Buffy wondered why in the world she’d agreed to spend winter break in England. As far as she was concerned, California was cold enough. This was like Hell. Frozen, icy Hell.

However, one look at the man beside her reminded her exactly of why she’d agreed to do this. She watched him as he helped her take her luggage from the trunk of his car, then shut it. Buffy slung her bookbag over her shoulder and picked up her laptop case as he rolled her large suitcase behind him. She followed him down the walk to the small cottage he’d bought since the last time she’d visited.

“Didn’t like the flat anymore?”

“No,” he replied as he turned the key in the lock. “Too many memories.”

Buffy nodded, but didn’t press him to elaborate. She didn’t need to. She understood completely.

“Your bedroom is down the hall, second door to your left. There bathroom is across from it. I’m sorry we’ll have to share one.”

“That’s all right.” She looked up at him and smiled. “You know, Giles, just…just because she’s gone now doesn’t mean we aren’t family anymore.”

Giles smiled at her, though there was still that ever-present tinge of sadness in his eyes. Buffy couldn’t say that she blamed him – especially since it tended to linger in her eyes as well. Giles had only been married to her mother for a little over a year when she’d unexpectedly fallen ill and died; however, Buffy knew the man had loved her. And he’d given her mother some happiness at the end, something Buffy would be forever grateful for.

Which was exactly why she’d opted to spend Christmas here in England with him instead of in much, much warmer California.

With Joyce gone, all they really had was each other.

She followed Giles down to her bedroom, expecting to find a standard guest bedroom, surprised when he opened the door and she saw that it wasn’t. Instead, it was a re-creation of the room she’d had back home – with things she’d thought were either sold or stuffed somewhere in storage. Buffy felt tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “You…you gave me my own room here?”

Giles pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “Yes, well…I figured anyone away at university should feel like they have a home waiting for them somewhere. And even if this is quite a ways away from California…”

Buffy threw her arms around him, making Giles’s words cut off with a surprised grunt. “Thank you. I haven’t really felt like I’ve had a home since…”

“I know.”

Giles pulled back from her and patted her shoulder. “You know, the day I married Joyce, I knew I wasn’t just getting a wife. I was getting a daughter, too. And she may be gone, but that doesn’t change who you are to me, Buffy. My door is always open to you, and I’ll never consider you anything but my daughter.”

Buffy felt a lump in her throat and didn’t know what to say. She’d worried when Giles had agreed to put her through college that he was simply doing it out of a sense of guilt or obligation, but she knew now that wasn’t the case. And it made her feel good.

Giles cleared his throat as he stepped back, then took off his glasses and proceeded to polish them with a handkerchief, and Buffy had to smile at the action. He always did that when the moment got too emotional for his Britishness, and it comforted her to see the familiar sight now.

“I’m not sure how you’ll feel about this, Buffy, since you only just got in and I’m sure you’ve got to be hit hard with jetlag, but a friend of mine is hosting his annual holiday party tonight. I told him my step-daughter would be in town, and you’re invited, of course, but you certainly don’t have to attend. And if you’d rather I stay home with you, I’m perfectly willing to do that as well.”

“Is this going to be one of those crusty British parties?” Buffy asked warily.

Giles chuckled. “Given the host, I doubt it. There’s absolutely nothing ‘crusty’ about Spike.”

Buffy’s jaw fell. “Giles? You have a friend named Spike?”

“Yes, I do,” Giles replied, clearly amused by Buffy’s shock. “And I’ll have you know that when I was your age, I was in a band.”

“Okay, now I know you’re messing with me.”

“I’m not. There are pictures.”

“Whoa. What happened?”

“Life,” Giles replied bemusedly.

“So is this Spike guy someone you knew back in your band days?” Buffy asked.

“No. He’s several years younger than I am. We met…” Giles trailed off. “Well, I think I’ll have to tell you that story someday when I’ve had a bit more to drink.”

Buffy gave him a bemused smile. “Giles, you wild man, you. Although now, I have to go to this party. Meet this ‘Spike.’ Maybe I can get him to tell me how you met.”

“You could certainly try,” Giles replied, this time his expression the teasing one. “Although considering the humiliation Spike suffered that night, it might prove rather difficult.”

“Challenge set then,” Buffy said with a small grin. “Although if I’m going to go with you tonight, I probably need to take a nap. I was up early this morning.” She paused and frowned. “Or maybe yesterday morning. I don’t even know anymore.”

“Of course. I’ll be down the hall in the study if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you, Giles,” Buffy said, giving the man one more hug before he left her alone in the bedroom.

Buffy took off her shoes before she climbed into the bed, smiling at the feel of a familiar mattress beneath her. Her last thought before she drifted off to sleep was that coming to England had definitely been a good decision.

*** *** ***


Buffy didn’t know where exactly she’d expected someone named Spike to live, but it certainly hadn’t been at a place like this. This place…

Well, she half expected Mr. Darcy to come running out at any moment.

“This is one of those British estates I’ve heard so much about?” Buffy asked with a small smile as Giles drove his car up the drive.

“Yes, it is.”

“So Spike’s loaded?”

Giles chuckled. “He’s the last member of a very powerful and influential family. Granted, he’d rather pull out his own teeth than admit that most of the time, but he held onto the estate. He spends most of his time in his flat in London, but he does come out here, as well.”

“I’d keep this place, too,” Buffy said as they pulled closer. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Perhaps sometime you can come visit me in the spring and I can convince Spike to let us see the gardens,” Giles suggested. “They’re not much more than snow this time of year.”

“I’d like that,” Buffy replied, hardly able to believe she was even going to be in a place like this. And there was something about this house especially. One glance and she’d fallen in love…

Giles brought the car around to the back of the house where they were immediately greeted with a valet. Once at the door, they met another servant, who took their coats and ushered them towards the party itself. All Buffy could do was gape, dumbfounded, and while she knew she probably looked like some very uncultured American, she didn’t care. She’d never seen a home like this in her life.

Which was why she was completely unaware of their host until he was standing right in front of them.

“Spike, I’d like to introduce you to my step-daughter…”

Before Giles could give her name, Buffy looked up, her jaw dropping as she realized whose home they were in. He gaped at her with a similar expression before gasping out, “Buffy?”

“William?”

Giles joined them with a shocked expression of his own. “You two know each other?”

“He…he gave a reading at my school,” Buffy explained. “Back in October.”

Spike scratched the back of his head as he shifted nervously. “We talked for a bit afterwards. Buffy’s…a real bright girl.”

Buffy had to keep herself from snorting at that. Ask her out for drinks, spend all night talking to her, then run off saying he had a wife, and he was going to call her a “real bright girl”?

“Well, this is certainly unexpected,” Giles commented.

“You’re telling me,” Buffy replied, giving Spike, or William, or whoever the hell he was the evil eye. In the weeks since the reading, she’d decided she didn’t like him. He may be attractive, sure, but men with wives who flirted with college girls and bought them coffee were jerks. Even if they did mention said wife and flee the scene before things got too heated. “Now how about I leave you two alone to catch up while I go have a drink.” She turned on her heel and headed towards the bar.

“Oh, balls,” Spike muttered and started after her, only to stop when Giles stepped in front of him.

“Seeing as that girl is the closest thing I have to a daughter, mind telling me what’s going on here?”

Spike sighed, peeking around the other man to make sure he didn’t lose sight of Buffy. “It wasn’t really anything, Rupert. She came to one of my readings, we had coffee, and that was it.”

Giles eyed him warily. “It doesn’t seem like that was…” He stopped in mid-sentence. “Wait, is she the one you’ve been talking about?”

“Yes. And now that I know you’re practically her father. Awkward.”

“Yes, just a tad,” Giles replied. He cleared his throat. “You should talk to her. At least tell her the truth, Will.”

“Yeah, I should,” Spike agreed. “Make sure no one starts dancing naked on the tables while I’m gone?”

Giles smiled. “I’ll be sure to ask them all to wait until you return.”

Spike clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks, mate. I’ll be back.”

“I thought you were too young to drink,” Spike said as he approached Buffy, watching her as she sipped from the glass in her hand.

She turned around, glaring daggers at him. “That was in America. This is merry ol’ England. So where’s your wife?”

Spike sighed. Of course she wasn’t going to make this easy for him. “Hell if I know. I haven’t seen the woman in five years.”

“Huh?” Buffy asked, her brow wrinkling in confusion.

“Look, can we go talk somewhere else? There’s…there’s been things I’ve been regretting ever since we met, things I really wish I’d said, and now you’re here, and I’ve got a second chance, but…”

“It’s a little loud and crowded in here?”

Spike grinned softly as she finished his sentence for him, and Buffy felt the same warming in the pit of her stomach she had when she’d first met him. She took a quick drink, hoping she could make it go away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I won’t keep you away long, I promise.”

Buffy was so not going to do that. After all, the only thing worse than going out for coffee when you were already involved was pretending to be already involved so you could ditch your coffee date.

“Okay.”

Buffy kicked herself internally. Dammit…

“Follow me then,” Spike said as he started to walk off. Buffy set her drink back on the bar and followed.

He led her down a long hallway into a room that looked much more modern than the rest of what she’d seen. There was a television, a stereo, and a high-end laptop computer. “This is where I write when I’m here,” Spike explained. “I needed one room that didn’t look like a total throwback.”

Buffy eyed the huge wad of crumpled paper by the garbage can. “And I guess you managed that.”

“Look, Buffy, about what happened in California, I’m sorry. You just…well, you blindsided me.”

I blindsided you?” Buffy asked, turning to face him head on, her hands planted on her hips. “You’re the one who chased me out of that reception and asked me out for coffee.”

“I know. It’s just I’d had my eye on you the entire time I was up at that podium. You were captivating. I…I’d never been that drawn to a stranger in the audience before. And then when I saw you leaving, I just reacted. I didn’t know what I wanted only that I didn’t want you to simply walk out of my life.”

“So you walked out of mine instead?” Buffy asked, accusatorily.

“I panicked,” Spike admitted. “When I saw you in the audience you were gorgeous, but then I talked to you and found out you were so much more than that. I hadn’t enjoyed talking to a woman that much in years, and I knew if I kissed you, well…”

“Well, what?” Buffy demanded when he grew silent.

“That it would be it. That I’d be head over bloody heels!” Spike yelled, the sudden rise in his voice making Buffy take a step back. “Bloody hell, Buffy, you’re a teenaged college student living half the sodding world away from me.”

“At least I’m in my late teens,” Buffy said meekly, knowing it was a pretty lame thing to say, given the situation. But here was the man she hadn’t been able to get off her mind for over a month, no matter how hard she’d tried, and he was telling her he didn’t even want to try with her?

Her admission made him pause, and he gave her a bittersweet smile as he said, “And I still haven’t been a teenager in fifteen years.”

“So? That still doesn’t mean you had to just ditch me and run off like you did. We still could’ve been… I don’t know, penpals or something?”

Penpals?” Spike asked her in disbelief.

“Or something!” Buffy yelled, throwing her hands up.

Spike snorted. “Trust me, Buffy, the way you were making me feel that night, the last thing I wanted to be was your sodding penpal.”

“Obviously you didn’t want to be my anything!”

Spike thrust his finger at her. “That isn’t true. Didn’t you listen to anything I said? I wanted you. I still want you. You’re so bloody gorgeous, even when you’re yelling at me.” He shook his head. “No, especially when you’re yelling at me. You get all flushed and your breathing gets heavy, and… Oh, sod it.”

Buffy’s eyes bulged and she let out a surprised squeak when Spike grabbed her and kissed her, his mouth hard and unyielding against hers. However, she soon gave into the kiss, and Spike wrapped his arms around her as he opened his mouth, slipping his tongue into hers to explore.

The kiss made her feel lightheaded, and Buffy held onto him for support, one hand gripping his hip while the other tangled in his brown curls. He tasted even better than she’d imagined…

Finally, he broke away, resting his forehead on hers as he struggled to right his ragged breathing. Buffy kept holding on, trembling right along with him. He lifted his head up and kissed the crown of her hair, and Buffy smiled.

“I should’ve done that back in California.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” Buffy agreed. “So there’s really not a wife around here somewhere?”

“No. Well, not around here anyway. I’m married on paper, but she’s long gone. I just panicked and used that as an excuse. I’m sorry.”

“So just to clarify so there’s no more confusion, you’re definitely single and available?”

“Yes. I am single and available.” Spike tucked a hair he’d mussed when they’d been kissing back behind Buffy’s ear. “So what does that mean for us then?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. She glanced up at him through hooded eyelids, somehow managing to look shy and sensual at the same time. “But maybe we could start by you kissing me again?”

Spike thought that was a good idea.

*** *** ***


Did anybody see that coming? Comments would be highly appreciated.





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