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Rupert was sort of hot if she really thought about it. Of course, she’d never admit that, not to him, not in a non-teasy way, because if he knew, he’d hold it over her head for just about forever. Maybe she just found frustrated, annoying, really old men attractive? No, no, it couldn’t be that. She didn’t want it to be that. He had to be an outlier. She wouldn’t care as much if he were anyone else. If he wasn’t so… him. But he was. He was Giles, her Rupert. So smart, but so foolish, and she loved him for it, or really, really liked him, so much so that he was all she ever thought about. He was like a knight in shining armour but in more of a twiggy oaf way.
Jenny! Jenny! She even liked his pompous little accent that he seemed to be stuck with.
“Jenny!” She woke up out of her blissful dream state, snapped back into reality by a muffled voice on the other side of the door. “Are you alright?”
She got up, out of bed, the duvet falling off her body and half-pooling on the floor. Opening the door slightly to look at his tired, wrinkled, gorgeous face. “Yes. I’m fine. How did you get in?”
“Key. Under the mat. I thought you’d been murdered.”
“No, not the last time I checked.” She looked down, double checking. “Nope, all good. Now, do you mind? I need to put on some Rupert appropriate clothes.”
“Rupert appro- Oh! You’re- Oh, yes, yes, of course, I’ll figure out how to use your kettle.” He said, his face radiating heat and almost fully red. Fumbling his way to the kitchen.
“See you soon!” She said, grinning like a cheshire cat. Closing the door quickly to hide the sound of her heart dancing, which she was sure he could hear. She leaned against the door. Trying not to giggle like Xander Harris when he realised he could get google translate to say dirty words.
………………..
“How’s this then?” She popped out from behind the wall. Leaning against the arch-way. Her skirt dotted with little red flowers, tight until knee level, where it begun to flow freely. Her jumper cropped just enough to show off her waist. Red to match the flowers, and with Rudolph plastered on the front. He hadn’t got to her shoes when she said- “You haven’t seen the best bit yet.”
“Oh?”
She pressed the nose of the reindeer on her jumper and it lit up, playing Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer in a really high-pitched key that made his ears ring a bit. “So, what do you think?”
“Perfect.” Giles replied. She smiled, and he found himself doing the same.
“I knew you’d love it,” she said, grabbing his hands and pressing them to her chin. She sighed, clearly realising what she was doing, dropping them as fast as she picked them up. He didn’t want her to let go, but knew it was for the best. She rested her hands on her hips. “Shall we get going?”
“Yes, yes, okay. I’ll get my coat.”
………………..
They walked to the car, sleek, red, classic, new. Well, at least new to her. Her hands tucked into her leather jacket pockets, trying to bury her chin in her scarf because the winter weather was just mean enough to bite.
“I didn’t know you had a car. Hey, are you going to drive on the wrong side of the road?” She said teasingly. Honestly, it never dawned on her that he knew how to drive a car.
“No- and how did you think I got to work?”
“Bike?”
He stared at her, smiling away. His green eyes piercing straight through her. She didn’t know why, but it was a stabbing sensation that she was veering on fond of. Pulling the door open for her, he said lightly, almost in a whisper, “no.”
Jenny got in the car. She was so thankful he walked around the front because her eyes never left him. She hadn’t realised how deep his laugh lines were. Maybe she never looked hard enough. Maybe it was a new thing.
“Can I ask why you invited me over for Christmas dinner?” She asked, frankly but not unkindly.
It didn’t take him long to answer. “Well, I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“And what makes you think I would be alone?”
“Jenny-”
“Am I really that awful?” She asked, veering towards the hysterical, settling for over-dramatic.
“Jenny, I didn-”
“Alert! Alert! Sirens! Neeeeeee-norrrr! Stay clear of Jenny Calendar, extremely radioactive!” There goes the hysteria.
“Jenny, please.”
“Ok fine, fine, I give in, I would’ve probably sat on the sofa making my way through Meg Ryan and Julia Roberts’ entire 80s and 90s rom-com catalogue but…” She paused trying to see what excuse she could muster up that made her seem far less like a sad sap. She had nothing. “I appreciate it… very much, Rupert.”
………………..
“Do you need any help in there?”
“no, no, you go away. The kitchen is a no Jenny zone.”
She was about to argue, she couldn’t help herself, but realised he was right. Jenny Calendar and the oven are two things that do not mix well, like quick sand and tap shoes.
It was ten more minutes of banging and crashing, and blasting before he reappeared.
“Ta-Da!!” He exclaimed, bringing out a massive roasted turkey and plonking it on the table right in front of Jenny. She had hardly taken in the sight before he left the room again, getting the rest of the already large dinner. “I may have gone a bit overboard.”
“You think?” she said sarcastically.
“Yeah, well, we can put the leftovers in a sandwich or baguette, or stew. And you never know who may show up.”
“You want us to hurl Christmas dinner over some monster? I don’t think that’s very environmentally friendly.”
“I’ve seen apocalypse after apocalypse. The world isn’t ending because of a food fight.”
“Just- promise me to grab one of your dusty old books instead of the food?”
“I promise.” Silence fell for a few sweet seconds. “They are not dusty.”
………………..
Rupert was in the kitchen. She swore she hadn’t had any room left, but when he mentioned desert, her eyes lit up. As he sorted that out, his phone lying on the table. Going off with the most god awful text tone, which seemed to go on forever. Awful text tone. Awful text tone. Awful text tone.
“Rupert, your phone!” She shouted.
“I’m trying to flambé the pudding. Wait just a minute!”
She picked it up, her patience quickly wearing thin. She scanned the phone. No lock feature.
Message 1 via Xander Harris: Sorry G, Buffy will fill you in.
Message 2 via Buffy Summers: Sorry couldn’t make it, demon trouble.
Message 3 via Willow Rosenberg: Giles, I’m so so sorry I really tried to make it but this big demon guy came and…
She got the picture.
She marched her way to the kitchen. Flinging her arms around his neck, and pulling him in for a tight embrace.
“But the flambé!”
“Fuck the flambé. You need a hug.”
………………..
They stayed like that for a while, until it got awkward. The hug was great but the time to let go seemed to have passed, and even though it was soft and lovely, it was broken up by Rupert.
“Why are you hugging me?” He said, and she let go.
She looked at him, confused, as if it were obvious.“The children not being here.”
“Oh! Oh, well, yes that. To be honest, I’d forgotten.”
“Fuck.” she said under her breath. She felt her cheeks burn. “Well, I think I better get going.”
“Okay,” He said gently. Good, he agrees. Although a very small- okay, not so small part of her wished he asked her to stay, or even a mere ‘ this soon?’. She was used to guys doing that.
She put on her red knit scarf. Making her way to the front door and he followed. He picked up her coat before her. Helping her put it on. Push me out the door. Why don’t you?
And then there was a moment. There was a moment between them. They had had one or two or twenty-seven before but were interrupted or they were too stupid to act on it. His hands didn’t dare move off her shoulders as he placed the jacket on her. Her eyes flicked up to the mistletoe that she hadn’t noticed before, that was ever so conveniently hanging over the doorway. She turned around. If she was going to do this, it had to be right. And she was definitely going to do this. This moment won’t pass, not this time. Jenny wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass to kiss Rupert’s incredibly British face off.
“Merry Christmas, England.” She said before she pulled him down for a big, all-encompassing snog. “And, just so you’re aware, I’m not just making out with you because you’re sad and lonely.”
“Good to know.”