Buffy stuck a finger under her own jaw and pressed her mouth closed, ostentatiously. Giles was perched on the edge of the study table. He was rubbing his hands on his trousers, nervously awaiting whatever her reaction was.
"So, wait, Giles, I don't get what you're asking me. 'Cause I'm not throwing a bachelor party for you. That's way more something Xander should do. Only since we just learned he's a virgin, that's maybe not a good idea. And he isn't old enough to buy you cigars anyway."
"Buffy! No, it's just, just... well, you're my Slayer. You ought to know things like this."
"And now I know. Congratulations!" Buffy grinned at him. "I think it's of the good. You get this sappy look on your face when you see her. It's really kinda sweet."
Giles fidgeted and yanked out his handkerchief, and Buffy knew there was something else.
"Out with it."
"She's, ah, that is to say, we're expecting. In September."
Giles's face was bright red. Buffy blushed as well. Weird to think about geeky tweed-man having sex, but he obviously had. With Miss Calendar, who was completely beautiful. She took another look at the textbook with arms, and wondered what Miss Calendar saw in him.
"Again with the not getting why you're telling me. Other than to say, hey mister, the health teacher has a class you maybe ought to have taken."
Giles's blush faded and his face had gone serious. "There are tactical considerations. Families are targets. I am making your job more difficult. They say one ought to avoid entanglements like this. Perhaps I ought not--"
"Giles. Don't be an idiot. This is what I'm fighting for. Remember? You said it yourself. I have friends, and now I'm going to have more friends. Including a very short friend, who can't walk or talk or anything. What should I call him? Her? What's the word for your Watcher's baby? Step-Watcher? Watcher Junior? Cousin?"
"Godchild," said Giles, abruptly.
Buffy grinned at him again. "Cool."
For stunningdork, Giles/Jenny angsty h/c, established relationship. Later in the same storyline.
Giles hovered next to the bed, hesitating. "You all right? Both of you?"
Jenny laughed. "Yes, he's kicking like a maniac."
"She is as relieved as I am."
Relief didn't describe the half of it. God! It had been madness to allow her anywhere near the library tonight. She might so easily have been injured. Or worse. Now that they were home, and safe, and the adrenaline had faded, it sank into him. How could he protect her? She would consider it an insult if he implied she was not capable of protecting herself. She'd been on the hellmouth longer than he.
Giles hovered, and scrubbed the back of his head with a hand, and wished he did not feel so helpless.
"Can I get you anything? Warm milk?"
She stretched out a hand and tugged at his jacket. "Just you, Rupert. Get into bed. Need you now."
Giles obediently undressed and slipped in next to her. Her kisses soon had the effect they always had on him. From the very first moment, when she'd handed him a cup of eggnog at the faculty Christmas party, and her fingers brushed his. He had grown happily used to this in the last two months. Once Jenny's nausea had faded, her libido had soared. Once he'd got over his nerves and fear of harming the baby, it had been wonderful. He'd made love to her more often in the last two months than he had with anyone before in his life. Jenny claimed the sex was the best she'd ever had, thank you goddess for the hormones. Giles was simply thankful. Thankful now that all of them had lived, that the Hellmouth was closed, that the Master was dead, that he was embracing his wife, lips on the back of her neck, hand splayed over her belly, bodies joined.
Post-battle sex had always been the best sex for Giles, though it was not something he'd ever said aloud. Fighting and surviving and winning, breathless triumph, followed by a tumble with whomever was nearby and willing. The danger sharpened every sensation. The dizzy terror of his decision to face the Master instead of Buffy. The fear during the battle. The relief afterward, the secret tears when he'd seen that they all lived, even Buffy for whom he'd feared most. And what did it mean that he'd been so ready to die in her place, he a man with a wife and a baby on the way?
But she'd prevented him. They'd all lived. His wife was here, in his arms, safe. For now. He kissed her shoulder and was grateful she could not see his face.