Title: Flannel Sheets
Pairing: Giles/Buffy friendship
Rating: FRC
Prompt: gileswench wants a story in which Giles and Buffy contemplate the goodness of some simple pleasure. What one precisely? I don't care. Just make it something ordinary, like watching tv, cooking a good meal, or even making a bed. I'd like something small, domestic, and completely normal through the eyes of people who don't often get to appreciate it. Oh, and if there's a touch of romance, so much the better.
Word count: 460
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I claim no ownership and am making no money.

Buffy unfolded Giles's spare set of sheets and gave them an expert shake across his guest bed. Chilly in the room, chilly in England all around, but these were flannel and-- She stopped.

"Winnie the Pooh? Winnie the Pooh?"

Giles paused in the doorway, his arms so full of blankets Buffy could barely see his face. "Er, yes."

"Giles, why do you have Winnie the Pooh flannel sheets? Is there something you'd like to confess?"

Giles shuffled into the room and piled the duvets onto an armchair already overloaded with Buffy's newly-purchased winter clothes. "Oh. Um. There's a perfectly sensible explanation."

Buffy smoothed out the sheet and got the top corners untwisted and tucked in. "Oh yeah, I bet. And I await it. Impatiently."

"My nephew. I bought them for his fourth birthday. Only it turns out, well, it turns out I missed a memo. He's deathly afraid of Pooh. Tigger in particular, but Pooh by association."

Buffy laughed at the expression on Giles's face, which was bewildered. She moved around and did the bottom of the bed. The sheets smelled wonderful. Nice clean flannel. They'd be toasty. Pillow cases next. Buffy punched up the pillows and tossed them onto the bed.

"His loss, my gain. I like 'em. So do I get to meet this mini-Giles?"

"Oh, yes. Saturday. We're invited for the day. Now, which one of these would you like? This one's got goose down in it."

"Both. It's zero degrees Kelvin in here, Giles." Buffy pouted at him, then snatched up the thinner of the two duvets.

"Right, right, I'll get that radiator sorted. Don't understand why it's not working. I do apologize for the disarray. I hadn't ever anticipated-- well, I hadn't had any guests in the time I was here. Before."

"Yeah, not a lot of time to settle in before the weird phone call." Buffy spread the poofy down comforter over the top of the now-mounded bed. It looked comfortable.

"Buffy, truly, I didn't mind."

"I know. S'okay. Hey. I like your guest bedroom. It has a nice view." And it did indeed-- a lovely view of soggy wet fields stretching out to the south of Giles's little house outside of Bath.

"I rather liked it. Just far enough from the city to feel restful."

It was far, far away from home, and everything smelled strange, and people drove on the wrong side of the road. Buffy's insides already knew that this was where she needed to be right now. Somewhere far from the Hellmouth, and from her problematic friends.

"Best idea you ever had, both of us coming here. You know, when you asked to talk to me I was half-convinced you were going to bolt back here all by yourself."

"What nonsense," said Giles.

About the game: Rules and previous ficlets (note minor rule relaxation since the last tagfic)
Next up: First responder to this post gets to pick the Giles-related prompt for the next.