Spoilers: Everything through "Superstar" and "Eternity" is fair game; there may also be minor references to later episodes eventually. This takes place after the end of Season Four: Adam has been defeated. Oz is gone. Tara is gone. Riley and Buffy are still together, but their relationship’s a tad shaky due to the whole Initiative and Adam debacle. Xander’s fine. Anya’s fine. Willow’s fine - but alone. Spike’s fine - but still recovering from the battle with Adam - and he’s still sort-of, kind-of a Slayerette. Giles - oops, can’t tell, you’ve gotta wait. And Joyce - no, you’ll have to wait for that one, too. Read ahead if you dare.
Relationships: Giles/Joyce, Willow/Spike, with hints of Buffy/Riley and Xander/Anya.
Summary (sort of): My answer to LJ’s challenge on the GilesandJoyce list to use her revamping of the Green Card Challenge. The challenge can also be found here.
Rating: PG-13, if that.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, would I have student loans? Yada, yada, yad.
Feedback: As necessary as oxygen. Send it post-haste to brigidharper@usa.net.

"Spike?"

The voice roused the vampire out of his thoughts suddenly, and he turned to see Joyce Summers watching him intently.

"Yes, Mum?"

She smiled. She wasn’t entirely sure why he liked her so much, or why he’d suddenly taken to calling her Mum, but somehow, deep inside, she liked it. She knew he was a vampire, and probably a lot older than her, but he looked young enough to be her son. And now that Buffy had just completed her first year of college and wasn’t home that much anymore….Well, she liked being able to mother someone.

And Spike - he let her call him William in private, when she wanted, now that she knew it was his real name - needed mothering. Joyce still didn’t know much about what happened, but she knew that they’d gone up against a terrible demon called Adam right after finals and Spike had been injured in the fight. To make it worse, he’d been run out of his latest home - yet another crypt in one of Sunnydale’s twelve cemeteries - and she hadn’t wanted him on his own on top of that, with his injuries. Joyce had heard that he’d lived with Mr. Giles - Rupert, she reminded herself with a smile - for a while earlier in the year, but when she’d suggested it to Rupert, he’d adamantly refused, and had gone off about something having to do with bathtubs and Weetabix. (She then discovered the next day at the grocery store that Weetabix was a kind of cereal resembling Shredded Wheat.) So Joyce had done the only thing she could do: she’d taken in the vampire herself.

"Would you like some hot chocolate, Spike?" she asked, taking the last dishes from the table.

"Yes, please," he replied with a smile. She returned the smile. He could be so sweet, and polite, too - she didn’t understand why no one else liked him.

Well, Willow was always nice to him, she had to admit. But the others weren’t.

"Wait," Spike said suddenly.

She stopped, plates in her hands, her mind on how best to organize the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and to make a shopping list - they were almost out of hot chocolate mix. "Let me carry those for you, Mum," Spike said, rising from his chair. He took the plated from Joyce and carried them into the kitchen.

So sweet and polite.

She glanced back to the far wall, wondering what had entranced him so greatly, but all she could find was a picture from the weekend after Buffy’s birthday that had been framed and now sat on the buffet. What was it about this photograph that had captivated him so greatly?

It was the whole gang of demon-fighters - her own daughter Buffy, and Buffy’s new boyfriend Riley. She’d met the young man a few times and he’d made a good impression. They seemed happy together, and Buffy was looking forward to seeing him again - he’d gone home to Iowa for a few weeks to visit his family.

Then there was Xander and Anya. Anya had struck her as somewhat…odd, but they were both good kids. Buffy had said something about Anya having been a demon, but Joyce still didn’t really know the story behind that, either.

Rupert Giles crouched behind the sitting teenagers, the father that none of the children had and all of them deserved. She had admitted to herself that he really did look rather handsome in the picture and had caught herself staring at it a few times as well. She wondered if.…

No. Mustn’t bring up that night.

Last of all was Willow, Buffy’s best friend. She sat in the very center, between the two young couples. She was very pretty in this shot, probably the best she’d looked since Oz had left her. The sun was shining and for a moment Joyce was a little envious of how the sunlight made Willow’s hair as red as fire.

Sunlight.

She wondered if Spike could still remember what it was like to walk around in the sunshine. Was that why he’d been staring at the photo? Was he jealous of them because they could go into the sunlight?

Or was it someone in the picture that had captured his attention?

Then, mentally reviewing everything she had seen and heard about Spike, and all that had happened that evening at the "family" dinner she had hosted for them, she came to a conclusion and an answer for her question:

It was Willow.

"William?"

"Yes, Mum?"

"Why is it that you hate Buffy so much?"

Spike stared into his hot chocolate and watched the marshmallows float. "Do you want all of the reasons, ever since I met her, or just this year?" he asked softly. She could hear a little pain in his voice and she wondered at that. "How about just this year?" Joyce told him.

Spike let out an unnecessary sigh and decided to skip over the whole Gem of Amara incident since it would have probably made Mum mad. "Well, there’s the fact that she and the Watcher had me chained to a bathtub-"

"They did what?" Joyce asked in shock.

"They chained me to the Watcher’s bathtub," he repeated, and then proceeded to explain the whole story about his escape from the Initiative and his subsequent captivity under the care of the Watcher - and Xander.

Well, that’s why Rupert was complaining about his bathtub, Joyce thought to herself.

"-And so then they were all so blind. They honestly thought that the Witch was already getting better. So I told them that any idiot could see how she was just hanging on by a thread after the Wolf left her."

Aha, Joyce thought, the plot thickens.

"So, the Slayer got mad at Red again-"

Hm. A nickname. Well, sort of. He still hadn’t used her real name, but Joyce decided that ‘Red’ was an improvement over ‘the Witch’.

"-And so Red did this spell to make things come true. I don’t know why she would have wanted me and the Slayer to get married, but she did and I still get sick at the thought of kissing the Slayer."

Whoa. Buffy and Spike? Marrying? "What did you say, William? Marriage?" Joyce asked. "With Buffy?"

"Ah, Mum, it was awful. Thank goodness it was only a spell, and all the Slayer’s fault anyway. We were so sappy it makes me sick to think about it. And the Slayer can’t kiss!" he told her. "I don’t know how my idiot of a Sire could stand kissing her so much for so long! It was awful. She doesn’t know a thing. Now the Witch…" He had a thoughtful look on his face. "I’d bet that the Witch can kiss pretty good. All the redheads I’ve known were good kissers. And she’s a lot prettier than most."

Jackpot. He does like her, Joyce decided. This could get interesting.

Now if only I could get Rupert to think about how I kiss…

No. Mustn’t think about that.

Mustn’t think about the cursed chocolate.

Mustn’t think about him singing at the Espresso Pump last April.

Mustn’t think about how handsome he looked in that picture.

Mustn’t think about his smiles at dinner tonight…

Rupert Giles awoke with a sense of doom that next morning. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but it was definitely something. He sighed and dragged himself into the shower.

He still hadn’t deduced the source of his sense of dread by the time he was dressed and eating breakfast, but he had remembered his dreams.

He had dreamed of her.

Joyce.

The dreams had been simple, sweet. Innocent, really. Only one was still clear in his now completely awake mind: Joyce and he on a picnic, laughter, a few kisses. A little box that he drew out of his pocket. She smiled, kissed him, whispered, "Yes," and they kissed again -

A loud knocking pulled him out of his dreams and back into reality. Giles stood and walked to his door. Not thinking, he forgot to look through the little window to see who it was. He opened the door and said, "Can I he-"

- And was barreled over by a young man he thought he recognized.

"Uncle Rupert - quick - close the door!"

Giles did as he was told and then looked down at the man, who had fallen down to the floor after tripping over Giles in his rush. "Charlie?" he asked in disbelief.

"Thank heavens you were home, Uncle Rupert," the boy replied - and he was essentially just that: a boy, at least in Giles’s thoughts. Charles Giles - the Third - was a young man who had come into that point in life where it was difficult to determine exactly how old he was. It was certainly somewhere between Xander Harris and Giles himself, but younger than Wyndam-Price, who was still in that category. But Giles knew exactly how old Charlie was, the only relative who still kept in contact with him after all of the various incidences with the Council in the previous eighteen months…But what puzzled Giles the most was that he could not conceive of any reason why his twenty-seven-year-old nephew would be so
desperate to see him…

Suddenly Giles realized that Charlie was still babbling away, reminiscent of Willow when she’d been spell-casting again and didn’t want to tell him. But the fact that Charles Giles III had absolutely no talent, nor interest, in sorcery was the least of his concerns, and did nothing to ease his sense of doom, which had increased three- or five- or even tenfold in the past two minutes.

"Wait - wait, Charlie," he finally interrupted as his nephew stopped talking long enough to breathe. The boy stopped and looked at him. "Charlie, I want you to calm down. Take a few deep breaths."

Charlie did as he was told and after a few moments his face was less flushed and he looked a little…relaxed compared to his fearful frenzy only moments earlier. "Better?"

Charlie nodded.

"Good. Now come and sit down," Giles said, leading the young man to the couch, "and tell me, slowly, and clearly, what it is that’s got you worked up into a bloody mess like this."

"All-all right," Charlie said, sitting down.

Giles sat down beside him. "Now, tell me what’s going on, from the beginning."

Charlie took another breath and sighed. "It’s the Watcher’s Council, Uncle. They tossed me out, and they’re after me. I think they’ll be after you as well soon enough."

Buffy yawned as she opened the front door. "Giles?" she asked sleepily as she realized that it was, indeed, her Watcher at the door at seven thirty in the morning.

"Giles?" Willow’s voice rang out from the living room and moments later she emerged, wearing Scooby-Doo pajamas. She giggled, realizing that Buffy was herself only dressed in her infamous "Yummy Sushi" pajamas. She remembered the impromptu slumber party/hide-out they’d had while fighting the Initiative a few months before.

"Giles?" Buffy asked again, squinting at the early morning sunshine. "What are you doing here?"

"Is your mother home?" Giles asked.

"My mom?" The Slayer frowned. "Why would you-" She noticed the young man standing beside Giles. He resembled the Watcher slightly and she wondered if they were related. "Who’s this?" she asked.

"Buffy?" Joyce called from the kitchen. "Who’s there?"

"It’s Giles, Mom!" Buffy yelled back. "He wants to talk to you!" Glancing back at her Watcher, she added, "I guess you can come in."

Giles nodded and he and the younger man stepped inside. Buffy noticed that the young man carried a small suitcase.

Just then, Joyce came in from the kitchen. "Rupert, what on Earth-" She stopped and blushed, realizing that two men were standing in her entry and she was only dressed in her nightgown and a bathrobe, as she usually did on her Saturdays off.

"Joyce," Giles said, blushing himself at the sight of the Slayer’s mother, but trying to maintain both his dignity and hers. "It seems we’ve got a bit of a problem, and unless with your help we can think of another solution, I need to ask a favor of you." He paused.

"A rather large favor."

"I need to ask a favor of you," he said seriously.

Joyce stared at him, a puzzled look on her face. Buffy and Willow watched with a mixture of confusion, amusement, and a little fear. Finally Joyce asked, "What kind of favor?"

Giles opened his mouth to speak, but Joyce interrupted. "No, wait," she amended. "This is obviously important and I probably won't like it, so maybe it would be best if I heard the whole story."

Giles nodded. "That would be the best course of action. But, perhaps you should first-" he gestured to her state of near undress.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing again. "Yes, I'll just go upstairs and change..." She made some wild gestures, uncertain of the protocol for the situation. She turned and went upstairs.

The girls turned to Giles and the young man. "Um, why don't you come in here and sit down, Giles?" Buffy suggested. "Wills and I'll just follow Mom's lead..." She trailed off with an uncertain tone in her voice, and Willow finished for her: "We'll be back in a minute." Then they, too, turned and ran upstairs.

As they sat on the couch, Charlie turned to his uncle and asked, "Are you and the Slayer's mother...involved?"

Giles choked on his breath.

Upstairs, Willow asked Buffy, "Why do you think Giles is here?"

The Slayer shrugged. "I don't know. Normally I'd say, 'Oh, prophecy, no biggie,' or maybe, 'demon,' but he didn't come to see us."

Willow frowned and gave her a puzzled look.

"He's here to see my mom," Buffy reminded her.

"Oh!" Willow said. Then: "But who's that guy with him?"

Joyce stared at the clothes hanging in her closet. Don't I have anything decent anymore? She stood there a while, hearing the ticking of a clock on the wall echoing. Come on, Joyce, just pick something!

But whatever you do, don't pick something that'll remind him of that night.

She sighed and grabbed something she often wore to work. There we go. Pleasant, businesslike, not overly dressy. I'm at home on my day off, for heaven's sakes! Argh!

Giles stood up as Joyce came back downstairs. The girls had preceded her by a few minutes and sat silently across from the men. As she looked at Rupert, she had a sudden flash of the dream she'd had the night before...the picnic...the proposal...the ring...smiles and kisses...

"Now, you wanted to tell me something, Rupert?" she asked pleasantly.

He smiled nervously, and moved towards the foyer. "If I could speak to you privately for a moment, Joyce?"

She frowned, but followed him.

"What on Earth are they doing?" Buffy asked, but Willow just shook her head. "I don't know. I really don't know."

Charlie coughed politely. The girls turned towards him, and Willow finally asked, "Who are you?" She quickly added, "Not to be rude or anything, but..."

He smiled slightly. "Yes, yes, of course. Not at all surprised that he hadn't mentioned me before, really."

"You're not his...son, are you?" Buffy inquired cautiously.

"No, no, I'm his nephew. Charles Giles the Third. Quite pleasant to make your acquaintance, Miss-"

"Summers, Buffy Summers," she answered, shaking his proffered hand.

"Ah, the Slayer. Quite honored to meet you, Miss Summers, and your friend?"

"That's Willow-"

"Yes, Miss Rosenberg. I've heard quite a bit about you from my uncle as well. Please, call me Charlie."

"Okay..." Buffy gave Charlie an inquiring look. "What exactly is going on?"

"Um, Rupert? What exactly is going on here?" Joyce asked. They were just out of earshot of the girls and Charlie provided that they spoke softly.

He sighed. "It seems that I, and my nephew, are in a spot of trouble. Again."

"Is it that Council again? The people who put Buffy through that terrible test last year?"

Giles nodded. "Yes, the very same," he said sadly.

"What are they doing this time? Are they coming after Buffy again?"

"No," he replied, "they've changed tactics, it seems. They're after me, specifically."

"Well, if you're the one they're after, why are you telling me like this? Shouldn't you be telling Buffy first? I mean, if they were after Buffy again, then I'd be glad you're speaking to me first. I'm pleased that you're...informing me of what's going on, but at the moment I'm not really seeing why-"

"Marry me."

Joyce looked at him suddenly, startled out of her Willowesque rambling, and realized that he'd dropped down on one knee. She looked into the living room and saw that the girls and Rupert's nephew were watching them intently, the girls having a look of shock on their faces, the young man merely watched with detached interest.

She turned back to Rupert, saw the honest look on his face, saw the ring in his hand, and did the one thing she could do under the circumstances:

She fainted.

Giles stared at the fallen woman. She had fainted. Well, now, Ripper, that's a real ego boost, a voice from deep inside whispered.

"Giles?" Buffy rushed to her mother's side. "What did you say to her?"

Before he could answer, Joyce groaned and her eyelids flickered open slightly. "Rupert," she said happily, not quite awake, "I had the strangest dream. A nice dream, though." She smiled. "I dreamt that you asked me to marry you, but it wasn't on a picnic like it was supposed to be... It was a good dream..."

Buffy stood suddenly and glared at Giles. "You did what?!"

"Anya, you can't just barge into people's houses. You have to knock first," Xander advised, "or ring the doorbell."

His girlfriend sighed, wondering if she'd ever get the hang of being human again. "Right. Knock. Ring doorbell." She pushed the button for the doorbell once, twice, thrice, but nothing happened.

"Guess it's broken. I dimly recall the Buffster saying something about that."

Anya smiled inwardly. Good. If he only 'dimly recalls' something about her, then he must have been paying good attention to me. She knocked on the front door. After a few moments she tried again. When no one responded that time, Anya said, "Maybe they're not home."

"You asked her to marry you?!" Buffy screamed.

Giles took off his glasses and closed his eyes. To say that Buffy was not taking the concept well would be an understatement.

Suddenly, Joyce opened her eyes again. "That was real?" she asked in amazement. "You really proposed to me?"

Giles nodded.

She looked at him.

"Okay," she said, and fainted again.

"Maybe they're not home," Anya was saying.

"No, someone's got to be here," Xander told her. "Buffy's mom's car is here, and Giles's, too. Besides, Willow said that she and Buffy were going to have one of their 'girls' nights', so they've got to be in there somewhere. Maybe they're still asleep."

The sound of the Slayer screaming had woken Spike. "Bloody hell," he sighed. "Can't a mate get a decent day's sleep around here?"

Recognizing the sounds of an argument, he decided to get up and check it out. He quickly threw on some clothes and went downstairs to find the Slayer, his Red, the Watcher, Mum, and a young bloke resembling the Watcher in some sort of argument. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, he watched them, trying to deduce what was going on. Once he realized that for some reason the Watcher had proposed to Mum, he simply said, "It's about time," and went back to bed.

"What do you mean, okay?" Buffy growled.

"Er, Buffy, calm down. Please let me explain-" Giles began, but Willow cut him off. "Maybe we should make sure Mrs. Summers didn't hurt her head. You know, make sure she's okay?"

"Oh, yes, good show, Willow," Giles told her. He moved closer to Joyce's prone figure. "Joyce. Joyce, wake up."

Charlie watched his uncle rouse the Slayer's mother. He smiled. He had guessed that there was perhaps something between the two, but until now he hadn't been certain.

His uncle was in love with her.

"Ooh," Joyce groaned as she sat up. "What happened?" She looked around and saw Rupert looking at her intently. "Rupert?" she asked, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

He stared at her for a moment, weighing a decision in his mind. Finally, he just went ahead with his gut feeling, leaned forward towards the confused woman, whispering, "Please forgive me what I now do," and -

"Well, it is rather early for a Saturday," Anya agreed. She grabbed the doorknob and turned it. The door swung open to reveal...

...Joyce and Giles kissing. A lot.

They all sat at the kitchen table, as silent and still as statues.

Joyce.

Giles.

Charlie, who, like everyone else, looked a little confused and perplexed, only moreso. Were they all blind? He had only been in Sunnydale for about two hours, and already he knew that the Slayer's mother and his uncle were in love. But no one else seemed to comprehend this.

Buffy.

Willow.

Xander.

Anya, who combined her various kinds of confusion with vicarious pleasure in having walked in on Joyce and Giles kissing.

Spike had retreated to the guest room again, mumbling something about needing a cigarette.

And a bag of blood.

And a spot of violence to brighten his day.

Pretty much everyone, in addition to the confusion, was in a mild to serious state of shock.

The Kiss.

It had been worthy of capitalization, Joyce had decided, but not only due to the...quality. It had been a complete surprise. She, of course, remembered the curesed chocolate incident, but had never guessed, or even hoped! least she be disappointed, that Rupert would really kiss her again.

She was glad, but a little worried. What on Earth is going on???

Giles, though, was asking himself the same question. Why on Earth did I kiss her???

A little voice replied, Because you wanted to, you daft fool.

Point taken, admitted the first voice.