Time to party again kittens, and this time there may be some T/W goodness to provide incentive.
Title: The Holiday Fic 2002 Authors: Katharyn and Forrister. Disclaimer: Neither Katharyn or myself own these characters. Joss does. (Some people don’t appreciate things they own.) Rating: R WARNING – Parts of this fic contains smut. Yes, real smut. (I’m not responsible – that’s my co-author’s department.) I’ve been told that R is an appropriate rating for the fic as a whole. Spoilers: Everything up to the end of Season 5. Season 6 does not exist. (I’m still doing the whole refusal to live in Joss’s reality thing.) I guess you’d call this a post S5 alternate universe. I call it a much nicer place to be. Summary: Holiday travel can be so much fun. “Are we there yet?”
Thanks: To L for lending me Katharyn for fics. To Katharyn who is responsible for about 99% of the writing in the next few chapters. To the Kittens, who provide both an audience, and an excuse to write.
Chapter 3
“You know, much as I have every faith in Tara as a driver,” Giles said for what had to be the tenth time that morning, “I can’t help but worry about… it.” “You should worry,” Anya told him. It was now far too late to change his mind and allow Xander to drive his sporty little red car. Tara could have driven the station wagon up to the cabins though. Station wagon was definitely more Tara’s style.
While Xander was… a sporty little red car man. She’d been telling him that for months now. And it needed to be sportier than Giles’
Not that he would appreciate the ‘little’, if that whole car thing was really supposed to be some sort of metaphor.
Whoever had taken the smaller car got to be a couple and there was a picnic idea… they could leave early and have some alone time out in the romantic woods, in the romantic sunlight shining through romantic leaves. Anya sighed, romantically.
That had been a very good idea she’d had. And now it looked like it was going to be Tara and Willow who got to follow through on it. Which just wasn’t fair. If Xander was starting with one of those messy colds then she should have been allowed some alone time with him before they all had to huddle up in some cabin for a week.
“We’ve been through this Anya,” Giles explained to her again patiently. “You insisted that you wanted the Magic Box to be open for a couple of hours this morning.”
“Yes but-” He was making that sort of sense she hated. The sort of sense that never usually applied to vengeance demons – but all too often to humans. The sort of sense where he was right and she was wrong.
“Think of the money that we,” he paused, smiled to mollify her, “you, made this morning. We’ve been trying to dispose of Burke’s Para-astronomical Compendium for over a year – at the right price - and you managed to make the sale.” Compliments and money seemed to work the best in distracting Anya. And when you could combine the two, Giles was well aware that almost any hurdle could be overcome with his assistant.
Or as she would have it, Assistant Manager.
“Yes I think that I did do rather well there and it wasn’t being purchased for nefarious purposes,” she beamed. Money was important but she knew very well that the reasons of the customer were very important. Especially in Sunnydale. Xander had a tendency, through knowing the Slayer, to end up in danger when the wrong things were sold to the bad guys.
“Yes,” Giles replied as he lifted one of the cases into the back of the station-wagon, “lets forget my concern about my car and bring up the rather ancient history involving the sale of dangerous items. Again.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean you,” Anya reassured him. That was a human thing to do. Reassuring people. She had to reassure Xander all the time about all sorts of things, from how he looked in a suit to how big things needed to be. Then she thought about it. She was still annoyed. Reassurance wasn’t for being annoyed. “Actually, I did mean you.”
Giles glared an unfocused glare. There was likely to be a very perturbed hedge just behind Anya, getting the full, unvarnished glory of a glare like that.
“But you haven’t done it for a long time now,” she added, “and I’m sure that you won’t do it again.” Okay, so maybe, in the interests of the trip, she should be the one to make the extra effort. After all who else was going to?
The smell hit them first. “Essence of Newt combined with Jalala oil?” Giles wondered aloud.
“Oh no,” Anya replied. “That’s Xander and his stinky cold remedies.” She wondered about it though. Essence of Newt and Jalala oil might do the trick. It would decongest him and have the added benefit of transporting his nose to a timeline a few seconds behind their own – with the right incantation. That would mean that he would always be ready with a tissue to stop the mess that humans made when they were sick with colds.
And he’d have a detached nose. She liked his nose. It made his face and it rubbed…
“Xander has a cold?” Giles repeated. Wonderful. Not only were his eyes all swollen but now he was going to catch something from Xander – who with his history of weird and wonderful diseases… well who knew what he was actually suffering from? No, that was no way to think. They were going to have fun and he was going to get his diaries up to date without the pressure of making sales or helping to save the world. Only by going away was that going to happen… because every time there was a holiday in Sunnydale the world threatened to end.
Or there was an IRS audit to deal with.
He had a responsibility to get the diaries up to date – including the deadly threat of the IRS…
And Xander had a cold.
“Dello,” Xander said hearing his name being mentioned. He saw Giles take a step back but also give him an encouraging smile. Actually Giles gave the hedge behind them an encouraging smile based on where his eyes were looking, but the hedge wasn’t moving away from him and the cold that he carried. That was okay – Xander didn’t want what he’d got either. In fact he was kind of glad that he was only just starting with the cold. A several hour-long drive would have been no fun when he was really suffering.
Everyone should have been keeping well away from him. That was probably why they made remedies so stinky – to act as a warning to others to ‘stay away from the unclean one who will make you all ill.’ Anya was the only one who stuck close to him when he was ill, and she always seemed highly resistant to sickness of any kind. Sure she’d got injured a couple of times in the course of scoobyage, but she’d never been sick. Maybe that was some hangover from being a demon – but it was nice. Through colds, flu, the plague and syphilis she’d been right there… It must be love indeed. Occasionally with too many descriptions.
Not that he was feeling up to a romantic picnic. Yesterday he would have liked it to be him and Anya, but feeling as he did now it was much better that Tara and Willow had gone off in the smaller car together. Someone should have the benefit without the shivers. Plus his girlfriend was all happy at making a big sale this morning. Such happiness usually manifested itself as… fun. They’d have to see if he was up to it that evening.
Maybe, maybe not.
“I packed you a large box of man-size tissues,” Anya told him with a happy kiss. Tissues were important – there was the mess thing to be addressed and avoided.
The only thing that was a little off putting, Xander thought, while Anya was taking care of him when he was ill, was her utter delight in the symptoms he was suffering. She always wanted him to be better and she hated when his being sick got in the way of things she wanted to do, but as much as she loved him she also loved to see how things worked when people were sick – or didn’t work as the case may be.
It was an almost professional concern… as if she was job-shadowing.
It was as if, as a demon, she’d been inflicting illness and disease and she’d never had chance to stick around and really get to know what was going on with it. So whilst it was professional, it was also an almost childlike fascination. That was part of her appeal to him – whilst she was a beautiful woman, with a thousand years of existence behind her, she was also such an innocent about many things – and direct with it. Especially about what she wanted and liked. “Thanks honey,” he replied, “I think I might need them.”
“Are you alright to travel?” Giles asked, squinting to try and focus on him. It was a good job he could still see things close up, like his books and his diaries, or this was going to be a very, very dull holiday.
No not dull, Giles realized, filled with the compulsory ‘fun’ of youngsters. And undoubtedly their music as well. Yes, here came Dawn with the Ghetto Blaster into his rather limited range of focus. Oh joy. He must be really getting old if he was thinking of ‘youngsters’ that way but frankly the youngsters of today…
… Had a strength that he wouldn’t have believed possible. But with an appalling taste in music nevertheless.
“I’m good to go,” Xander replied. “At least right now.”
Dawn put her stereo in the back and turned to Xander, laid her hand on his brow knowing that she was the one female Anya would never consider that to be a threat from. Xander’s girlfriend still saw her as a little girl. Anya still called her ‘little girl’ and you know, hello… sixteen here. “You’re not hot or anything,” she told him. “We should go before you get so sick that Buffy has to drive.”
“I heard that!” Buffy called from the door as she pulled it closed behind her. “Perhaps you’d like to do the dishes all the time we’re up there? I think we’re having some food that will really stick to the plates. Plus there will be the roasting tray from Christmas Dinner… I know how you love those.”
“Me?” Dawn asked innocently. “I never… I just meant that you’ve been out slaying all night so you might want to have a sleep in the car.” She was quite pleased with that. It was both plausible and considerate.
Unfortunately her sister knew her way too well for that to work.
“Uh huh,” Buffy affirmed. “Well, get in little Miss Considerate and we’ll see about the dishes later. Wow,” she added as she watched Giles struggle to close the rear door of the station wagon. “Have you guys got enough stuff?”
“Like half of it isn’t yours Buff?” Xander asked. “You even brought your weapons bag on vacation.”
“Be prepared,” Buffy quoted. “Right Giles?”
His only immediate response was to grunt as forced the door closed.
“I still think that you should have stayed behind and kept the shop open,” Anya told her employer as they both made for the passenger seat. “We’re losing so much money and you’re all old and not needing fun like we do.”
“Thank you Anya, I do find myself,” he started to explain as he claimed the seat next to the driver, “in need of a vacation though. Money isn’t everything.”
“Well,” she started to concede, “not everything.” That was why she’d wanted to sit next to Xander.
******************
“It’s been a while now baby,” Willow said to her lover. “Do I get a turn?”
“Sweetie, you know that Mr Giles entrusted her to me,” Tara replied playing along with Willow’s little joke. She knew that Willow didn’t really want to be driving anyway.
“‘Entrusted’ is a such very strong word,” Willow suggested in reply. There’d been very little about entrusting going on when Giles had made the decision yesterday evening. It had become obvious that there was no way that he could drive up here today, not after Anya had squirted him in the eyes with fake snow, but there was also no way that the others could either leave any earlier than they’d been planning to. Buffy had to patrol and still be able to get some rest and Anya wanted to open the shop up for a couple of hours. She also thought that part of it was that there was no way that Giles was going to allow Xander to drive this car, his very expensive car, up there.
For some reason he seemed to think that Xander might do something bad to it. Not bad like crashing or anything – just like getting it stolen, scratched or picking up a load of speeding tickets. Willow knew Xander better than that – unless Anya was with him. Then he might have been speeding just to cut the journey time. Either that or she would be distracting him… as she’d suggested not very discreetly when they’d been talking about it.
So instead they’d reached an unusual arrangement. Xander was driving the station wagon up to the cabins in company with Buffy, Dawn, Mr Giles and Anya. Originally he’d been lending that to them so that they could set off early and have their picnic. Instead they were in the much more impressive BMW because, Willow liked to think, Giles trusted Tara more than he did Xander when it came to being ‘responsible’ with it.
There was also the “there’s more room” argument and a question of getting the last of the supplies, but Willow always liked to think the best of what others thought about Tara. Usually because they were people’s true opinions. Tara impressed the heck out of most people.
Tara, sweetie that she was, admitted to dismay and not being able to understand his decision – Willow was quietly happy with it. And for many reasons. First that Giles recognized just how trustworthy Tara was with things like that, second that they’d still got to leave early and have their extended picnic lunch en route to the cabins and third that they had this lovely car to go up there in. And the leather. Yum. Willow had found, with prolonged exposure, that she liked leather seats – even if she didn’t think that Giles would be very impressed by some of the ideas and activities she had planned for them.
He wouldn’t even let Dawn bring a drink into this car – frolicking was very definitely a no-no. And she knew that Tara wasn’t likely to go along with it for that very reason. Sometimes she was too responsible. Tara always made up for that though by being so damn wonderful.
Tara didn’t quite understand Mr Giles’ decision either – after years, reportedly, of having a car that had been a joke, which even she’d laughed at, he’d got himself a car that could have made him a babe magnet. Dawn’s term and certainly not hers, but if he got the ‘babe’ into there then he’d probably have asked her to make sure that she didn’t have anything stuck to her shoe.
There were people in the world, Tara knew, that were just not meant to have cars like this – she counted herself as one of them, and Mr Giles was probably another. They were meant to have the Citroens of this world. The old Citroens. Preferably with many previous owners but still reliable. Still, having driven it, she could see exactly what he meant about being seduced by it.
It was a smooth ride, steering was like caressing Willow. Sometimes though she liked her ride to be a little rougher… more involved. Demanding.
“He entrusted her to me,” Tara retorted. Willow, she knew was just a tiny but miffed that Mr Giles hadn’t offered to let her drive. But then the last time she had been in the passenger seat…
“Hmm. If you loved me-” Willow started to say playfully, but Tara interrupted her.
“Don’t even try that sweetie, you know that I love you more than the world, but that isn’t playing fair.” Tara knew that they were both still joking.
Willow had been playing but she had to admit to herself that she did still actually covet the driver’s position. If Tara had pulled over then and offered to let them trade places then she would have done so in a second. It must have been her competitive nature – and the part of her that craved approval from Mr Giles. If they switched and she could tell him that she’d driven up there and the car was fine anyway then that would get his approval.
Still, she thought, it was Tara, her girlfriend that had been entrusted with the task and the car – and most definitely not Xander’s girlfriend. Every time that she or Tara could put one over on Anya she just had to appreciate it – even if Tara would never ever actually try to do that. And when Anya had suggested that she be allowed to drive it as Giles’ Assistant Manager, instead of Xander, Willow had loved the heck out of the snort of laughter that the owner of the Magic Box had let out. A snort that had been followed by a quickly stifled, full belly laugh.
Stifled because Anya’s glare, when she’d been a demon, probably would have turned them all to stone. It was still pretty scary now – but Willow knew that she could be scary too. She could be scary, right? Maybe not as scary as Anya. But Giles had kind of gotten used to his employee and that was what Anya was.
Just an employee.
Whilst she and Tara were volunteers… friends and volunteers. They had the moral high ground – if not the money – from helping him out.
Willow knew that he’d been laughing as much at the Assistant Manager description as he had been at the idea of letting Anya drive this car again. He knew very well, from the insurance company, just what had happened the last time that Anya had driven this car. Okay, Willow had been there too, which might have mitigated against her as well, and there had been troll involvement. And okay, so Anya had taken actual driving lessons since then, but she just loved it when Anya had her nose put out of joint.
It was fun. More so because now Anya couldn’t have her romantic picnic – copied of course from Tara’s idea. Well, less copied and more probably sort of suggested by Tara for Xander and Anya to enjoy if they were the ones who went up first. Tara, for some bizarre reason that Willow had never figured out, actually liked Anya. And Anya liked Tara – in her own way.
Willow just didn’t get that sort of perversity. It was all against all laws of nature. Tara was so beautiful, kind, considerate and special… and Anya was… Anya.
“I’m sorry,” Willow said to her lover. And she was, she knew that Tara would never have fallen for that. Still there was something else that she had to offer. “What if…”
“Don’t say it Willow,” Tara told her, knowing that tone of voice.
“What?”
“Whatever it is that you’re going to offer me – this, Mr Giles’s trust is more important than playing out games,” Tara replied. She knew the tone because it was the one in which Willow tended to promote some of their more fun filled and outrageous times. Their time together, alone. Sometimes Willow would pretend to be ‘hurt’ by a lack of attention. Sometimes she would make little bargains. Sometimes she would offer Tara things and sometimes she would ask for them. Pretty much though that tended to get to involve smoochies and much more.
It was that sort of tone and she knew it well. Her heart raced every time that Willow brought it into play.
For her part Willow wasn’t absolutely convinced that Tara was as dead set against being persuaded as she might have been otherwise. Now she just had to find the right key. And she knew that the key was often hidden very close to her skin.
Very close.
So close that most times she had to get right down to bare, naked skin just to have a chance of finding it at all.
“More important than smoochies?” Willow asked playfully.
Tara fixed her eyes on the road. Oh look, there was a tree. They were into trees. More trees. “More important than smoochies.” It was a matter of trust.
“More important than…” Willow reached over and ran her hand up the inside of Tara’s thigh – not quite high enough to make her jump too much – but being very obvious.
Tara sometimes had the impression that Willow only did this to see if she could make herself irresistible – rather than for what she thought she might get out of in terms of sensual play. “M-More important than that.” She knew that she was going to get that anyway. They’d already got the cabin for two, out on their own and there was no way that either of them was going to waste that opportunity to be alone. Totally alone and free… free to be… themselves. Without interruption, without being overheard, or burst in on.
And no monsters either.
Tara knew that her thigh was going to get stroked. She didn’t need to make deals.
“Maybe…” Willow said. She knew what was going to do the trick. She knew what she could offer… and she knew that it would work too. If Tara’s dream had been one that she wanted to follow through on.
Uh-oh, Tara could tell from the way that Willow had said ‘maybe,’ that her lover thought she’d got something. And the hand was still on her thigh. She dropped a little speed, just in case Willow distracted her too much. “Maybe?” she asked.
“Maybe… you know your dream? The reason that we decided to have a picnic?” Willow said slowly and seductively.
Ohhhh. That dream. That dream? Now? Over lunch? That was playing dirty… Of course that was kind of the point. Now she couldn’t even be sure if what Willow was suggesting was a bargain for being able to do a little driving or actually entirely the point. Willow liked to play her games. She wanted to be firm. She wanted to say no. But it was a good, good dream.
A very good dream that had been prompted by the romantic picnic idea she and Anya had thought about for their respective partners.
“Gah.”
That was all that she managed. ‘Gah.’
Willow’s hand left her thigh and rose to her ear instead. Tara was deliberately driving very carefully now. First all of all she didn’t want to crash and second she really, really didn’t want to miss the picnic site that they’d picked out on the map last night and which they’d seen a sign for a little way back. Surely no one would be out there. Not today – not so close to the holidays. It was warm enough here though… The top was down and everything, a nice sunny day. The Goddess knew that they wouldn’t want to do anything when it was chilly. Until they went up into the mountains they should be fine… and oh she wanted to do what Willow was suggesting.
If only once in her life she wanted to try that.
“Gah.”
Willow smiled, triumphant. The way that she was feeling right then she didn’t much care if she didn’t get to drive the car – she just wanted to make another one of Tara’s dream come true – true with a little extra maybe. She was pretty sure that the extra wasn't actually in Tara’s dream, but it might be after this afternoon. She’d… well she’d been feeling naughty even when she was packing the picnic basket for them. The question became should she tell Tara about that or just keep it a secret?
There was always the chance that her baby wouldn’t want to… and that would be a bad thing to find out in the middle of… passion. On the other hand a surprise wasn't a surprise if it wasn't surprising.
Tara spotted the sign that indicated that the turn off for the picnic sight was nearby but as Willow caressed her ear she almost missed it. That could have been dangerous, she thought even as she made a fairly sharp swerve to turn into it. There would have to be a strict no touching rule introduced.
But after they set off again. Not now.
Now she wanted to be touched.
She pulled up quickly, unconcerned by the fact that the site was actually visible from the road. She’d already figured that out… she could be as practical as Willow. She parked in front of the picnic tables and hit the button that raised the top back up over their heads on the convertible. The car would hide them except from certain angles and by the time anyone driving by thought to look round they’d already be round the bed and have lost sight.
That would do nicely if they were really going to do this.
Willow’s hand was on her loves own hand even as she lifted the parking break into place. Their lips were locked together even before the engine had time to die and tongues were in all the right places. Well okay not all the right places – yet – but there was promise there of things to come in the not very distant future.
“You ready to eat?” Tara finally panted.
“Oh heck yeah,” Willow told her, slipping a hand under her blouse and up until she found what she was looking for.
“That’s not what I meant,” Tara said sternly. “I’m hungry, I mean really hungry.”
“Is your tummy all rumbly?” Willow asked her moving her hand, reluctantly, downwards to that part of Tara’s torso.
Tara waited just to make sure that Willow didn’t try to go any lower, then answered her love. “It has been rumbly, it’s time to fill it up.”
Fill it up huh? Well there was always her surprise for that Willow thought as they parted and got out of the car. It was kind of a joke really, but if… no. It was just a joke. Above their heads the leaves shifted in the breeze and she could see the picnic table was dappled with sunlight as the trees blew in the wind.
Still that just made it pleasantly warm, it wouldn’t get too sweaty… unless they got more active than Tara had suggested in her dream – but that, of course, was all part of the surprise.
------------------------
It was a picnic. What else was it supposed to be? Well Tara knew what her dream had been about and she knew what Willow had meant in the car and she knew what they both wanted… but they were just sitting there eating the picnic. Chips, dips, pieces of carrot, chunks of bread. They had to eat hearty because they really didn’t know when they’d be able to eat again… it could take a long while to get to the cabins. There was even going to be a piece of chocolate cake to round it all off.
When there was a surprise on a picnic it was always a piece of chocolate cake – it was like the unwritten rule of picnicking. So much so that it really wasn't a surprise anymore… besides she was pretty sure that this surprise chocolate cake, which she hadn’t seen yet, was going to be involved in the after-picnic fun. That was the way that Willow was talking with her ‘What would it be liked to smear…?’ musings.
Willow, for her part, knew that she’d hidden another, more humorous, surprise away nicely. Tara had no idea what it was and she was certainly thinking chocolate cake. Whilst smearing the chocolate cream on Tara’s nipple and licking it off had more than a little appeal to her that wasn’t quite what Willow had in mind. There was chocolate cake – but that wasn’t the surprise. She wanted the surprise to be just that. She didn’t so much want to carry out what she was going to suggest… she just wanted to see the look in Tara’s eyes.
Maybe she’d try both… surprise Tara with the surprise that wasn't a surprise and then again with the surprise that was. Then she’d really be surprised. Probably.
“Ready for afters?” Willow asked with a smoldering look in her eyes. She was going to play this to the hilt and she knew that Tara, as much as she, was more than ready for afters. The way that she’d shifted on the bench, the way that they’d got closer and closer to each other. The way that hands had wrung in anticipation of been put to better use than just eating. They’d both been doing it and they both wanted afters… Afters was, after all, why they were here.
Afters were why they’d set off early, before anyone else.
Afters were why they wanted a picnic, alone, on the way to a place where picnics were pretty much all that they were going to have for the next few days – if the weather held anyway, and if it didn’t it would just be like an indoor picnic.
“Always ready for you,” Tara breathed as if there was anyone bar a scampering squirrel who could have overheard her. She was ready to play along. If Willow wanted to get chocolaty then that was… that was something that she could deal with and appreciate. There was a small stream just down the hill where they could get washed up after if they still felt playful – even though she had a more practical solution to hand.
Willow smiled.
Her sweetie, thought Tara, was smug and thought that she didn’t know. But she knew. She was kind of looking forward to it. Chocolate. Maybe… she should just say so. “I’ve been wondering about your surprise,” she said. “Well actually I kind of know what it is…” Tara admitted. “So I brought these.”
Tara held up the baby wipes, no doubt thinking that they would need to clean up. Well if chocolate cake was a factor then that might be the case. Willow wasn’t so sure about going with both. It might be a little much. They could save the cake for later… and the chocolate cream that topped it. Later when there would be somewhere to wash properly, when it came to smearing Willow was pretty sure that licking and sucking wouldn’t be quite enough to get rid of all the lingering stickiness.
And if you added chocolate to that… She grinned and Tara’s eyes asked the question. What?
“Just thinking of when to give you-”
“What I need?” Tara interrupted and in one movement she’d turned on the bench, her hands seeking out Willow’s cheeks. Stroking them, playing with her lover’s soft earlobes.
“Give you-” Willow tried to continue but was distracted again.
“What I want?” Tara suggested, dropping her hands to Willow’s chest instead.
“Your surprise,” Willow finally finished as she savored Tara’s caresses. “But what you want and what you need will do me for now.”
“Even if that’s you?” Tara asked her with a smile.
“Especially if it’s me.” She’d get to the other thing later… after that dream had been realized. Both of them, in the open… just a hint of danger. She wasn’t sure where her baby dreamed this stuff up but following those dreams had never failed to be fun in the past.
And she’d get her revenge, with the surprise package. She’d see the look in Tara’s eyes. She was guessing at total shock.
************* Giles sighed. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. They seemed to delight in making him sigh and took it in turns to do so. It was what passed for entertainment on the long journey. Between Buffy planning the activities of the next few days down to the smallest detail, seeming to think that in Willow’s absence there was a job to be done there, and the persistent “are we there yet?” that was every parents nightmare he was of the opinion that sighs were actually a demonstration of remarkable control.
Of course the question was the single worst thing that anyone could ask whilst on a car journey. It was the stuff of legend – though not perhaps in supernatural terms. It was possible that she really didn’t know what she was saying, but he had to agree with Willow that sometimes Anya liked to play the ‘innocent’ when her purposes were somewhat less than innocent. Xander, he was sure, was trying to look as if he was solely concentrating on the road. Anya, though, was sulking. She was sulking about not being able to sit next to Xander, but since her passing comments about ‘Oral Highway’ he’d made a decision to prevent her from going anywhere near that route and had taken the passenger seat as his own. The fact that he’d forced her to shut the shop for the ‘most profitable part of the holidays’ and then refused to let Xander, or her, drive his car and have their romantic picnic only added to her bad mood.
When Willow had been the one to get that romantic picnic instead… there had been what the Americans called a ‘minimum safe distance’ involved. And unfortunately, all cooped up in the same car, he was well inside that zone. All of that on top of the lingering bitterness about Tara and Willow getting the smaller cabin and being able to be alone together.
Alone together was a much better description than Anya had used.
Anyway it was his shiny, red, convertible, expensive car that had got out of his sight. Still better Tara as a driver than anyone else he knew. Certainly a better option than Buffy who, all things considered, was being very patient with Anya who was sat next to her in the back. Buffy was not the finest driver the school program had ever produced. He had to actually admit that he was still a little worried about her – and Dawn.
It was the first Christmas since the death of their mother and after last year’s had been filled with relief that Joyce had appeared to have got over her illness. They’d made a special effort last year and now they were making another one – this one conspicuously not in Sunnydale at all.
New place, new surroundings and hopefully some peace and quiet for anyone who wanted it. Not that Buffy appeared to be about to allow that to happen. If he was worried about Dawn and the effect of a Holiday season without her mother then Buffy seemed frantic in her attempts to plan things for them to do. Distractions no doubt, and perhaps not just for Dawn.
Willow would have been proud of her friend.
“So Dawn, tomorrow morning you, me and Xander will be going for a nature hike,” Buffy said brightly to her sister, simultaneously ticking it off on her list. Nature Hikes were very green – a renewable resource. Out where they would be staying there would be like three hundred and sixty degrees of nature all around them. They could go on a nature hike whenever there was a lull in the schedule. “Since Anya refuses to go with us.”
She saw Xander sigh, the splutter as a tickle aggravated his throat again.
“I’m not sure you realise what is out there in those woods,” Anya told her. “I do. I’ve been out in them before. Twelve-fifty-eight there was a Native American woman who wanted a pox on her lover.” Happy days. “Of course she didn’t know that it was 1258. She was quite happy not knowing about the birth of someone she’d never heard of and how long ago that had been.”
Buffy gave her a look that said ‘You are not going to spoil Dawn’s Holiday by sulking.’
Anya sighed. “I’m just saying that you should be careful – especially when Xander is with you.”
“I’m not sure I’ll make it out of bed,” Xander murmured to no one at all. No one was listening.
“She is the Slayer,” Giles noted. “I’m sure that she can deal with…” He noticed Buffy waiting for him to finish. “Sorry.”
“Besides, why isn’t Giles going on this walk?” Anya asked quickly.
“Ah, ah… I have my diaries to write up. Invaluable lore that should be recorded. I’ve been a little lax in the past-” he frowned as Anya interrupted him.
“Six years?”
“Yes exactly. There has been one crisis after another you know,” he reminded her. “We were saving the world long before you required us to do it again.”
“Buffy,” Anya told him without missing a beat, “was saving the world – sometimes Xander too – but you were the one who should have been keeping the diaries up to date. That was really you’re job wasn't it?”
“Yes,” Giles admitted sarcastically, “I really was just there to write the diaries. Never mind the countless times that I-”
“Got shot with your own crossbow!” Xander added helpfully.
“Thank you, but-”
“You got knocked unconscious a lot,” Dawn added for him, pleased to contribute.
He turned to look at her, and the look on his face must have been what made her lose her helpful smile. “No-”
“You really, really do,” Buffy told him. She reached and patted his shoulder.
“You do,” Xander confirmed.
“All right, yes I have a tendency to get knocked out but that is only because-” Giles tried to explain.
“You’re in the thick of the action,” Buffy noted deciding that they really should show a little appreciation.
“A vital part of the team,” Xander added.
“You should have been keeping the diaries up to date,” Anya insisted, talking to herself and the air.
“Hard Core,” Dawn said making up for her observation. But he just looked at her for a moment as if she was very, very strange. “Not in a porno way or anything like that.”
Everyone, for a few more moments, considered what that denial had actually suggested. Then Giles turned back to the road and took off his glasses, rubbing them with his handkerchief. It didn’t help his eyesight at all. He’d just have to trust Xander.
Oh.
“So Buffy,” Xander chirped up, “there’s no G-Man but what about Tara and Willow? Why aren’t they on the nature hike schedule?” It seemed to be a good distraction from his girlfriend’s sulking and from Giles’ feelings of uselessness. And from the cold that he could feel crawling around in his skull, blocking things up.
“Well I thought they might want to do… you know,” Buffy said.
“Have sex,” Anya chimed up. “What if me and Xander want to-”
“They might want to do the couple thing,” Buffy said quickly. “They don’t get to do that too much, there’s always someone else in the house – you and Xander live with each other already,” she explained patiently but she just knew that there was no right and final answer to this.
“Like I said… having sex,” Anya insisted. When she was right she was right.
“There’s more to being a couple than just having sex,” Dawn told her. The look on Anya’s face suggested that, whilst Dawn knew that she knew it, the idea of that applying to other people was quite possibly beyond her. But then there was more than just Anya looking at her. Buffy in particular had an inquiring look on her face. It said ‘Dawn, where did you pick up that titbit of information? There is a right answer here. Find it little sister.’
“So I hear,” she added with a weak smile.
“Yes, quite” Giles contributed. In general he preferred to skip right over any talk about Anya and Xander’s personal life but he had a feeling that this somehow wasn't the end of the topic for this week.
“Tara and Willow,” Buffy said firmly, but making a mental inscription in stone to have a long word with Dawn later, “can come with us, if they want to. The rest of us are going.”
“Except Giles,” Xander added.
“And me,” the ex-vengeance demon was determined not to be out in those woods more than she had to be. Not as a mortal. There were… various types of rabbit like creatures. And bunnies weren’t renowned for being able to break into cabins though she couldn’t have absolute faith in that. The door would stay locked when she was alone.
“Except,” Buffy admitted, “Giles and Anya.” She was beginning to understand now why she’d never wanted to be the planner before – because usually she’d have been the one trying to escape from group activity. This time it was useful to her.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Xander told them feeling a little less optimistic about the progression of his cold. But then there was the food issue. “Oooh picnic site.” There was the sign.
“Is that the picnic site?” Dawn asked.
“You’re looking forward to being out without me?” Anya asked sharply and Xander cringed. How did he keep falling into these holes? Then again life with Anya wouldn’t be the same if he weren’t digging himself out of trouble from time to time.
“Yes it is the picnic site and I meant that I was… looking forwards to lunch.” That should work, everyone knew that he loved food – so why wouldn’t have been looking forward to lunch and seeing his buds Willow and Tara? Why would he want to avoid Anya when she was still in a stinking foul mood like this? “That’s all.”
No other reason at all. None that he could think of. No sir.
“Yes,” Giles said, “I’m quite hungry too.”
Sometimes Xander could kiss the magic-shop owner. Not in a gay way of course and actually it was just this once but any man who would distract Anya from pursuing any of her more mundane forms of vengeance was okay in his book.
“There’s their car,” Dawn confirmed after they’d driven in from the sign towards the actual turn-off. It was bright red, who could miss that?
“What do you mean ‘there’s their car?’ That’s my car.’” He focused on the rear end of the car as they started to slow down. Not major damage visible from this distance and angle. “Looks alright though.”
“Don’t worry Giles,” Buffy chided him, “I am sure that Tara is taking absolutely wonderful care of your car. Just as good as you would do yourself.” That was Tara all over… she cared so much that sometimes wondered how she ever found so much to give.
“Not as good as I would,” Anya said to no-one in particular and wasn’t surprised when no-one in particular answered her. They were like that – they often ignored her, which was just rude. They kept telling her about what was rude and then they ignored her.
Giles just sighed. Again.
“They could have sold it to pay off Spike’s kitten debt,” Anya continued. Nothing would have surprised her about Willow. “Or she could have magicked it away like she did the cash register and the money and everyone would have just gone ‘Oooh Willow, what a nice trick.’ Because she’s you’re favourite isn’t she? She’d everyone’s favourite – except Xander’s of course. But if I’d scratched your car… oh no.”
Giles turned around and looked at her. It was long past time for sighing. “Anya, please…” She looked at him. “Do be quiet.”
“It should have been me and Xander who got to take it up there, then you could have driven this… thing,” Anya remarked. “But noooo you had to go and get all blinded with fake snow,” she accused him. When he looked her in the eye though she had to relent a little – it had been her finger on the can, so to speak. “Well, anyway what do you want a car that’s better for Xander’s for anyway? You have no girlfriend. You have no friends.”
“Hey!” Xander called out. There were limits, and Anya was the one that had actually caused the little mishap with that fake snow. Best, in his experience, to shut up about the things you did wrong. Either that or beg for a while.
Anya never, ever, begged though. And he really didn’t have the energy. Focusing on the road now.
“Yes… Hey!” Giles added. But it was just Anya in a bad mood as well as tactless. He’d suffered that often enough before. Never in such confined quarters for so long though. That was new and… interesting.
“It’s too cramped in here,” Anya added as she deliberately squirmed.
Giles wasn’t about to argue with that.
“I sort of like it, it’s cozy,” Dawn declared trying to keep the peace just a little longer. If they could just get to the food. Food was a great healer – and Tara and Willow would be with them too.
“Guys,” Buffy knew that it was time to take charge. “Were here, lets just try and be nice and not spoil Tara and Willow’s day. Okay?”
There were nods. “Okay Anya?” she felt compelled to ask. Just to be certain.
“What?!” Anya retorted. Then hissed, “Oh no can’t trust the ex-demon to behave, anyone would think that…” She had to stop speaking though so that she could use more of her brain to make sure that she was not, in fact seeing things. Buffy seemed to be in the same predicament.
Buffy looked out of the window and… The first thing she did was slap her hand over Dawn’s eyes which, of course, just made her sister squirm and try to get free. “Dawn. Keep your eyes closed.”
“Has someone pranged my car?” Giles asked, fixated on checking it as they drove up. If checking with his bad eyes meant crawling on his hands and knees then that was what he’d do.
“Like I can see anyway with you’re hands over my eyes, get off!” Dawn protested as she tried to break free. Buffy mustn’t have been using her Slayer strength this time - which was never fair in their fights.
“Is it a scratch?” Giles asked, searching almost blindly for what had alarmed them.
“Is there a funny thing?” Xander had to ask, sniffing, and then found Anya’s hands on each side of his face from behind. “Ahh hun? Driving here.”
“So drive. Eyes on the road, eyes on the road,” Anya insisted.
“My eyes are on the road,” then he got it. There was something… there was something that was Tara and Willow going on. That must be it. He tried to turn his head but Anya was quite firm.
“What are Tara and Willow doing?” Dawn asked as she struggled.
Everyone just stopped speaking or struggling. That was a very pertinent question. Insightful. And it was important to foster a culture of curiosity in someone Dawn’s age.
Buffy paused. What to say? What to say? “Eating,” she said weakly. “Just eating I think.”
“Is there a dent? There better not be a dent.”
“Are you even on this planet?” Anya asked her employer. Could anyone really be that self-obsessed? “Tara and Willow are out there-”
“Eating,” Buffy said firmly. “Xander drive on.”
Giles finally understood that no one was looking at his car. No one who could see or had the freedom to turn their head at all. He was aware of Anya controlling Xander’s direction of gaze. He might have been old but he knew when not to turn his own head at all – if there was even the slightest chance that his eyes would work for him now then they really shouldn’t be.
Privacy was a thing he treasured too.
“Drive on?” Xander asked. This was what he thought it was then… Yes. Drive on.
Dawn eventually got free of Buffy and it was too late for her sister to do anything about what she saw, even as Xander started to pull away again. “Is that a cucumber?” she asked.
Another very pertinent question.
Buffy was forced to turn her head to check and… “I think so,” she said. She really wasn't up to thinking of a possible answer that wouldn’t be well… worse to try and explain.
They pulled out onto the highway again and Giles was quite proud of the fact that he’d managed, in the circumstances, to restrain himself from checking the side of the car – which would have meant turning his head and taking the chance of a miracle recovery occurring.
He didn’t want to recover for that. Tara and Willow deserved their privacy.
“A cucumber,” Dawn mused, “that’s so…” She trailed off as everyone, including briefly the freed Xander, turned to look at her. Oops. Willow had just said Tara really liked a piece of cucumber when they’d arrived home with the shopping yesterday evening, she’d not mentioned what her surprise was… “I have no idea what that is. Honest.” They turned away from her again. Had anyone actually bought that? Well Mr Giles was old… he might not know. He was blind too. He might have believed in her innocence.
“It’s a vegetable from the gourd family,” Anya told them and everyone seemed to relax. That was good. She could be the clever girl in the group, just like Willow. And it was distracting – it would keep Xander’s mind off Willow and what Willow was doing. “Cucumis Sativis,” she revealed and she could tell that they were impressed. “Some ancient cultures used them just like they seemed about to, to-”
Giles interrupted her. Again. There was a time when… “I think that discretion is the better part of the next picnic area.”
“Well I vote yes,” Buffy added.
“Yay for Tara and Willow,” Dawn said then decided, from the looks, that discretion was also the better part of pretending you had no idea what was going on. Though why she had to be the innocent one was beyond her.
Xander strained his neck, trying to catch some glimpse but the trees were in the way. Damn… His one close encounter with… He sneezed and Giles passed him a tissue. “Danks.”
“The next picnic area, yes. Where there are no lesbians having playful sex,” Anya commented. She didn’t want Xander exposed to that sort of thing. Not at all. Then she turned to Dawn, “and what do you mean ‘Yay for Tara and Willow’?”
Everyone looked at her, except Xander who was back with his eyes on the road, but still waiting for her to explain. “Nothing?”
“Because if its just because they were having fun in the open air or about to with large vegetables then we’ve-”
“Anya!”
“Why does everyone shout my name like that?”
---------------------
“Someone just went past,” Willow breathed in Tara’s ear as her caresses went on and on and… in.
“Mmmn” was the only thing that Tara could say in reply.
“I had this in my hand…” she reached around and showed Tara the cucumber.
Tara’s eyes widened. “Why? Mmmmn.”
“Fun… I thought later… you might… you might like to think about might… me… later. You know? Just thinking.” Very much just thinking because along with the surprise that she’d been looking for was the slightest edge of disapproval.
“I’ll think, then you know what I would say sweetie… but the only thing you’re doing right now,” Tara said with a laugh, “Is eating me.”
Willow put the vegetable back in the basket and slipped back between her lover’s legs and she rested, the sun on her back, over the picnic table. Love. Passion. Desire.
Tongues and fingers.
************************
(To be continued)
In catillo est, cibus esse debet. (It’s on a plate, it must be food.)
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