Title: Cracking Code Giles (aka the Sooper Sekrit Project)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Rating/Pairing: PG, Giles/Xander
Word Count: 5300
Disclaimer: Not mine! They belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy.
Summary: Xander was proud that after a year of sharing the man’s bed every night, he was one of the few people who could claim to read and speak fluent Giles, even crypto Giles. Post ep for the S4 episode "Doomed."
Author's Note: Happy birthday, antennapedia! I hope you have a good one. This is my answer to the "Giles/Xander h/c, with Xander as comforter" that you asked for in your fandom wishlist. I hope it fits the bill.

Please note that this takes place in the AU antennapedia came up with in her fic Apples, Oranges, and Pears (at least, it does in my head - the basic premise of a birthday surprise fic meant that I couldn't ask permission, so I do hope this is okay). I suppose you could read this fic without reading hers, but really, it's a great fic so why would you? If you haven't read that one before, I suggest you do that and leave antennapedia some lovely birthday feedback before tackling this one.

Many thanks to fuzzyboo03, without whom my prose would languish in a sad swamp of tangled clauses and JK Rowling-esque ellipsis abuse.

“Paintball? Seriously, that’s the best excuse he could come up with?” Xander demanded, staring at Riley’s rapidly retreating back. “Wow, Buffy, you really don’t go for the geniuses, do you?”

Buffy somehow managed to glare and wince at the same time, and Xander almost bit through his tongue to keep from telling her that her face would freeze like that. “He was kinda off his game tonight,” she admitted. “But we can’t all be dating people with IQ’s of six hundred and whatever Giles’s is.”

Giles, right. Giles, who they’d left still reeling after those demons had beat the crap out of him and stolen that Word of Valios thing, and who was probably wanting to know for sure the world wasn’t going to end. Xander started sidling down the sidewalk, hoping to herd everyone else with him. Giles had said he’d be fine getting up the stairs to bed on his own, but Xander knew a) head injuries and b) Giles well enough to know that was just a lot of stoic British man BS. To his relief everyone else started ambling along too, though the pace was a lot more tortoise and a lot less hare than Xander would have liked. Spike had apparently taken up dissing Riley as his favorite new pastime. This was totally okay by Xander, but it meant that Buffy and Spike were bickering and the gang was getting nowhere fast.

“Hey, guys,” Xander finally said when they came to a dead stop – not literally – on the opposite side of what used to be the school parking lot and was now a great big hunk of ruptured asphalt. “Could we speed it up? I kinda wanna get home to –”

“Oh, right!” Buffy said, and stepped it up while smacking Spike upside the back of the head.

“Hey!” he yelped. “What the hell was that for?”

“Mostly? I just felt like it.”

“Just you wait till I –”

“Get the chip out of your head, right.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I kicked your sorry platinum ass before and I’ll kick it after.”

“Oh, like your goldy locks are natural? I’d bet my duster you got a gallon-sized thing of Blonde in a Bottle at home under your sink.”

Xander sighed. They were making better progress at least, but if he had to listen to much more of Spike and Buffy’s Lucy and Rickie routine while wondering how Giles was doing, he was going to stake something. He lengthened his stride until he was half a block ahead and Buffy and Spike’s voices weren’t quite as grating on his totally frayed nerves.

“Hey,” Willow said, startling him as she popped up at his shoulder. She reached out and grabbed him by the elbow. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Yeah. He just looked really bad.”

“Yeah, I know. But he’s –” She stopped and frowned. “Sorry, I guess telling you he’s looked worse probably isn’t all that comforting, huh?”

“Not so much, no. But thanks for trying.”

Another five minutes of brisk walk-n-taunt saw them to the corner where Buffy and Willow would usually split off one way toward the campus and Xander (and Spike, unfortunately) would head the other way toward Giles’s. Tonight they paused, Willow and Buffy looking uncertain. Spike lit a cigarette and just looked bored.

“I have a paper due tomorrow,” Willow blurted finally, brow furrowing. “And ‘cause, you know, no apocalypse, I have to do it. Or you know I would, Xan. Tell him I’ll come by tomorrow after class to see how he is, okay?”

Xander nodded. “It’s okay, Will. Really.”

Then he looked at Buffy. Yeah, it was okay for Willow not to come – she wasn’t Giles’s Slayer and she probably would be over tomorrow with a stack of Monty Python movies and stuff from the magic shop to make Giles’s bruises go away faster. Buffy, on the other hand . . .

Giles hadn’t said a word, which was how Xander knew it was bothering him for real. When something annoyed him, Giles liked to complain, but when he was really hurt he just got quiet. Which, yeah, made being his lover kinda like being one of those guys who worked on codes for the CIA, but Xander was proud that after a year of sharing the man’s bed every night, he was one of the few people who could claim to read and speak fluent Giles, even crypto Giles. It had taken a hell of a lot of work to get that far.

Buffy used to be able to claim that too, Xander thought, but not anymore. Xander had been thinking about saying something to her for weeks now, but he knew Giles would get a serious mad on if he did. Now, tonight, Xander didn’t give a shit. If Buffy balked now, he was saying something and Giles could just . . . hopefully never find out.

Buffy shifted from one foot to the other. “I kinda have the same paper as Will, and I haven’t done nearly as much on it as she has.”

Xander took a deep breath and held onto his patience in a white-knuckled, two-handed grip, but he’d been ticked off at her for so long, he knew it was a losing battle. “Buffy, your Watcher just got beat to a bloody pulp. The least you can do is show up.” He paused, knowing it would be better if he just shut his mouth and gritted his teeth against everything else he wanted to say. But he’d been really scared earlier and the adrenaline hadn’t gone away, it had just raised his blood pressure and pissed him off even more, and he couldn’t help adding sourly, “Not like I’m real surprised. I mean, your record isn’t exactly unblemished in that area.”

Okay, so yeah, battle lost. Which also made the list of things he didn’t give a shit about tonight. That list was pretty long, since now that the world was saved, the list of things he did care about was pretty much limited to Giles.

Buffy glared, having gone from guilty to defensive in three seconds flat. “That’s really harsh, Xander. I have stuff I have to do. Giles’ll understand, he’s always telling me to put more effort into my schoolwork. I’ll come by tomorrow with Willow –”

“He’s your Watcher, Buffy!”

“No, he’s not!” Buffy burst out, and then clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide. “I mean –”

“I know what you mean,” Xander said, kinda shocked at how cold his voice had gotten. So was Buffy, judging by the look on her face.

“I, uh,” Willow said, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “Hey, Buff, I’ll see you back at the dorm later, okay?”

For a second, Xander thought Buffy was really going to argue, but then she just nodded. Xander was relieved. He didn’t like fighting with Buffy – she was way too used to wailing on things that pissed her off. “Yeah,” she said. “You’ll help me with the paper?”

“Sure. Say ‘hi’ to Giles, okay?” Willow hurried off with one last backwards glance.

Xander took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders, and looked at Spike.

“What?” Spike demanded around his cigarette.

Xander sighed and dug out his wallet. He took out a twenty and shoved it into Spike’s hand. “I don’t care what you do with it, just don’t come back before dawn.”

Spike threw the cigarette down and ground it out under his heel. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, and strode off, duster billowing in a way that made Xander’s eye twitch. Stupid vampire had no right to be that cool.

Xander turned on his heel and set off down the street without waiting to see if Buffy was following. It was a nice night for the world not to end, he noticed, balmy even for Sunnydale this time of year. He hoped like hell he wouldn’t end up spending the rest of it in an emergency room.

“I really do have a paper,” Buffy muttered at him after awhile.

“Hey, did I say you didn’t?”

“I –” Buffy stopped. Xander was just as glad. He didn’t want to hear her excuses. He just wanted her to stop doing stuff she needed to make them for. And anyway, he wasn’t the one she needed to make them to.

They were almost to the apartment when Buffy asked in a small voice, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Xander replied flatly. “He didn’t need to.”

“Oh.” She was quiet again as they entered the courtyard and Xander started digging for his key. “I didn’t mean – I have a lot going on. I haven’t seen Mom in awhile either.”

So much for not making excuses. Xander sighed. “I know, I get it. And so does Giles, but would it kill you to, I dunno, call after patrol like you used to so he knows you’re not dead?”

“He hated it when I did that! He whined about not getting enough sleep.”

“Yeah, well, he hates it way more when you don’t do it. Don’t try and get it to make sense.”

She looked down, kinda scuffing her feet. “Right, well. I’m here. I showed up.”

Xander nodded. “Thanks.”

“No, it’s – I should be here, you’re right. Sometimes I just suck at the friend thing.”

He shrugged. “S’okay. But, uh, don’t tell him I said anything?”

She nodded, seeming relieved. “Right. Just call me Speak-No-Evil Girl.”

Xander let them into the apartment, which was dark except for the lamp on Giles’s desk. He thought for a second that maybe Giles really had dragged himself upstairs, but nope, one look at the sofa confirmed that Giles was exactly where Xander had thought he’d be – where they’d left him. He’d fallen asleep, Xander saw, which worried him ‘cause he didn’t think it was normal to be able to sleep when you thought the world was gonna end. Unless, maybe, you’d been through as many near apocalypses as they had and gotten whacked over the head pretty hard with a statue of some weird Hindu god with too many arms.

Buffy hung back as Xander leaned over the back of the couch to shake Giles’s shoulder. “Hey, big guy, guess what?”

Giles came awake with a groan. He blinked up at Xander. “World didn’ end?”

“Nope! We are 100% apocalypse free. For now anyway. No guarantees about tomorrow.”

“S’good.” Giles winced as Xander turned on the lamp by the couch. “Oh God, that means you’re going to make me move, aren’t you?”

Xander stroked Giles’s forehead a little and he leaned into it, looking pathetic. Probably he hoped Xander would give up on the idea of getting him up the stairs, but he’d feel way worse tomorrow it he spent the night on the lumpy sofa. “Got it in one. Not yet though. And hey, I brought along a Slayer for all your heavy lifting needs.”

Giles blinked at him again. “Buffy’s here?”

He sounded way more surprised than he should’ve that his Slayer actually gave a crap. Xander glanced over his shoulder and saw Buffy standing there, still in her coat and looking so guilt-stricken Xander almost felt bad for giving her such a hard time earlier. Almost being the keyword there. Xander gave a little head jerk and she jumped.

“Yeah, hey, Giles,” she said, coming around. She took her coat off and laid it over the armchair before perching on the coffee table like she had earlier. Giles looked plainly astonished and Xander wasn’t about to bail Buffy out.

“Tea, Giles?” he asked.

“Please.” Giles rubbed his temples and winced again. “I think the nausea is finally passing off enough for me to drink it.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?” Buffy asked, frowning.

“And pay for it with what insurance? I’m all right, really. Just a bump on the head and a couple of bruised ribs.”

Ah, Giles code. Xander deciphered this to mean a minor concussion and at least three cracked ribs. Nothing they couldn’t manage at home with icepacks and bed rest, but Giles would never admit even that much.

Buffy obviously didn’t buy it either. She raised an eyebrow at him. “You been going to medical school behind our backs, Giles?”

Xander was absurdly glad to see the tiny smile Giles managed at this. “I assure you, Buffy, I know what bruised ribs feel like.”

Xander glanced up to catch Buffy’s reaction to this, and it was only because he was watching for it that he saw her expression shift from guilty to sad. “Yeah,” she said quietly.

Xander glanced back to Giles, who gave him a “go on” sort of half-nod. “Tea,” Xander said decisively, and took himself off to the kitchen, where he stared in bewilderment at Giles’s tea selection and wondered, for about the millionth time, how many kinds of tea one English guy needed, especially when he drank coffee half the time. Finally he went with some weird ginger stuff Giles had bought a few months back when Xander had caught the flu. He set the kettle boiling and considered making some toast. Giles hadn’t had any dinner, Xander guessed – but no, he’d wait on that, though Giles should eat before taking any painkillers. Xander planned on enlisting Buffy for that part of things. Giles was obviously so thrilled she’d come at all, she’d probably be able to get him to take them just by pouting.

That annoyed Xander just a teeny, tiny bit. If Xander had come home by himself, Giles would be bickering with him right now, arguing every step of the way, putting up a fight even though he felt like defrosted death on toast. He’d have been hurt that Buffy hadn’t come, but of course it would just kill him dead to admit it, so instead he’d have just been a royal pain in Xander’s ass. Xander understood it, but it annoyed him anyway. He wasn’t enough. He would never be enough. He’d known that from the beginning and usually that was okay. Usually Buffy was around and Xander didn’t even notice, but lately she hadn’t been and it’d been like the elephant in the living room. Xander was getting sort of sick of Giles being grumpy and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

And yeah, he’d tried blowjobs. They’d worked for a while as a diversionary tactic, but now even that wasn’t getting the job done. It was all just not cool, dude.

The water was taking its sweet time with the boiling. Xander hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, trying to look like he wasn’t eavesdropping totally shamelessly. Buffy was telling Giles about how Teutonic Riley was a commando. Giles seemed too zonked to do much more than make the right noises in the right parts of the conversation, but that was probably for the best. Otherwise he’d have tried to lift one of his great big demon books to check some cross-reference or something and probably cracked another rib.

The kettle finally whistled. Xander made the tea in Giles’s “Kiss the Librarian” mug – the ginger tea was just normal teabag tea, so he didn’t have to bother with the strainer and all that stuff – and added some honey like Giles had for him when he’d been all pukey and gross. He grabbed another compress out of the freezer for the bump on Giles’s head – the old one had probably melted by now – before heading back to the living room.

Getting Giles to sit up was a job and a half, or would’ve been if Buffy hadn’t been there to mostly do it for them. Giles still groaned and went white as a sheet and was sort of panting and sweating by the time he was propped up against Xander the human pillow, but at least it was over fast. Even after she was done, Buffy kept fussing, pulling an afghan off the back of one of the chairs to tuck over Giles and adjusting the compress.

“Better?” she asked at last.

“Yes,” Giles said, kinda raspy. Buffy put the mug of tea in his hand and made sure his fingers were wrapped around it before she let go. Xander was grateful enough that he decided he’d been kinda rough on her and gave her a half a smile as she settled back on the coffee table. Then he wrapped an arm around Giles’s shoulders and pressed his face into Giles’s hair, careful to avoid the bump. Giles sipped his tea and found Xander’s hand under the blanket. He laced their fingers together and squeezed.

Freaked out. Yeah, that was mostly what Xander was feeling, the other reason he’d gotten so snappy with Buffy earlier. Apocalypse averted and now he could freak out all he wanted that those demons could have killed Giles tonight – probably would’ve if they hadn’t been running late for their appointment with the Hellmouth. Xander and Willow had walked in and there was Giles, out cold on the floor, and for a second Xander had thought he was dead, like really dead, and even after they’d found his pulse it’d taken them forever to bring him around.

Okay, maybe not forever, more like thirty seconds, a minute max. But time was subjective, or something, and that had been at least five years in Xander time.

Buffy cleared her throat and Xander looked up. He’d almost forgotten she was there and she looked pretty embarrassed and uncomfortable. “Should I maybe – it’s just, it’s getting kinda late and I have this paper –”

“Oh goodness,” Giles said, “Buffy, you shouldn’t have –”

“Yeah, Giles, I should have,” she said firmly. “But I kinda do need to get going, so you want me to help you upstairs?”

Xander had been hoping to get painkillers into Giles before they did this, but he’d have to eat and keep down food first and a glance at the clock told Xander it was already pretty late. Giles made some half-hearted protests, but even he knew he’d sleep better upstairs and Xander overrode them easily. He and Buffy levered him up off the couch and the three of them sort of shuffled across the living room toward the stairs like some six-legged crab with two legs not working that great. Xander had to get out of the way at the bottom of the stairs so Buffy could use her Slayer strength to more or less carry Giles up to the loft. Not that she was obvious about it. She still knew him better than that, at least.

Xander followed them up, close behind in case they fell – not real likely, since Buffy had the balance and the reflexes to go with the strength, but Xander thought he’d at least be useful as a landing pad if something did go wrong – and helped her sit him on the bed. “I got it from here, Buff, thanks,” Xander said. He needed to get Giles, who’d gone kinda white again, undressed and that wasn’t going to happen with Buffy hovering.

“Right,” she said brightly. “I’m off then, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Giles, okay? Willow and I’ll be back with Chinese food and a big stack of crossword puzzles.”

Giles dredged up a smile from someplace for her. “Thank you, Buffy.”

She nodded. Xander mouthed pills at her and she added, “And you’re going to take whatever painkillers Xander gives you, right? And not give him any lip about it?”

Giles nodded. “I’m not feeling the urge to resist much, to be honest.”

Buffy looked worried at that and kinda hesitated for a second, like she was thinking of kissing Giles on the forehead or cheek or something. Xander couldn’t tell if Giles was relieved or disappointed when she didn’t, but in the end she just said goodnight and clattered down the stairs and out of the apartment.

Giles didn’t say a word until Xander was in the process of easing his shirt off and trying not to openly wince at the mottled bruising on his torso. “You shouldn’t have forced her to come,” he said at last, a bitten-back groan in his voice.

Xander was too busy noticing the way Giles had flinched when Xander touched his wrist to answer right away. It was sorta swollen, now that he was really looking at it, and he wondered for the first time if it might be sprained. One more thing to ice, he guessed, once he got Giles comfortable. “I didn’t force her,” he said, kneeling to untie Giles’s shoes. He was looking down, so he didn’t see so much as feel the skeptical look Giles gave him. “I didn’t,” he insisted, glancing up. “I just reminded her she wanted to.”

Giles sighed. “Splitting hairs.”

“No, it’s not. She was glad to be here.” Xander hoped they could put this conversation off until later, because really, he didn’t think either of them was up to it. He also hoped things would be better after tonight, but that all depended on Buffy and Xander didn’t like that. She hadn’t been real dependable lately. For now, though, he just shoved the shoes and socks to one side and considered the immediate problem. Giles’s pants had to come off next, but he should be lying down for that. “How you doing?”

Giles closed his eyes and let his shoulders slump. “I feel like an idiot. I hate this, you know.”

“I know. But hey, think of it as an excuse to lie around doing nothing tomorrow.” And probably for a few days after that too, but Xander didn’t point that out. They didn’t need an argument over that either.

“Yes, which will make it different from every other day how, exactly?”

Xander wasn’t touching that one. That had been the other elephant in the living room lately, the other thing making Giles grumpy that Xander had no clue how to fix. He’d been all in favor of Giles taking a break – he didn’t think the others had realized how bad Giles had needed one by the time the thing with the mayor and Faith finally blew up (literally) – but now he could tell Giles was starting to go kinda bonkers from the inactivity. What Xander didn’t know, and what he was way too chicken to ask Giles about outright, was why, if he hated being unemployed so much, he didn’t just get a job.

So yeah, not touching that one no matter how long the pole was. Not until he’d cracked the code and knew what actually needed fixing.

“Can you get yourself under the covers okay?” Xander asked. “I’ll help you with the pants in a minute, but I need to get some stuff from downstairs.”

“Yes, Xander, I’m not a complete invalid, thank you.”

Ah, so they’d reached the snarky, sarcastic portion of the evening. Xander was actually sort of cheered as he thumped down the stairs to make more tea and a couple pieces of toast with butter. He found a tray in one of the cabinets and loaded it up before grabbing a couple more icepacks and a bottle of one of the many prescription painkillers Giles had in his medicine cabinet, since he never took as many as he actually needed.

Xander listened for sounds from upstairs as he puttered around, turning off lights and making sure the front door was dead bolted. Everything was quiet, though, and he realized his heartbeat had finally dropped down to something in the normal range of that curve in the poster at the doctor’s office. The adrenaline had dissipated too, which meant he just really tired. Calm, but tired. That was okay, he decided as he slid the dead bolt home, he’d take tired over seriously freaked out pretty much any day. And anyway, this was the part he knew how to do – well, after four years of Scoobyhood, he knew how to do freaked out pretty well too, but this was what he was comfortable with. Taking care of Giles – Xander could do that. It was one of the few things he was good at, even, at least when Giles let him be. He liked that he was pretty much the only one Giles let get that close – except Buffy, but that was different. Xander didn’t really know how the whole Slayer/Watcher thing worked, but he guessed maybe Giles didn’t even have a choice about whether he let Buffy in like that. He had a choice with Xander. And he did choose, even if he was kinda grouchy about it sometimes.

And with that thought, Xander took all the other crap – Buffy and the no job thing and all the other stuff he couldn’t do anything about – and shoved it way in the back of his mind. Then he sat on it for good measure. It could all just wait its damn turn.

Xander was almost smiling as he lugged the tray upstairs. Giles had managed to swing his legs onto the bed and was sitting propped up against the headboard, but that was as far as he’d gotten. He had his eyes shut and was breathing weird through his mouth, which made Xander think it was time for painkillers, stat. He set the tray down on the nightstand and stroked Giles’s hair lightly. Giles gave a quiet sigh and blinked his eyes open. If Xander was tired, he thought, then Giles was exhausted. He looked like something had stomped on him – which, in fact, something had.

Sleep would help, Xander told himself firmly. Sleep and a couple of days in bed or at least on the couch, watching Monty Python and eating hot and sour soup and arguing with the New York Times crossword puzzle. And maybe, at some point in all of that, Xander would screw up the courage to actually ask Giles why he hadn’t found a new job yet, or even started looking, and maybe, just maybe, they could talk about the Buffy Thing.

Not right then, though. “Toast,” Xander said, plunking the plate down in Giles’s lap.

Giles nodded wearily and set to munching without the argument Xander had expected. He didn’t finish the second piece, but Xander decided that was good enough and gave him two of the little white pain-relieving miracle pills, which he swallowed with the tea. Xander let him finish that before unbuckling Giles’s belt and easing his pants down over his hips. Giles tried to help by lifting them, but Xander caught the half-swallowed moan and stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“I might suck at the whole nursemaid thing, but this, I know how to do,” he said, managing a grin. “Though I admit, circumstances are usually kinda different.”

Giles gave him a pained smile. “Won’t be much good to you that way for awhile, I’m afraid.”

Xander got the pants down a bit further and then paused, brushing his lips against the inside of Giles’s bare knee, nuzzling a little. He didn’t say anything, because everything in his head sounded stupid and corny, but he thought Giles got the picture. Xander wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t care, really, because yeah, he was nineteen and he liked sex a lot, but going back to broccoli for a bit wasn’t going to kill him. Or make him go blind.

Pants were off. Xander thought they’d probably have to be thrown out eventually, because there were some bloodstains on them and even he knew that if you let blood sit for a couple of hours, it was there for eternity. For the moment, though, he just tossed them in the hamper. Then he pulled the blankets and comforter up over Giles’s lap before breaking out the icepacks. One for the lump on Giles’s head, which was black and blue and really ugly, and one for the wrist, which Giles looked at in bemusement before accepting. “Hadn’t even realized,” he muttered, adjusting it.

“Anything else I missed?”

Giles seemed to consider this. “I don’t think so. Xan,” he tugged at him, “come here.” And Giles kissed him, very lightly because of the big, fat split lip, and then leaned his forehead against Xander’s. “You are an excellent nursemaid,” he murmured. “I’m just a terrible patient.”

Xander smiled and rested his hand on the back of Giles’s neck. “Yeah, you are.” He sat back. “You need anything else? Heating pad?”

“Are you planning on sleeping anywhere that isn’t here?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then I think we have that covered.”

On that note, Xander got ready for bed, brushing his teeth and changing into the Snoopy pajamas Buffy had given him for his eighteenth birthday. They were getting sort of faded now, but they always made Giles smile. By the time he went back upstairs, the pills had obviously kicked in enough for Giles to wiggle his way down under the covers without help. Xander slid in next to him, trying not to jostle him too much.

“Sure you don’t need anything?” Xander asked with a yawn.

“No,” Giles replied fuzzily, cuddling up so shamelessly that Xander knew he had to be stoned and losing both icepacks in the process. Xander checked out Giles’s pupils in the lamplight and yup, totally blown. He tossed the icepacks on the nightstand, turned out the lamp, wrapped an arm around Giles’s shoulders, and cuddled back as well as he could. One of them had to be careful of Giles’s ribs though, and since Giles now had a nice, fluffy, pill-induced, marshmallow cloud between him and the pain, it would have to be Xander.

Giles buried his face in Xander’s neck and mumbled something.

“What was that?” Xander asked, lifting his head.

“Thank you,” Giles whispered.

“Hey, no problem.” Xander stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Love you.”

“Don’t know why. Please don’t leave?”

“Uh.” Xander pushed himself up on one elbow and wondered if this was a new code he’d have to crack. But then he saw the way Giles was looking up at him, heart in his eyes and – whoa. Almost in tears. This was no code at all, Xander realized. This was doped-up, codeless Giles.

Suddenly the freaked out feeling was back and it’d brought friends. Xander knew he had to say something, so he cleared his throat and brushed his lips across Giles’s forehead. “Not going anywhere, big guy. You know that.”

“Thought – ‘m boring. Not a Watcher. Not even a librarian. Just –”

“Giles,” Xander finished. “Which is pretty much who I fell in love with. Okay?” Giles nodded. Xander kissed him on the mouth for good measure. “Now go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Giles said, and lay his head on Xander’s shoulder. The pills knocked him out pretty quick once he let them. Xander listened to his breathing deepen and even out and then breathed a quiet sigh of relief himself.

That had been weird there. Really weird, and probably Giles wouldn’t remember it tomorrow, or if he did, he’d pretend like he didn’t. Either way Xander would probably have to do some more code breaking, even if they did talk about the other stuff. But it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t going to pretend it wouldn’t be easier if Giles would just come and say stuff like normal people – or at least blurt it out at the worst possible moment like Xander – but the thing about Giles’s codes was, there was always a key. Sometimes they were hidden, but Xander sort of enjoyed the hunt. So, that was what he’d do. He’d find the keys for the latest codes, because that meant he’d get to keep being the one to hold Giles as he fell asleep. And that – that was totally worth all the other stuff.

Fin.