** She shut the hotel door and leaned against it, grinning. "So, husband, what does one normally do on a honeymoon?"
"Well, one usually eats good food, enjoys the pleasures of having no vampires to kill and sees the sights, among other things," he teased.
"Cool. Where do you want to go first? I hear there's some great-" she was cut off as her husband claimed her mouth in a steamy kiss.
"I guess you don't want to go sight-seeing," she commented after a while.
"The view here is much better," he agreed as he tried to undo the tiny buttons on her blouse. Eventually he gave up and ripped it open.
She gasped, and said, "Eager much?"
"Very."
"Good."
They began kissing again, working their way to the bed and leaving a trail of clothes behind them. His talented hands and mouth drove her crazy, and she could hardly believe how much she wanted him . . .**
"Buffy!"
She woke to find Willow shaking her roughly and shouting in her ear. It was all she could do not to hit her friend.
"What?" she asked grumpily.
"You were dreaming. It's ok now-"
"You woke me up?" Buffy was not quite processing yet.
"You were moaning, and you only do that when you're - oops! I'm so sorry Buffy. I thought it was only a nightmare. Oh no, I'm so sorry."
Buffy just glared at her friend.
"I'm going somewhere else now."
"Good plan," Buffy advised her flatly.
She lay back to try to sort things through in her mind. The sun was shining brightly so she was not going to sleep anymore, but the dream had raised some questions. I really wanted him, she thought. While she slept she had not really processed that it was Giles, but she knew she never expected it to be anyone else. Even Angel. She stopped and examined that thought. I didn't even think of Angel. I haven't thought of him since this started. Since way before this started. Why is that? And why didn't I notice?
***
Xander followed the smell of cooking to the kitchen and found Giles in front of the stove stirring something in a frying-pan.
"Fry-up?" he asked hopefully.
He had not realised until he moved in with the Gang how good a cook Giles was, particularly at this fat laden English breakfast. Giles had told him that a lot of students in England (including himself years before) would have one when they got in from a night at the pub. Xander had not believed him until he came home from the Bronze one evening and found Giles busily frying. He had suddenly felt incredibly hungry and wolfed down a large plateful while the girls looked on in disgust. It was just one of the many things that made living here so good, and he really hoped that this situation was not going to end the arrangement.
In answer Giles cracked a couple of eggs into the pan.
When they both had plates of steaming food in front of them and Xander had taken the immediate edge off his hunger he said, "So, do you want to tell me why you slept down on the sofa?"
"How do you know I slept there?"
"I woke up in the night and needed something to eat."
"Oh." Giles concentrated on cutting his bacon, but he could feel the boy's eyes on him. "It seemed too . . . empty upstairs. I couldn't sleep."
"Buffy." Xander stated. He had guessed how the older man felt about his friend over a year ago, and could see that this was tearing him apart. Giles did not say anything, but the pain in his eyes told him everything. Xander could be blind to many things, but he was an expert at weird and messed up relationships. He only had to look at him and Anya to see that. Knowing about his feelings and having evidence that Buffy returned them were two different things though. And the current situation was weird even by Hellmouth standards. "If it helps, she doesn't blame you. This may even be waking her up. I can't believe I'm saying this."
Giles smiled at the boy, surprised by his astuteness. He was more observant than they gave him credit for. He was also far more accepting of things than he had thought he would be, particularly after his reaction to Angel in the past. Maybe in this at least they had something in common. I never thought I'd have something in common with Xander Harris, of all people.
He said nothing of those thoughts, instead quietly saying, "It does help. Thank you."
They shared an understanding smile and carried on eating.
"You know, this is much better than the cold pizza I had yesterday," Xander said after a while.
***
Buffy stood in front of her mirror debating outfits. She did not even know why it was such a problem. Normally on a Sunday morning she would just slouch around in shorts and a top unless she had to go out. But somehow that felt to revealing and worst of all too slobby. She rejected the sweats and large T-shirt out of hand as being far too messy, even though they covered her perfectly. Anything else she wore would look too dressy for her usual Sunday morning. Face it Buffy. You are going crazy. You want to look nice, but you're afraid someone will notice that you want to look nice. You're afraid he will notice you want to look nice. And worrying about how revealing your outfit is is plain ridiculous. If he gets any of the flashbacks or dreams you've been having he won't have imagine what you look like anyway.
She flopped down on the bed with a loud groan. It was at this point that Willow poked her head round the door.
"Is it safe for me to enter?" she asked.
Buffy gestured her in and watched while she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.
"I'm sorry," Willow apologised again.
"I thought you said I've been having dreams before," Buffy said crossly.
"You have. You just don't normally . . . moan in them. You talk, or mutter or sometimes hug your pillow, but usually you moan when you're having nightmares so I assumed . . . and I'm sorry," Willow finished quietly.
Buffy paused for a moment, then said, "Apology accepted."
Willow grinned and sat down next to her friend. "So, what'd I interrupt?"
"Willow! I'm not telling you that. It's too . . . personal."
"Must have been good if you won't tell me."
Buffy blushed as an image of the buttons on her blouse flying across the hotel room flashed across her mind.
"Wow." Willow breathed as she saw the blush. "Was it better than the shower?"
"When does Oz come back?"
"Tomorrow," Willow answered, puzzled by the sudden change of subject.
"Can't you ask him to come back sooner? Like now? Then you get smoochies with him instead of living through my flashbacks."
*finis*