******

Giles pulled up to the Summers’ home shortly after nine. He parked his car, after ten minutes of fighting with the break, and got out. Ever since that night with the band candy, he was a little hesitant going there, but the note Buffy had sent him seemed urgent enough. And that was all excuse he needed.

This was business, he kept telling himself, as he approached the house. Nothing more than that. Buffy needed to speak with him in private, away from the prying eyes of her new Watcher...and who was he to argue. Besides, any chance he got to go behind the back of that sniveling, little twirp, he did with great pleasure.

It was bad enough, being relieved of his duty, but to be replaced by someone so wet behind the ears, that the only contact he had with the vampires he was going to face, was in the “controlled” environment the Council provided. And then to be so ignorant about the true dangers of the Hellmouth....

Wesley was going to die fairly quickly, Giles surmised. He only prayed that he didn’t take his Slayer with him.

Giles rang the bell, and waited. When the door slowly opened, he half expected to see Buffy at the other end. Instead, he was greeted by a somewhat older version of his Slayer.

“Oh, hello, Mrs....um Joyce,” Giles stammered out, giving a quick, shy smile.

“Mr. Giles,” Joyce smiled back, “What brings you here at this hour?” Her eyes darted down, avoiding his. God, she thought, do I look too much like the blushing schoolgirl?

When she looked back up, she noticed the same nervous expression on her visitor’s face, “I...I received a note from Buffy, to...ah...meet her here. She needed to speak with me about something.”

“Oh, really?” Joyce responded, taking the note from his hands, and reading it, “This is her handwriting,” she confirmed, “but Buffy went on patrol about an hour ago. She said it was going to be a short one, and she’d be back soon,” She hesitated, almost not wanting to say what she knew she was about to say, “Would you like to come in and wait?”

“W...well I don’t want to intrude...”

“Not at all,” Joyce replied, “If Buffy says it’s important...than you know it is. I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

Joyce stepped back from the door, allowing Giles to pass through. On his way in, he accidentally brushed up against her, causing her to jump slightly. An image of them kissing on the police car, sprang into her mind. She could almost feel his strong arms wrapping around her, as his warm lips melded against hers. Almost...

She quickly put that thought back into the corner of her mind, where she had kept it hidden since that night. She couldn’t allow herself to think of those things. She couldn’t have a relationship with him. He was her daughter’s Watcher, for god’s sake! Although, she thought, not anymore. Now, he was just...a man.

“Would you like something to drink?” she found herself asking him.

“Actually,” Giles admitted, “yes I would. Something with, perhaps a little bite?”

“That I have,” she smiled, going over to the liquor cabinet. She took out a bottle of Scotch, threw a handful of ice into two glasses, and poured the drinks for them. Part of her mind was telling her that this was a major no no, but the other part didn’t care.

She handed Giles the drink, and sat down on the couch. The same couch that they both sat on, deciding Buffy’s future, together. He was her Watcher then, Joyce reasoned, it was only logical that they worked together on seeing Buffy had somewhat of a normal life...outside of the Slaying. Of course, then came the candy...

That horrible, cursed candy. The candy that destroyed their inhibitions...and now, might very well destroy their lives.

It had been a few months since then, when Joyce knew something was wrong. She might have been going through an early menopause...but a trip to the doctor’s proved that to be only wishful thinking. Now, Joyce Summers had to, not only, deal with the fact that she was the mother of a teenage Slayer, but that she was going to be a mid-life mommy.

She was fortunate, in that she hadn’t begun to show yet. But, how long was that going to last? And how was she going to tell her daughter, when she couldn’t even bring herself to tell the father of her unborn child, even when he was sitting right in front of her?

Giles finished his drink, long before Joyce took the second sip. There was something troubling her, but he could figure out what. He couldn’t help but watch her, as she sipped her drink slowly. She seemed different to him, somehow. Almost...glowing...

“So,” he began slowly, trying to make small talk, “How is the Gallery?”

“Fine,” she said, her eyes continued to avert his, “And you? Buffy told me that you were replaced as Watcher. I’m sorry to hear that. I know you care a great deal for her, and wouldn’t have let anything hurt her...if you could.”

Thank you.”

“Is her new Watcher any good?” Joyce asked, unsure if he noticed her increase fidgeting, “I mean, is he competent?”

Giles noticed her playing with the glass, but chose to ignore it, “Well, he’s a little green,” he said diplomatically, not wanting to worry Joyce with the true level of his inexperience, “But I believe he’ll shape up nicely.” Then under his breath, he muttered, “I only hope.”

It was then that he saw she was crying. Softly at first, but the more she tried to hide it, the harder it was to stop, “Joyce,” he asked, concerned, “did I say something wrong?”

“No...no,” she sobbed, “I’ve just been...a little emotional lately. I’m sorry.”

He place his glass on the coffee table and moved closer to her. This was not just a simple case of “being emotional”, Giles was sure of it. And now, he was determined to find out the reason behind the, quite noticeable, change.

“That’s not it,” he said, gently placing his hand on top of hers, “There’s something troubling you. You’d have to be blind not to see.”

Well, this was the moment of truth...the moment she dreaded ever since she found out...

“I’m pregnant.”

The silence was almost deafening. Giles sat, staring at her, unmoving...unblinking, for what seemed like an eternity. Then, as though he was brought out of a trance, he spoke, “I see. And the father...”

“I think you already know,” she said through her tears, “God, this can’t be happening! I keep telling myself that this is some kind of sick joke, or a dream that I’ll wake up from. But, it’s not. One night!” she began to get hysterical, “One night! I can’t be the mother of an infant, not now! I’ve been through it once before...I didn’t want to do it again. I have a career...a daughter, who happens to be a Slayer....”

“Shhh....shhh,” Giles said, soothingly, pulling her closer to him. He rested her head on his chest and gently stroked her hair, “It’s going to be fine...I promise. Please, don’t cry.”

She picked up her head and looked into his hazel eyes. Her eyes were red from crying, and yet Giles couldn’t imagine why he never noticed how beautiful she really was. Perhaps it was the distance he placed between them, not wanting a relationship with the mother of his charge, that made him turn a blind eye. But he wasn’t a Watcher anymore, and she wasn’t just the Slayer’s mom.

She was a woman, who was going to be the mother of his child.

He took his finger, wiped a tear from her eye, and smiled, “That’s better.”

Joyce gave a small sniffle and sighed, “What are we going to do?”

With that, Giles stroked her cheek and said, “This.”

His lips met hers, and locked in a passionate embrace that deepened with every passing second. It was as though he was Ripper again, full of fire...full of life. And she loved every minute of it. He pulled her body closer to him, almost to the point of fusion, not wanting to let go...not wanting it to end.

When they parted, Joyce could see the intensity in his eyes, and knew what was coming next. They stood up, and with one sweeping motion, Giles picked Joyce up in his arms. He began to make his way upstairs, kissing her softly on her neck.

She smiled, “Not that I want it to stop. But, what are we doing?”

“Picking up where we left off,” he sigh deeply, brushing his lips against hers, “Which is something we should have done a while ago.”

And as he took her into her bedroom, closing the door behind him, she added, “You know, we are going to have a hard time explaining this one. It’s not like we can blame it on candy.”

“So who do you want to blame?”

Joyce thought about it, as he laid her on the bed, “Being so close to Valentine’s day...I’d say cupid.”

******

Sitting on the tree, outside Joyce’s bedroom, a small figure watched with glee, “Who needs arrows, when a simple letter, and a little love potion will do.”

With a wink and a puff of smoke, the little being disappeared, leaving the man and the woman alone in a, well deserved, moment of happiness.

The end? Happy Valentine’s Day! :)