Winter Solstice in London and everyone was bustling around buying Christmas presents. As she stepped out from Fortnum & Masons, Joyce pulled her red, wooly cap down over her ears and shivered. She was never going to get used to the cold.
Taking a deep breath, Joyce joined the throngs headed for the tube station, glad her day of shopping was finally complete. Now she just had to get everything wrapped. It was their first holiday together--Thanksgiving not really counting in this country--and the first time Buffy would be seeing her with her lovers. Intellectually knowing your mother has lovers in the plural was one thing. Seeing them...Joyce was pretty much dreading that.
Dawn was cool with it. Dawn was cool with everything since she got to go to college in Dublin where she was determined to some day run into Bono and marry him--regardless of the fact he was more than twice her age and already married.
Descending out of the blustery cold, Joyce headed for the Piccadilly Line that would take her to the Northern Line which would take her home to Hampstead Heath.
*****
"I'm amazed at your ability to get real wood for the fire, Rupert."
Giles dusted off his hands and rose from the hearth, smiling at the blaze and the warmth. "Can't have a true Solstice celebration with coal."
"Probably should hide the leftover coal from the Slayer. She might be tempted to put some in my stocking."
"Or bean you with it." Smirking, Giles turned to face his one time nemesis, long time lover, and newly found companion, who lounged on the sofa, one leg over the other knee, drink in hand, looking like he belonged there.
"You're so domestic," Ethan smirked back, taking a sip of Scotch. "But you have heavenly single malt so I'll live with the frilly apron."
"If you're not careful I'll show you several illicit uses for a frilly apron.
"Tease."
As both men chuckled, finally after years relaxed with each other, the sound of the front door locks springing brought them both to their feet at the entrance to the parlor. Giles opened the door and immediately reached for several bags. Joyce surrendered them willingly so she could hang her coat and hat on the hook and join them in the warm parlor.
"Did you buy out the shops, luv?" Ethan asked, trying to peek into the bags Giles had passed him.
"Almost, and stop peeking!" She took the bags back and stashed them behind the sofa. "Be good boys or you won't get your presents."
"You don't like us when we're good boys," Ethan said, his voice low and seductive.
"Don't start anything you can't stop," Giles warned. "I'm not eating dry chicken again because you can't keep it in your trousers." Coming up behind Joyce, he hugged her from behind and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his lips feeling the bumpy scars, the only remnants from the tumor that nearly took her from him and made him realize how deeply he loved her.
"I'm not the one kissing her or touching her."
"...Let me turn off the oven," Giles said with a put-upon sigh.
"Last one to bed gets to be the bottom!" Ethan took off for the stairs with Joyce laughing right behind him.
Shaking his head in amusement and feeling the curling of lust between his legs, Giles walked into the kitchen to turn off the oven and cover the half-cooked chicken. The squeaking of bedsprings above him told him they'd started without him.
But, that was all right. He'd turn the tables on Ethan quickly enough once he was worn out from exuberant lovemaking with Joyce.
Grabbing a frilly apron off the back of a chair, he slung it over his shoulder and whistled as he headed for the stairs.
And once they were all sated and relaxed they'd eat and welcome back the light that really never left them anymore since they'd found each other.
End