Xander was walking to Giles's house, cold rain falling on him and
his feet sloshing in the wet snow. The Sunnydale winter was as
lousy as ever, and the fact that Xander was going to Giles's to do
research on a Sunday didn't make him feel better at all. Giles had
been very persistent that he needed help, and Xander was the only
one who couldn't make up a plausible excuse to skip.

     And now his feet were getting wet and he would quite possibly
catch the flu of the decade. He sneezed. Oh yes, there it was. A small
consolation, though; now he had the means of payback to Giles.

     As he reached the door, it took quite a while for Giles to open up.
Xander sneezed violently again, sprinkling the door with bacteria.

<'Kay, now his *door* has the flu. Maybe it'll sneeze some of
Giles's books away,> Xander thought, but regretted it instantly. Giles
was a miracle-worker, but weather was one of the few things out of
his reach.

"Good Lord. Xander, you look like the proverbial wet kitten," Giles
said when opening the door.

"Ya think?" Xander glared at the librarian.

"Come in, I'll get you something warm."

     Giles helped Xander's jacket and shoes off, wrapping a blanket
around him and seating him on the couch. Xander didn't know which
way up to stand, because he wasn't used to all that excessive
caretaking. Only Willow had tucked him in, once when they were
younger.

     Xander found that after the awkwardness had gone, he liked the
feeling. Giles had nicely warm hands, he had probably spent the
whole day inside. It reminded Xander just why he was there, bundled
up warmly, and he glared at Giles again.

"Can I fix you some tea?"

"Hm, let me think... As much as I would love a cup of dried old
leaves, no thanks."

"Hot chocolate, then?"

Xander grimaced. "Yes, that'd be nice." Xander couldn't resist
chocolate in any form. <So much for the quilt trip for the
Bookman.>

     Giles returned with two steaming cups and he handed the one
with teddy bears to Xander. He inspected it for a moment, but didn't
say anything. Giles and teddy bears were too much even for his
imagination. He took a sip.

"Be careful, it's..."

"OW!"

"...hot. Did you hurt?"

"Nah, if's nuffing. I'm fine," Xander mumbled, trying not to hurt his
burnt tongue.

     Giles laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

Xander looked up in his eyes. The pain in his tongue seemed to ease.

"Yes," he breathed.

"Uh, w-well, that's good. Just rinse it with cold water i-if it starts to
hurt again," Giles babbled, drawing the hand away. For a brief
moment, Xander was sorry. He looked around, balancing the cup on
his knee to cool.

"Hey, you've gotten the whole place all candle-y."

"Y-yes, I like candles in the winter. They, they give nice illumination
when it's..."

"Dark?"

"Yes, that, that would essentially be it."

"Well, it's pretty. And, now I know that if you'll ever flip from too
much Watcher duty, you'll turn into a pyromaniac."

Giles gave him an awkward little grin.

"I've always wondered what happened to retired Watchers," Xander
continued. "And now I know. They're all in the Alcatraz prison for
the criminally insane."

"Um, Alcatraz isn't, strictly speaking, a prison for the criminally
insane, or, in fact, in use any more."

"Oh. Where are they, then?"

"No Watcher has yet to survive alive to the day he should retire."

"Oh." His grin faded as he saw the sadness in Giles's eyes,
remembering that his father had been a Watcher.

Xander bit his lip. <It's now or never. If I'm gonna give him this
damn flu, I've got to do it while I'm still not all forgiving and
sentimental.> He sneezed again, but it was so violent that it threw his
whole upper body forwards, and only a few sprinkles hit Giles's
trousers.

<Okay. *That'll* teach him.> He took the handkerchief Giles
handed him, and ran the alternate options in his head. <So, droplet
infection is out. How else does flu infect...?> A crazy thought flicked
briefly in Xander's mind, but since he couldn't think of anything else,
he decided to carry out his idea.

     He leaned forward, wetting his lips and placed them on Giles's.
Xander closed his eyes, not seeing how the librarian's eyes widened
in surprise. His mouth played gently on Giles's, teasing the older
man into responding.

     The kiss grew deeper, far more deeper than Xander had intended,
but he didn't want to let go. This went beyond the mere flu. His
hands felt so good, and so did his lips and tongue. Far better than
any girl's before.

     But eventually he had to let go for some air.

"What... what was that?" Giles asked the boy, his eyes as round as
plates.

"I gave you my flu."

"Oh." Giles frowned. "It, it quite seemed like kissing from where I
was standing."

"Oh. Well, it was that too."

"Why - why did you give me your flu?"

"I wanted revenge. For making me to come here and catch the cold in
the first place. And now I'm sorry."

"For kissing me?"

"No. For the flu. I could never be sorry for kissing you," he added
bashfully, almost whispering.

"Xander..." For once, the master of words was speechless.

"That bad, huh? You're right. I shouldn'tve... I'm..." he was rising up,
but Giles's hand stopped him.

"If you're going to say you're sorry, I will be very disappointed of
you."

"Like everyone else?" Xander said perhaps a bit more strongly than
intended, shoving the hand away.

Giles took another grip of him, pressing the boy back. "I, I didn't
mean it that way. I didn't think that was... disappointing. On the
contrary, it was very courageous of you, but I, I must admit that it did
leave me more than a tad confused."

"I should've known better. That my kisses are always destructive."

"They need not be that way. They can also be constructive."

Xander looked up. "Which way was that last one?"

"Which do you want it to be?"

"You know I would never want to hurt you. Have I?" he asked, fear
flickering in his eyes.

"No, no. Just..." <...made me love you more tenderly and fiercely
than I ever loved Ethan, during these years I've known you,> Giles
added silently.

Xander gave him a small smile. "So... what're we going to do now?"

"Study." Giles patted the pile of books on the table.

"Noooooo!" Xander threw his upper body back in mock frustration.
"Anything but that!"

"That's what you came in here for in the first place." Giles handed
him an old book. "It will give you time to think. Take your time,
don't rush into anything."

"But what if... I care about you, Giles, you know that. Like I care
about all of you. Well, maybe not Angel, but... you get the point."
Xander paused, as if to first taste the next sentence before saying it
out loud. "We live on the Hellmouth. What if something happens
before I..."

"Xander." Giles leaned forward. "I will always be here, whatever you
will eventually decide."

Instead of making a wisecrack comment about Jedis, Xander just
drew a shaky breath which made the candle on the table flicker.
"Thanks," he whispered, trying to fight back the flood of emotions
rushing over him.

"Are you all right?" Giles frowned at the hunched form of the boy.
<I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry," Xander chanted in his mind
and took another deep breath, lifting his head.

"I'm fine. So, studying," he added a little too perkily to fool Giles.

     Both men turned at their books to read, but neither of them was
concentrating completely to the task at hand.
 

The End