it immediately when it arrives. Did you send it to the office, or here?"

"Both. I couldn’t afford for it to miss you."

"I’ll get to it, then, and contact you Thursday evening, your time. Seven o’clock?"

"Eight, if you can. I’m grading semester tests all week."

Cedrick laughed more openly. "My son, the dedicated teacher."

Rupert chuckled in reply. "Yes, well, I’m no use at anything else. At least I have a profession to fall back on."

"Just so."

"I know it’s late, so I’ll let you get back to sleep. If anything happens, I have one of those cellular hand-held telephones now. At Buffy’s insistence, of course."

"Of course."

Giles gave his father the number, then rang off, feeling relieved and nervous at the same time.

********

Giles could see Cordelia through the outer office window, polishing her nails and looking like an ad from a fashion magazine. He didn’t know if he could actually go inside. ‘At this point, old man, you’d wash and wax the Devil’s car if it meant keeping Buffy safe.’ He shook his head, staring down at the sidewalk. ‘As they always say... ‘Better the Devil you know...’ and you know this one right well.’

Would he be able to face Angel?

He straightened, squared his shoulders, and grasped the doorknob. For her, he would do anything.

Cordelia glanced up when she heard the door, a plastic, good-little-secretary smile on her face. It only lasted a second, because she recognized him, squealed his name, and jumped up to give him a hug. He was completely caught by surprise, and blurted, "h-hello, Cordelia, um, why are you hugging me?"

She let him go, but kept her hands on his arms. "Because, goofy tweed person, I’m glad to see you, of course, why else would I even bother? It’s not like you’re a movie producer, or anyone important!" She gave his arm a gentle slap, and linked her arm in his to bring him into the main office. "So, how’s Buffy? How’s the gang? And Xander, of course."

Giles grinned at her, and replied, "becoming quite uncomfortable, doing very well, and still the same old Xander."

"Okay, Mr. smarty-pants. You better show some respect. I’m the secretary here, and I’m the one who decides whether you can see Mr. ‘Angel Investigations’ or not..."

"Hey, Giles." Angel appeared from the inner office, staying carefully out of the direct sunlight. He looked extremely uncomfortable, and not from the sun.

Cordelia gave him an exasperated look and rolled her eyes. "You’re supposed to stay in your office until I come in and tell you someone’s here to see you."

"The walls are glass, Cordy. I could see someone was here."

To his surprise, Giles found himself looking his former enemy squarely in the eyes. "Hello, Angel."

"This must be important."

"It is."

Angel stood aside, and gestured towards his office door. "Come in."

Cordelia strained to pick up on the conversation, but both men spoke in quiet tones. She finally gave up in disgust. Stupid men. They didn’t even have the decency to rant and rave so she could hear. How rude!

After about twenty minutes of intense conversation, Giles came out, his expression guarded. She couldn’t stand not knowing what was going on. She grabbed her purse, then his arm, and propelled him towards the door.

Once again, Giles was flummoxed. "Cordelia? What are you doing?"

"You’re doing. You’re taking me to lunch."

"I am?"

"Yep. It’s your lucky day. Jerome’s is having a lunch special."

"But..."

She put on her brightest and most winning smile. "It’s thousand layer lasagna."

"But, really... um, lasagna? Really?" He began to look interested. "With ricotta?"

"You bet!" She had him. Before lunch was through, she’d know the whole story.

* * * * *

"I don’t need a bodyguard." Buffy paced in front of the couch, fuming.

"Just until I hear something definite from Father, please, love? I can’t be with you twenty-four hours a day." He stood, trying to calm her with his presence.

"No one can, silly, but that’s the point! I don’t need baby-sitting."

"Perhaps you don’t." He stepped forward, gently laying a hand on her swollen belly. "But perhaps Marcus does."

She looked down at his hand, defeated. A whimper of frustration escaped her lips and a hot tear slid down her cheek. Suddenly she seized his hand in both of hers and kissed it fiercely. He pulled her into his arms, murmuring softly, "you know I will protect you and our child with everything I have." He held her close and whispered, "I will do whatever is necessary to see that you are both safe."

Her voice was muffled against his shirt. "Even if it means asking him for help? I would never expect you to ask him..."

"Shh. It’s done. You only have five weeks to go, and I want to know you’re safe. You won’t even know Angel is there. Please, dearest, let me protect you for once!" He was near tears himself.

"All right... it’s all right. But, you’ve got it all wrong, babe."

He leaned back and looked into her eyes, a question on his face.

She smiled and touched his face. "This isn’t the first time you’ve protected me. You’re always protecting me. You’re the only one who can."

********

The entire network of friends, former friends, relatives and co-workers had been mobilized by Giles to watch over Buffy. Giles continued to have nightmares, and often Buffy had to shake him severely to get him to come out of them. Some nights, he refused to sleep at all. He was losing sleep, weight, and strength. Buffy began to wonder if he wasn’t the target, instead of her.

She and Willow began to do some surreptitious research on dream spells. After two weeks of constant work, Willow narrowed the field down to three choices, all of them equally nasty and effective. It was difficult to do identification spells without the victim knowing about them, especially someone as magic-sensitive as Giles. So, once the two girls were reasonably sure of their findings, they took them to him, confident he would listen.

And listen, he did. They’d done considerable study on the matter, and he couldn’t dismiss their findings out of hand. He decided to allow them to do the identification spell, but only in a protected place away from Buffy, in case of a miscast or unexpected backlash. He stationed Angel and his unseen cohorts at his house, with Xander inside for added security, then he and Willow went to the safest place he could think of, not knowing where else to go.

The mansion.

Angel still owned it, and he gave them the key with no questions asked. They set up in the upstairs living room and Willow performed the incantation flawlessly. If Giles was under a dream spell, there would be three signs, one for each type of spell cast.

Giles tested positive for all three.

Willow was horrified. No wonder her friend was wasting away! She moved from horror to anger and determination. Quickly, she reassembled her casting circle, and began the tedious process of removing the spells. She had to find out which one was cast first, and start with it, so she began a torturous process of elimination. The second attempt was successful, and the first spell was broken. Giles seemed to find some relief in that, and she continued, casting twice more before breaking the second spell.

The third didn’t respond to anything she tried. "I’m sorry, Giles, it just won’t give. I’m at the end of my knowledge, here. I don’t know what else to do."

Giles was exhausted. He could still feel the cold fingers of dread clasped around his insides. He knew he couldn’t keep going on without peace and rest. Peace and rest...

"I’ve got to make a call." He got to his feet, staggering slightly.

Willow followed him up, uncertain that he would be able to walk on his own. "Giles, you need to sit down for a little while. This spell-breaking is pretty intense."

"No, I have to get to a phone. I think I know who can lift this."

"Who? If I can’t do it, who in Sunnydale can?"

********

Father Denning was accustomed to getting phone calls in the middle of the night. It was part of the job. He blinked sleepiness away as he reached for the telephone, and fumbled around until he found the switch for the bedside lamp. He answered, "St. Mary’s Rectory, Father Denning speaking. How can I help you this late hour?"

He was surprised to hear Rupert Giles’ tired voice on the other end of the line. After a concise explanation from the former Watcher, Denning invited him to come to the Rectory as soon as it was light. After Denning hung up the telephone, he sighed and got up to get dressed. From Giles’ description, it would take more than a simple blessing to dispel this curse.

He got up, said a heartfelt prayer for guidance, and went to work.

********

"Why did I have to come?"
"Because you’re his friend, Xander, and you have fuzzy feelings for him. We need all the fuzzy feelings we can get. Buffy called all their friends."

"I don’t have ‘fuzzy feelings’ for Giles!" Xander looked offended. They stopped at the steps to the church, and he fixed Willow with an angry glare.

"Not those kind of fuzzy feelings! I meant, he’s-just-like-family, you-can-always-count-on-him, father-son fuzzy feelings."

"Oh. Well, in that case... okay, I guess I do have some vague fuzziness. I just feel weird going in there. Don’t you feel weird going in a Catholic church? I mean, being Jewish?"

"I went to the Hellmouth to save Giles before. At least this is the Good Guys’ side. I don’t care about the trappings, I just care about Giles."

"Way to make me feel petty and childish, Will."

"You did that aaaall by yourself."

They pushed the door open, and were surprised to see Faith and Wesley lingering in the foyer. They exchanged brief greetings, and waited uncomfortably. After what seemed like an hour, Buffy’s little red convertible pulled into the parking lot. When they came in, Xander was shocked. Giles looked ten years older, and he looked like he’d lost weight. For once, Xander had the sense to keep his mouth shut and just give the man a reassuring smile.

"Come in, everyone. There’s no special ritual involved in entering a church." Father Denning’s amused voice floated down from the altar area. He came down the aisle, smiling. One look at his friend told him that the need was great. But he was ready.

"Follow me. I think we’ll go to my office for this. We’ll need to move some chairs in, but I think we can manage." He let them in his modest office, setting up folding chairs in a circle, with one in the middle. "Rupert, you’ll sit in the center chair. Buffy, here, the rest in any order you like." He reached for a tattered book, holding it with great reverence. "This isn’t an exorcism. It’s more accurately a blessing, combined with a prayer of deliverance. Mystic spells can affect us, but they have no power once God intervenes."

Without further explanation, Denning launched into Latin, reading from the book and making graceful signs with his hands. He dipped his fingers in holy water, touching Giles’ forehead, chest, and each shoulder lightly, never stopping in his intense litany. During another pause, he used anointing oil, and drew a cross on Giles’ forehead, leaving a shiny spot. The incantation was a long one, and Buffy was getting uncomfortable in the hard metal chair when something hit Giles like a cudgel. His head snapped backwards, and he started to slide out of the chair. Buffy began to get to her feet, but Father Denning smiled and held up his hand, putting the book on his desk so he could steady Giles in place. He finished the blessing with a flourish, then held out a hand for Buffy. She immediately got up and put her hands on either side of her husband’s face.

"Rupert... are you all right?" She said the words softly, still slightly fearful in spite of her trust in Father Denning and the God he spoke of in such confident terms.

Giles’ eyes fluttered open. He smiled tiredly and covered one of her hands with his. "I’m all right."

"How do you feel?"

"Sleepy. I could sleep for a week, I think."

"Then let’s go home and you can get started, ‘kay?" Buffy turned to Father Denning. "It is okay, isn’t it?"

Denning rested a comforting hand on her shoulders. "Yes, by all means. The blight is lifted, and he’ll probably want to sleep the rest of the day. That’s what he needs right now." By the look of the man in front of him, Denning suspected he’d sleep for longer than that.

"Thank you, Father Denning. Thank God, too." Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she gave the stocky priest a kiss on the cheek. He beamed at her, and patted her hands before giving the groggy Giles a firm handshake.

Buffy turned to her friends and gave each of them a hug, even the taciturn Wesley, who flinched but didn’t pull away. She supported her husband carefully as she led him to the car and fastened his seat belt for him. He seemed in a daze. She drove home, glancing at him every few seconds to be sure he was still okay. She helped him into the house and upstairs, then stripped him and put him to bed. He was out before his head hit the pillow. He slept, nightmare free, for almost twenty-four hours straight, rousing only to use the restroom and sip the water Buffy brought him.

When he finally awoke, he’d lost a day, but he felt like a new man. He stretched luxuriously, then sent his thoughts searching for Buffy. ‘Ah, there you are,’ he thought as he reached her in the kitchen. Her delight was clear as she climbed up the stairs and maneuvered herself into bed next to him. He pulled the covers up over her, and she settled against him happily.

"Hi, there, gorgeous! You all better now? Not that you don’t look all cute curled up asleep, but I didn’t have anyone to talk to, so I was getting bored."

He laughed softly. "Sorry I was such poor company."

"Not your fault. Father Denning stopped by twice to check on you."

The mention of the priest brought events crashing back to Giles’ memory. There was danger to his family... danger that could possibly be coming from inside the Watcher’s Council. "Buffy, we need to talk about all this. I’m not convinced we’re out of the woods just yet."

She was quiet a moment, then she nodded. "I know. I’m not having nightmares like you were, at least not right now, but I have this feeling... I don’t know how to describe it, exactly... like someone is coming here to hurt us, but they’re not here yet. I guess it’s my ‘spider sense’ again. Isn’t that weird?"

"Perhaps not. My Father is supposed to call me back tonight with any information he has gathered. I’m beginning to suspect we haven’t heard the last of the splinter group that gave us the trouble at the Watcher’s Retreat last year. Father always felt that we didn’t get all of them, and I’m inclined to agree."

Buffy shivered involuntarily. "Those guys are way evil, Giles. They didn’t even mind killing other Watchers. What can we do?"

"Several things. We find out all we can about their plans. Father will do what he can to alert us, but we must be vigilant at all times. We see to the security of our home, the school, and the clinic, and eventually the hospital, when it’s time for the baby to be born. And, we pray like mad."

"Sounds like a plan to me." She gave him a quick kiss, then snuggled back into place. "So, what are we gonna do until your dad calls?"

"Well... since the obvious is now out of the question..."

She frowned at him in frustration. Sex in the last few weeks of pregnancy was not only uncomfortable, but not recommended. Knowing that didn’t make abstaining any easier for either of them.

"...perhaps we could get something to eat. I’m famished!"

********

The telephone rang at exactly eight o’clock. Cedrick Giles was nothing if not punctual. Giles caught it on the second ring, swallowing a feeling of dread as he answered calmly.

"Rupert? I have rather unpleasant news."

"I suspected you might. Give me the details." He listened carefully, making notes as necessary. Buffy came to his side and sat, watching his face for signs of defeat or fear. He remained expressionless during the entire conversation, and when he thanked his father and hung up, she felt a thrill of dread shoot through her.

"Okay, give. What’s the scoop? And no pussy-footing around, either, mister."

"It’s very bad."

"I figured. Tell me. Then we’ll go kick some butt."

She looked so determined and fearless, when all he wanted was to run away crying. "My brave girl." He stroked her face lovingly, not wanting to acknowledge what he’d just heard, but knowing he must. He gathered her unwieldy frame against him, and took a deep, steadying breath. "Simply put, the faction has regrouped, and they are stronger than before. They are openly advocating a return to the ‘old ways.’ They believe we have upset the balance and weakened the Call and its purpose. They’re calling the Bond a corruption of power. They have gained quite a following, especially among the younger, more idealistic Watchers. They are demanding a new Ruling Council, and they want us sanctioned. That could mean anything, at this point. And..." He paused, his breath shaky and uneven. "...Father believes they will indeed make an attempt to take Marcus from us."

Buffy’s face remained impassive, but her thoughts spun out of control. It was more or less what she expected, but hearing it confirmed was agonizing. "Too bad. Mom used to say, ‘It’s not what you want that counts... it’s what you get.’ And they’re not getting Marcus, and they’re not gonna get us, either. We’re the Chosen Ones, remember? God, how many times do we have to go through Hell before they leave us alone?" Hot, bitter tears stung her eyes, but she refused to cry.

"Oh, love, it never ends, does it?" His words seemed to come from the depths of his soul, and he held her desperately, squeezing his eyes shut to keep his own tears from falling. "God in Heaven, you’re going to have to give us strength."

"Strength, nothing." She sat up, her despair turning to anger, as it always did. "We need to whip their butts all the way back to England, once and for all."

"I believe that’s what I said, just not in those exact terms." He pressed a comforting kiss against her forehead.

She smiled at him suddenly, surprising him with her lightning quick changes of mood. "You’re something else, aren’t you, Rupert Giles..."

His eyes twinkled at her. "Let’s call a War Council. It’s time to become proactive, instead of reactive."

"Oh, goody. It’s butt kicking time!"

********

"This meeting will now come to order." Xander banged his shoe on the coffee table, ignoring Buffy’s glare. "I suppose you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here..."

Willow put her hand over his mouth and took the shoe away from him before Buffy launched into her ‘no shoes on the coffee table’ speech. "Go ahead, Giles, I’ll try to stifle the comic relief, here."

"We’re still waiting for someone..."

A soft knock at the door brought Giles to his feet, and he strode to the front door, knowing who it was. With deliberate formality, he stated, "come in, Angel."

"Angel? Yikes!" Willow yelped, and Xander’s mouth hung open. Wesley’s eyes narrowed, and Faith waved jauntily. Buffy gave her former lover a slight smile. She’d already known he was here. Behind Angel, Cordelia and Whistler entered. The small demon took in the comfortable home at a glance before fixating on Giles.

Cordelia brushed past them, intent on seeing her old friends. He heard her scream, "oh, my God!You’re huge!" when she saw Buffy.

"So, you’re the Watcher. I’ve never met one before. Name’s Whistler." He offered his hand, and Giles took it.

"You’re the one Buffy spoke to." He said the words quietly, but Angel heard him plainly.

"Right. Boy, was I in big trouble with the Acathla thing, but you don’t wanna hear about that."

Giles nodded tersely. "Don’t bother. I know all about it."

Whistler looked at him curiously. "You do? How?"

Giles looked surprised. "I have no idea. Buffy and I never talk about it."

Angel, noting the exchange, looked curious as well. "That’s new. Maybe it’s the Bond."

Giles and Whistler looked at Angel this time.

"I still lurk, sometimes." Angel looked away, embarrassed at being found out.

Giles suppressed a smile. "Let’s go make plans."

********

At LA International Airport the flight from Heathrow, New York, and Chicago arrived precisely on time. The plane disgorged its load of weary travelers, and no one noticed the small, tweed-clad man that got off an international flight with only carry-on luggage. If anyone had been paying attention, they’d have wondered why someone all the way from England would have traveled so light.

It was simple. Everything he needed was already here. He went straight to a prearranged airport locker, opened it with the key he’d gotten in the post, and pulled out a well-stocked weapons bag and several fat envelopes full of American money. He shouldered the bag, now well away from the main terminal and its sophisticated security devices, and strode away.

The man rented a car, paying for a month, in advance, in cash. The girl seemed surprised, but didn’t comment. He went to his car and began his journey towards Sunnydale. According to his calculations, he had about two weeks to prepare. As he drove, he pulled out a cell phone that had been waiting for him. The number was preprogrammed. Clever. ‘I won’t even have to memorize it,’ he thought cheerfully.

Someone picked up on the other end. "Yes."

"Travers here. Just got in."

"We’re at the Sunset Motor Inn just outside of town."

"Have you been detected?"

"No," the voice said with conviction, "but we haven’t made contact. I remember what happened last time."

"I’ll be there in a couple of hours. Be ready." Travers disconnected, humming softly to himself. He did so enjoy field work.

********

"You know what we forgot?"

Giles looked over at his wife as she tried to slide her feet into the only pair of shoes she could wear now. She could no longer tie her shoes, so slippers were her only option. He smiled as she concentrated on finding her shoe with her toes. She couldn’t even see her feet. He went to her and knelt, taking her foot and gently putting the shoe in place. He repeated the gesture with the other foot, and received a grateful smile from his miserable wife. "Thanks, babe. Only a couple of weeks to go, and boy, will I be glad. I feel like a bloated, sun-baked, stretch-marked cow."

"You look like a goddess." He gave her a kiss as he rose. "And what did we forget?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. We forgot our radar trick with the Bond. We can sense bad guys at a couple of hundred feet, remember?"

"Oh, yes. But, we must be together, and not distracted. I’m more concerned about when we’re apart."

Buffy levered herself to her feet with the aid of Giles’ arm. "Since school is out, the only place we go is to the bank, the grocery store, and the doctor’s office. Well, and Mom’s. We oughta be able to stay together, pretty much."

He led her down the stairs with a supporting hand at her back. "So then, the only factor we must work on is the distraction."

"Right. Oh, where’s my purse? I think I left it upstairs. Darn." She eyed the stairs, sighing.

"I’ll get it. Which one is it?"

"The little brown fake alligator one."

"Back in a mo." He dashed up the stairs and returned in seconds, the small bag hanging from his grasp.

"You’re a good husband." She rewarded him with a kiss.

"One more thing. I promised Dr. Stevenson I’d loan him my copy of ‘The Anatomy of a Slime Demon.’ It’s in the library. Do you want to sit?"

"No, no. Way too much trouble, unless I get to stay there a while." She waved him on with a smile.

He was rummaging around in the room they’d converted into a study room when he heard a soft cry. He stiffened, then turned and ran back to the front hall, calling for her. "Buffy? What is it? Buffy?"

He slid to a stop as he saw her, standing just where he’d left her. Puzzled, he started towards her. "What’s wrong, love?"

She looked at him with a strange mix of embarrassment, wonder, and fear on her lovely face. "I don’t think we’ve got a couple of weeks, babe. My water just broke."

* * *