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An untitled (but authorially okayed!) bit of fluff in Antenna's Core Fourverse. Well, really it's an AU of the 'verse in which the Scoobies have responded to some negative views of their relationship by moving to England.
[No, I didn't forget about those top fives. Coming soon. :)]
When Xander let himself and his shopping bags into the flat, the hall was dark but there was a light under the study door and both light and noise coming from the kitchen. He locked the door, checked by feel that all the amulets were still aligned on the frame, and then scooped up the bags and followed the noise. "So. Word to the wise," he said. "In England, they keep the drugs behind the counter."
Willow looked up and moved her cookbook over on the checkered tablecloth to make room for him. "They do that at home." She rubbed Xander's arm when he put the shopping bags down, then tugged on his sleeve until he leaned in to kiss her. He teased her a little bit, going for her nose first, then her chin, before he let her capture his lips. "Mmm. Oh!" she looked back at the book. "Two tablespoons, Buffy. Diced."
"Hang on." Buffy turned away from the cutting board, blinking. "I'm still getting over the onions. Yargh. Hey, Xan." She went over to the sink to wash her hands.
"Hey, Buff." She didn't turn around when he went over, so he just rubbed her back as he passed on the way to put a jar of honey in the cupboard. "No, I mean all the drugs. Including asprin. And the miracle breathe-again pills. You have to ask someone, and that someone, who might be a scarily attractive woman, wants to know your symptoms. It's like going to the doctor in front of a bunch of British people. And the stuff all has porn names."
Willow frowned. "Porn names?"
He pulled a box out of the bag. "Night Nurse?"
"Porn names," Buffy agreed.
"Not all of 'em, though." Willow went rummaging. "Look, this is like Theraflu... Lemsip isn't a porny name."
"Yeah, but it sounds like a bad guy on Star Trek. The evil alliance of Lemsip and Strepcil! Muhuahahaha!!" He made the Strepcil box jump on top of the Lemsip.
"Will?" Buffy turned around from the counter, knife in hand. "Two tablespoons of what?"
"Ginger. Diced." Willow put the Lemsip on top of the Strepcils and went back to the cookbook. "Add it to the hot oil with the garlic and cook briefly before adding the chopped onion."
"Briefly? How long is briefly?" Buffy squinted at the stove, then peered into the big red pot on a front burner. "Do we know how hot is hot?"
"Put a piece of onion in and see if it sizzles." Xander reached around her to put away a box of tea. "It's what Giles does," he said, when she looked at him.
"Mm." Buffy dropped a piece of onion into the pot and poked it with a spatula when nothing happened. "What was I doing while you were paying attention to Giles?"
It was weird - okay, really disturbing - to Xander that he could still think things like Screwing Deadboy, probably at the same time that he wanted to kiss the little worry-bumps and the anxious pout off Buffy's face. "Well, you do a lot of saving the world, Buff," he said. "I don't know how he, uh, cleans a broadsword or anything like that." He smoothed her hair.
"And when he was making soup last week you were paying attention to me." Willow came around to hug her from behind. "Which was a very worthy project."
"Yeah. Or I was busy trying to cough my head off." Buffy leaned into Willow's embrace, but didn't look much happier.
"How's he doing?" Xander asked.
Buffy frowned harder.
"He's Mr. Crankypants," Willow said, snuggling Buffy more. "He dissed the special sore-throat tea Buffy made him and went and made his own tea." She kissed the side of Buffy's neck. "With lots of martyr-y handwashing, even though there's no way he could make us sick, since. We gave it to him. And then he went and hid in the study."
Xander leaned over and gave in to the urge to kiss Buffy's forehead. "He'll be okay. We all got better and he will too."
"I know. I just... I wanna help, and he's acting like we're kids and can't." She poked at the onion again. "Though he might be right when it comes to soup."
"Hey. You'll make awesome soup." Xander took the spatula away from her and wrapped his arms around both his girls. "Giles-class awesome soup."
"I'll settle for Giles-acceptable soup," she mumbled into his sweater.
Xander met Willow's eyes over Buffy's bent head. She okay? he mouthed.
Willow frowned, but nodded before giving Buffy another little kiss.
"I'll go check on him. Get my share of cranky Giles." Xander kissed Buffy's ear, then Willow's neck, which made her squeak. "See if he's changed his mind about the tea."
"Take him some orange juice," Buffy ordered. "He should have fluids. Do you think he'll let you take his temperature?"
"Lemme test the waters first. Okay?"
"Okay." Buffy nuzzled against Xander. "We kept asking him how he felt and what he wanted but he just got all quiet and grumpy."
Grumpy's a good sign, Xander didn't say. Grumpy is better than silent. "I'll go check," he said again.
***
Giles was on the couch, bundled up in the plaid blanket that had lived on the back of his sofa in Sunnydale, with the tissue box beside him and the trash can pulled up nearby. He had a book on his knees but his glasses were off and the bleary, blinky look he gave Xander made it pretty clear that he hadn't been reading for a while. When Xander came into the study, Giles straightened up, making embarassed h'rmish noises and pushing away the blanket. "Xander, hello." He sounded croaky and hoarse; no wonder Buffy had been trying to get him to drink the sore-throat tea.
"Nah, don't get up." Xander sat down next to him, moving the blanket like he didn't want to sit on it and just coincidentally was covering Giles' toes back up. "The girls are being girly; I need a break. Man-time."
That got him a smile and a creaky chuckle. Xander grinned back and squeezed Giles' foot through the blanket. When the smile stayed, he pulled both Giles' feet into his lap and started rubbing them.
"How was your interview with Quentin?" Giles asked.
"Weird. He called me Mr. Harris and gave me tea and didn't write down anything I said."
"Did he look like he was sucking on lemons the entire time?"
"Pretty much."
"Accepting the authority of the Slayer must be a bitter pill for him. Oh..." Giles sighed as Xander dug his thumbs into the balls of Giles' feet. "Mmm."
That looked like an opening, but a pretty small one. Xander didn't press it. "Seems like he's swallowing it, though." He kept working on Giles' feet, carefully keeping his eyes down when Giles pulled a few tissues out of the box and blew his nose, first quietly, then a little louder. "He took me down to the armory. Is it a real labryinth down there or do they just keep it up for the tourists?"
"It's real enough. I was lost there for three-quarters of an hour once." Giles leaned back against the corner of the sofa.
"But then your librarian-fu revived and you remembered the way out?"
"Then I found a junior clerk who showed me the way out. At least we didn't come across Quentin." Giles sighed, grabbed another tissue, and blew his nose again. "Ugh."
Now that was an opening. "The Scooby Crud is evil," Xander agreed. "I apologize for letting it into the relationship. Though it's kinda a milestone. Our first plague. We could frame a tissue or something."
"Frames should be reserved for rare artifacts." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good Lord." He rubbed his face and straightened up. "At least we got it more or less serially, rather than all at once. Thought I wasn't going to get it at all," he finished in a mumble.
"After Buffy got it? Come on. When the Slayer goes down, we're doomed. So." He patted Giles' leg. "What can I give ya? Throat stuff, cough stuff, nose stuff? I earned it all by being a stupid American in front of a lot of attractive English women, so if you don't need it, please lie."
Giles made a snorting noise between a laugh and a cough. "Decongestant? And perhaps some paracetamol?" he asked hesitantly.
"Sure. I think Buffy'd like it if you let her give it to you, though."
Giles nodded, then frowned. "What? Why?"
"You might've noticed that she's got her Mama Bear thing on big-time." Xander nodded towards the kitchen. "She's making soup."
"Dear Lord." Giles swung his feet down to the floor. "We'd better go supervise."
***
Buffy was all over Giles the second they walked into the kitchen: sitting him down at the table, tucking the blanket around his shoulders, making sure he had tissues, feeling his forehead and pouring him orange juice, until he finally rasped "Buffy, please, don't flutter." Then she settled down to cooking again, under Willow's cookbook instructions and Giles' advice. While she was shredding cooked chicken off the bone, Xander mixed up a packet of Lemsip in hot water, like it said on the box, and gave it to Giles in his special green mug.
"I can manage a mug, thank you very much," he grumped when Willow and Xander watched him drink the hot medicine.
"I know," Willow said. "But you don't always say when you feel yucky, or tell us what you need, so we have to observe. Besides," she put her chin in her hand. "You're really cute with your hair all rumpled like that."
Giles half-raised a hand to smooth his hair, then put it down, then seemed torn between ducking his head and glaring at Willow. He finally just coughed at his Lemsip and let Willow rub his back.
"Okay!" Buffy carefully poured one ladle's worth of soup into a bowl and brought it to Giles. "Test time." She handed him a spoon and then got very busy washing the cutting board while he stirred and tasted.
"Buffy," he said. When she spun around he held out an arm and beckoned her closer. "It's lovely," he told her. "Thank you. Particularly for going to the trouble when I was such a bear about the... hot drink."
Buffy smiled. Xander could see her relaxing for the first time since he'd come in the door. She leaned into Giles' one-armed hug and petted his hair. "Tea," she said. "Kidding," she added, when he got the Mr. Crankypants face again. "Weedy hippie crap?"
"Not crap, really, just... not tea." He pulled away from Buffy. "Sorry... 'scuse..." He grabbed a tissue just in time to cover a loud sneeze.
"Bless you."
"Bless."
"Gesundheit."
Giles' ears turned red as he blew his nose. "Don't really need to do that," he mumbled.
Buffy looked at him thoughtfully. "Too fluttery?" she asked.
He threw away the tissues and stared into his mug. "Well. I've had, er, a number of years to become accustomed to, um."
"Suffering all alone?" Willow petted him, frowning when he went stiff under the touch.
"N-not having an, an audience."
Xander took Giles' bowl and put more soup in it.
Buffy nodded. "No blessing?"
"It... from all three of you..." Giles shrugged.
"No blessing." Buffy nodded again, firmly. "And maybe we could bring you tea and then leave you alone?"
"Well... if, if, perhaps... I could be in the room but not so much the center of attention."
"No fluttering." Buffy looked at Willow. Willow made puppy eyes. "I don't know if we can do no fluttering. Less fluttering? A little bit of fluttering?"
"I could perhaps become accustomed to a bit of fluttering," he agreed, blushing again.
[No, I didn't forget about those top fives. Coming soon. :)]
When Xander let himself and his shopping bags into the flat, the hall was dark but there was a light under the study door and both light and noise coming from the kitchen. He locked the door, checked by feel that all the amulets were still aligned on the frame, and then scooped up the bags and followed the noise. "So. Word to the wise," he said. "In England, they keep the drugs behind the counter."
Willow looked up and moved her cookbook over on the checkered tablecloth to make room for him. "They do that at home." She rubbed Xander's arm when he put the shopping bags down, then tugged on his sleeve until he leaned in to kiss her. He teased her a little bit, going for her nose first, then her chin, before he let her capture his lips. "Mmm. Oh!" she looked back at the book. "Two tablespoons, Buffy. Diced."
"Hang on." Buffy turned away from the cutting board, blinking. "I'm still getting over the onions. Yargh. Hey, Xan." She went over to the sink to wash her hands.
"Hey, Buff." She didn't turn around when he went over, so he just rubbed her back as he passed on the way to put a jar of honey in the cupboard. "No, I mean all the drugs. Including asprin. And the miracle breathe-again pills. You have to ask someone, and that someone, who might be a scarily attractive woman, wants to know your symptoms. It's like going to the doctor in front of a bunch of British people. And the stuff all has porn names."
Willow frowned. "Porn names?"
He pulled a box out of the bag. "Night Nurse?"
"Porn names," Buffy agreed.
"Not all of 'em, though." Willow went rummaging. "Look, this is like Theraflu... Lemsip isn't a porny name."
"Yeah, but it sounds like a bad guy on Star Trek. The evil alliance of Lemsip and Strepcil! Muhuahahaha!!" He made the Strepcil box jump on top of the Lemsip.
"Will?" Buffy turned around from the counter, knife in hand. "Two tablespoons of what?"
"Ginger. Diced." Willow put the Lemsip on top of the Strepcils and went back to the cookbook. "Add it to the hot oil with the garlic and cook briefly before adding the chopped onion."
"Briefly? How long is briefly?" Buffy squinted at the stove, then peered into the big red pot on a front burner. "Do we know how hot is hot?"
"Put a piece of onion in and see if it sizzles." Xander reached around her to put away a box of tea. "It's what Giles does," he said, when she looked at him.
"Mm." Buffy dropped a piece of onion into the pot and poked it with a spatula when nothing happened. "What was I doing while you were paying attention to Giles?"
It was weird - okay, really disturbing - to Xander that he could still think things like Screwing Deadboy, probably at the same time that he wanted to kiss the little worry-bumps and the anxious pout off Buffy's face. "Well, you do a lot of saving the world, Buff," he said. "I don't know how he, uh, cleans a broadsword or anything like that." He smoothed her hair.
"And when he was making soup last week you were paying attention to me." Willow came around to hug her from behind. "Which was a very worthy project."
"Yeah. Or I was busy trying to cough my head off." Buffy leaned into Willow's embrace, but didn't look much happier.
"How's he doing?" Xander asked.
Buffy frowned harder.
"He's Mr. Crankypants," Willow said, snuggling Buffy more. "He dissed the special sore-throat tea Buffy made him and went and made his own tea." She kissed the side of Buffy's neck. "With lots of martyr-y handwashing, even though there's no way he could make us sick, since. We gave it to him. And then he went and hid in the study."
Xander leaned over and gave in to the urge to kiss Buffy's forehead. "He'll be okay. We all got better and he will too."
"I know. I just... I wanna help, and he's acting like we're kids and can't." She poked at the onion again. "Though he might be right when it comes to soup."
"Hey. You'll make awesome soup." Xander took the spatula away from her and wrapped his arms around both his girls. "Giles-class awesome soup."
"I'll settle for Giles-acceptable soup," she mumbled into his sweater.
Xander met Willow's eyes over Buffy's bent head. She okay? he mouthed.
Willow frowned, but nodded before giving Buffy another little kiss.
"I'll go check on him. Get my share of cranky Giles." Xander kissed Buffy's ear, then Willow's neck, which made her squeak. "See if he's changed his mind about the tea."
"Take him some orange juice," Buffy ordered. "He should have fluids. Do you think he'll let you take his temperature?"
"Lemme test the waters first. Okay?"
"Okay." Buffy nuzzled against Xander. "We kept asking him how he felt and what he wanted but he just got all quiet and grumpy."
Grumpy's a good sign, Xander didn't say. Grumpy is better than silent. "I'll go check," he said again.
***
Giles was on the couch, bundled up in the plaid blanket that had lived on the back of his sofa in Sunnydale, with the tissue box beside him and the trash can pulled up nearby. He had a book on his knees but his glasses were off and the bleary, blinky look he gave Xander made it pretty clear that he hadn't been reading for a while. When Xander came into the study, Giles straightened up, making embarassed h'rmish noises and pushing away the blanket. "Xander, hello." He sounded croaky and hoarse; no wonder Buffy had been trying to get him to drink the sore-throat tea.
"Nah, don't get up." Xander sat down next to him, moving the blanket like he didn't want to sit on it and just coincidentally was covering Giles' toes back up. "The girls are being girly; I need a break. Man-time."
That got him a smile and a creaky chuckle. Xander grinned back and squeezed Giles' foot through the blanket. When the smile stayed, he pulled both Giles' feet into his lap and started rubbing them.
"How was your interview with Quentin?" Giles asked.
"Weird. He called me Mr. Harris and gave me tea and didn't write down anything I said."
"Did he look like he was sucking on lemons the entire time?"
"Pretty much."
"Accepting the authority of the Slayer must be a bitter pill for him. Oh..." Giles sighed as Xander dug his thumbs into the balls of Giles' feet. "Mmm."
That looked like an opening, but a pretty small one. Xander didn't press it. "Seems like he's swallowing it, though." He kept working on Giles' feet, carefully keeping his eyes down when Giles pulled a few tissues out of the box and blew his nose, first quietly, then a little louder. "He took me down to the armory. Is it a real labryinth down there or do they just keep it up for the tourists?"
"It's real enough. I was lost there for three-quarters of an hour once." Giles leaned back against the corner of the sofa.
"But then your librarian-fu revived and you remembered the way out?"
"Then I found a junior clerk who showed me the way out. At least we didn't come across Quentin." Giles sighed, grabbed another tissue, and blew his nose again. "Ugh."
Now that was an opening. "The Scooby Crud is evil," Xander agreed. "I apologize for letting it into the relationship. Though it's kinda a milestone. Our first plague. We could frame a tissue or something."
"Frames should be reserved for rare artifacts." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose. "Good Lord." He rubbed his face and straightened up. "At least we got it more or less serially, rather than all at once. Thought I wasn't going to get it at all," he finished in a mumble.
"After Buffy got it? Come on. When the Slayer goes down, we're doomed. So." He patted Giles' leg. "What can I give ya? Throat stuff, cough stuff, nose stuff? I earned it all by being a stupid American in front of a lot of attractive English women, so if you don't need it, please lie."
Giles made a snorting noise between a laugh and a cough. "Decongestant? And perhaps some paracetamol?" he asked hesitantly.
"Sure. I think Buffy'd like it if you let her give it to you, though."
Giles nodded, then frowned. "What? Why?"
"You might've noticed that she's got her Mama Bear thing on big-time." Xander nodded towards the kitchen. "She's making soup."
"Dear Lord." Giles swung his feet down to the floor. "We'd better go supervise."
***
Buffy was all over Giles the second they walked into the kitchen: sitting him down at the table, tucking the blanket around his shoulders, making sure he had tissues, feeling his forehead and pouring him orange juice, until he finally rasped "Buffy, please, don't flutter." Then she settled down to cooking again, under Willow's cookbook instructions and Giles' advice. While she was shredding cooked chicken off the bone, Xander mixed up a packet of Lemsip in hot water, like it said on the box, and gave it to Giles in his special green mug.
"I can manage a mug, thank you very much," he grumped when Willow and Xander watched him drink the hot medicine.
"I know," Willow said. "But you don't always say when you feel yucky, or tell us what you need, so we have to observe. Besides," she put her chin in her hand. "You're really cute with your hair all rumpled like that."
Giles half-raised a hand to smooth his hair, then put it down, then seemed torn between ducking his head and glaring at Willow. He finally just coughed at his Lemsip and let Willow rub his back.
"Okay!" Buffy carefully poured one ladle's worth of soup into a bowl and brought it to Giles. "Test time." She handed him a spoon and then got very busy washing the cutting board while he stirred and tasted.
"Buffy," he said. When she spun around he held out an arm and beckoned her closer. "It's lovely," he told her. "Thank you. Particularly for going to the trouble when I was such a bear about the... hot drink."
Buffy smiled. Xander could see her relaxing for the first time since he'd come in the door. She leaned into Giles' one-armed hug and petted his hair. "Tea," she said. "Kidding," she added, when he got the Mr. Crankypants face again. "Weedy hippie crap?"
"Not crap, really, just... not tea." He pulled away from Buffy. "Sorry... 'scuse..." He grabbed a tissue just in time to cover a loud sneeze.
"Bless you."
"Bless."
"Gesundheit."
Giles' ears turned red as he blew his nose. "Don't really need to do that," he mumbled.
Buffy looked at him thoughtfully. "Too fluttery?" she asked.
He threw away the tissues and stared into his mug. "Well. I've had, er, a number of years to become accustomed to, um."
"Suffering all alone?" Willow petted him, frowning when he went stiff under the touch.
"N-not having an, an audience."
Xander took Giles' bowl and put more soup in it.
Buffy nodded. "No blessing?"
"It... from all three of you..." Giles shrugged.
"No blessing." Buffy nodded again, firmly. "And maybe we could bring you tea and then leave you alone?"
"Well... if, if, perhaps... I could be in the room but not so much the center of attention."
"No fluttering." Buffy looked at Willow. Willow made puppy eyes. "I don't know if we can do no fluttering. Less fluttering? A little bit of fluttering?"
"I could perhaps become accustomed to a bit of fluttering," he agreed, blushing again.
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Thanks for letting it be shared.
Hob
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The real thanks are due Antenna, for letting me play in her 'verse. :)
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I will never be able to view the horrid 'Night Nurse' syrup in the same way again!
*hugs!*
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*shakes dust off pen*
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