FIC: Once Upon a Time in the House of Scooby

["cdreramius" <o163210@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Disclaimers; Joss owns the sandbox, I'm just building my own little 
castle in it.

Author's note; Mike McD asked me to put this vignette together as 
part of their House of Scooby series. The story takes place at the 
end of Bad Habits; Buffy and Xander are locked in the laundry room 
and Willow is hunched over her computer. The story centres on Joyce 
and Giles. Man, Joss blew some storytelling opportunities with those 
two!

Rating; PG-13

Summary; Joyce reflects on Buffy's relationship with Willow and 
Xander, and remembers the two loves of her past.

Once Upon a Time in the House of Scooby
By Kirayoshi


I loved you for a long, long time 
I know this love is real 
It don't matter how it all went wrong 
That don't change the way I feel 
And I can't believe that time's gonna heal 
This wound I'm speaking of 
There ain't no cure, 
There ain't no cure, 
There ain't no cure for love.

     --Leonard Cohen
      "Ain't No Cure for Love"
*-*-*-*-*-*

`Well, this has been an interesting evening.' Joyce reflected as she 
stared at her basement door. 

For the last few weeks, since the evening that Xander would later 
refer to as the "Dead Man's Party", the growing relationship between 
Buffy and her closest friends (and lovers) had grown increasingly 
strained. Buffy had been distancing herself from Willow and Xander, 
while Xander seemed to have his own agenda to consider. He had been 
sending the new Slayer, Faith, on all manner of errands, not 
explaining their significance half the time. He would just shrug and 
say, "It's for the future." His secrecy in the end only served to 
drive the wedge further between him and the others.

Finally, Willow had enough of the friction between Buffy and Xander. 
In a desperate effort to make peace, she threw them in the basement, 
and conveyed to both Joyce and Giles in no uncertain terms that the 
door was to remain locked until Buffy and Xander had worked out their 
differences. Not wanting to anger the young witch/computer hacker, 
who if Xander was to be believed was quite capable of destroying the 
world, Joyce nodded and complied with Willow's wishes. After a while, 
Joyce heard angry yelling and slamming sounds beneath the floorboards 
and fought the urge to break down the door and separate Xander from 
her daughter for his safety as well as hers.

Things had quietened down since then, save the muffled hum of the 
washing machine. Joyce smiled to herself; the silence was a good 
indicator that the two were working it out after their heated 
argument. Her smile diminished as the thought of another possibility 
for the silence; possibility of one having killed the other.

Joyce was about to knock on the basement door to check on the two 
when she heard a new sound. 

The kind of sound that made Joyce blush.

"Uh, Rupert," Joyce called out nervously from the kitchen, anxious 
for an excuse to get out of there, "would you care for some tea?"

"I'd be delighted," Giles answered. "Black please, two sugars."

Within three minutes, Joyce emerged from the kitchen with two 
steaming china cups in her hands. Giles accepted a cup from Joyce's 
hand and sipped contentedly at the hot, sweet liquid. "Hmm," he mused 
as Joyce took her seat on the sofa and enjoyed her tea, "from the 
silence, I may assume that Buffy and Xander have either made up or 
killed each other."

"Trust me, Rupert," Joyce flashed Giles a knowing half-smile, "it's 
not exactly silent down there. From what I heard they are definitely 
making up."

"Oh, well, that's... good. I think." Giles stammered then chuckled at 
Joyce's inference. He sipped his tea again, noticing Joyce's 
thoughtful expression. "Does that bother you, though? Buffy's 
relationship with Willow and Xander, I mean?"

"What's that?" Joyce asked innocently. "Do you mean the fact that my 
daughter has found happiness and stability in her life, and she has 
friends who won't desert her? You're right; I'll put a stop to it at 
once!"

"That's not quite what I was thinking." Rupert corrected himself 
quickly. "It's just that right now your teenaged daughter and Xander 
are evidently..." Giles search for an appropriate term, "being 
intimate in your basement. Most conventional parents would have an 
understandable objection to that fact."

Joyce glanced ruefully at Giles. "True. But the phrase `conventional 
parent' pretty much flew out the window when I first saw Buffy slay 
that vampire at the parent teacher night last year. Trust me, my 
daughter is not conventional. And I won't begrudge her what happiness 
she can find in this world." 

Giles nodded slowly, recognizing the wisdom in Joyce's words. Ever 
since the day last year when Xander had emerged from a temporal rift, 
seven years older and a lifetime wiser, Buffy's world had certainly 
changed. Not only did Xander's insight into future events serve Buffy 
and the others well, but the new bond that Xander had forged with 
Buffy and Willow had proven beneficial for the Slayer. Giles didn't 
show it, but he was greatly relieved to learn that the bond would 
hold despite their recent difficulties. 

"You are certainly broadminded about your daughter's relationship," 
Giles commented.

Joyce stared intently at the reflection of the living room lights 
playing against the surface of her tea. "Well," she answered, a faint 
melancholy colouring her voice, "I think I understand how Buffy, 
Willow and Xander work. From personal experience actually."

Giles' eyebrow shot up. "Oh? I had no idea."

"No one did, really," Joyce admitted. "I never really had any reason 
to bring it up around Buffy. I guess I wasn't quite certain how she'd 
take it. Besides, after recent events&" She said nothing more; she 
just went back to contemplating the teacup she held in both hands.

Giles nodded slightly, seeing the traces of mourning etching lines in 
Joyce's brow. "You don't need to talk about it if it's still painful. 
I understand perfectly."

"Thank you, Rupert," Joyce shook her head, "but I think I do want to 
talk about it. I think I could use the closure, really."

Rupert placed his teacup gently on the coffee table, and moved closer 
to Joyce on the sofa. "Take your time." he assured her.

Joyce swallowed one last gulp of tea for courage, and continued. "You 
remember Pat, right? From that dinner a couple of weeks ago?" She 
fell silent, and Giles nodded in complete understanding. He did 
remember the tragic events of that night, when Joyce's friend was 
slaughtered during a zombie attack, only to rise as an undead fiend 
and don the cursed mask that Joyce had appropriated for her gallery. 

"Hank and I were high-school sweethearts," Joyce continued. "He was 
on the football team, I was a cheerleader, the classic cliché. 
Anyway, we managed to enroll at UCLA together after we graduated high 
school, and that's how I met Pat. She and I were roommates during my 
first year at UCLA, and we bonded from the first day we met. We 
weren't the same, nothing like that, but we had many things in 
common. Favourite movies, dreams for the future, hobbies, interests, 
that sort of thing. She was dating some artistic type the first month 
I knew her, and they double-dated with Hank and me a couple of times. 
Then Pat walked in on her boyfriend..."

"Let me guess," Giles interrupted, "he was in bed with another woman?"

"Close," Joyce answered wryly. "Another man."

"Oh dear." Giles breathed. Joyce chuckled at his all-too-British 
expression.

"Anyway," Joyce continued, "Mr. Starving Artist wasn't heard from 
again, and from what little I remember of him it's for the best. I 
never really liked him; always got the impression he was sponging off 
of Pat. I don't ever recall him picking up the check at a restaurant. 
Of course Pat was miserable for the following week. So Hank and I 
insisted on spending time with her, to draw her out of her funk. We 
went to movies together, lectures, outdoor concerts. We were the 
original Three Musketeers. Hank, Pat and I were inseparable. 

"Pat was the closest and best friend that either of us had ever had. 
I'll admit to being something of a flake back in high school. Back 
then, any friendships I had were a mile wide and an inch deep. With 
Pat it was different, you know? The three of us found ourselves in 
the middle of this big, deep, fantastic friendship.

"It was after the fall finals that things changed. We all aced our 
exams, and we wanted to celebrate. We ordered Chinese food, Hank 
managed to sneak in a bottle of wine into the dorm, and we ended up 
getting a little drunk. Pat and I started feeding each other sweet-
and-sour beef with our chopsticks, then I fed some to Hank because he 
was starting to feel left out. Pat proposed a toast to the three of 
us, thanking Hank and me for being there when her jerk of a boyfriend 
bailed. Hmph, I don't really recall when it happened. I think Hank 
commented that he enjoyed being with the two sexiest women at UCLA, 
which led to Pat and I appraising Hank's sexiness. Before I knew it, 
Pat leaned in to hug Hank and she suddenly kissed him on the mouth.

"I should have been angry. If I were fully sober I probably would 
have been. But before I could remind Pat that she was kissing my 
boyfriend, she broke it off and then leaned in toward me. I became 
aware of her closeness, I could smell the shampoo she had used that 
morning and the perfume she was wearing. Then before I knew it she 
was kissing me. Hard. And I was kissing back. 

"When I finally pulled away, I glanced at Hank, who just wolf-
whistled. Then Pat beckoned to him, and he leaned in toward us and we 
hugged. His lips were on my cheek, then on my mouth, then on 
Pat's...I lost track of who's lips were where, or who's hands were 
touching me where. The only thing I knew was that I was having the 
best sex of my life. Uh, I'm not shocking you, am I, Rupert?"

"Uh, no," Giles stammered slightly. "Not entirely. I'm somewhat 
surprised that you...that is, well...I guess still waters run deep."

"Believe me," Joyce laughed, "It wasn't planned. But once it 
happened, it didn't just feel good. Or even incredible. It felt 
right. Like the three of us were puzzle pieces that finally fit 
together with each other."

As she spoke, Joyce's eyes took on a wicked gleam and a sly smile 
creased her lips. "I woke up the next day effectively sandwiched 
between my boyfriend and my best friend. Between the three of us 
there wasn't a stitch of clothing. And amazingly enough, there were 
no regrets. Something had changed between us. We got dressed and had 
breakfast over at the Student Union Building, and we talked about 
what had happened. We all agreed that the three of us came together 
because we needed to be together. And for the next few months, that's 
exactly what we were. Together. Hank kept his dorm, but for the most 
part he ended up sleeping with Pat and me. We made plans for the 
future, we shared our dreams, our hopes and desires as well as our 
bodies. Please understand, Rupert, this wasn't an experiment for us. 
Hank, Pat and I were in madly and deeply in love with each other. 
There's no other word for what we had."

Rupert gave Joyce a reassuring nod. "I understand perfectly. But 
somehow I sense that this story doesn't have a happy ending."

Joyce lowered her head, shaking it slowly. "Just before Spring break, 
Pat's parents came in for a surprise visit. And you can imagine the 
expression on their faces when they saw their daughter making out 
with another woman. The choice they gave her was simple; transfer her 
credits to another school and sever all contact with Hank and me, or 
they would cut her off completely. Hank and I never even had a chance 
to say goodbye to her." Joyce stopped talking long enough to close 
her eyes and compose herself, willing the lump in her throat to go 
away. 

"Hank and I still had each other," Joyce continued, "and for a while 
it seemed like enough. We got married and had Buffy, and I believed 
that I had the perfect life. And I kept on believing it until the day 
I caught Hank with his secretary, taking more than just dictation." 
She snorted derisively at the memory of her husband's infidelity.

"About that time, Buffy had begun changing. She had been getting into 
trouble, out all night partyingor at least I thought she was 
partying. Under the circumstances I wish it was just partying. And 
Hank took the opportunity to casually write himself out of our lives."

"Sounds like the man was a perfect cad." Giles commented sagely.

"Maybe," Joyce answered. "But after a time, I came to the conclusion 
that Hank and I only really worked because of Pat. Hank and I had 
passion, we had fire, but we were too different. Pat brought a 
balance that we otherwise lacked. After she left, Hank and I 
remembered her a lot, we sort of summoned her spirit whenever we 
argued. We thought of what she would say to us, and somehow that 
helped us smooth over the rough patches for the first ten years or so 
of our marriage. Actually, it worked both ways; after Buffy and I 
moved to Sunnydale, I was amazed to run into Pat in my neighbourhood. 
We got together and talked about the old times. She had married and 
divorced, just like me, only much faster. Evidently he was a `nice 
boy' her parents approved of, but turned out to be abusive. He only 
got to hit her once though. She then called the police and she agreed 
to drop all battery charges in exchange for a quick no-fault divorce 
and a promise that he would never contact her again. She and I had 
actually considered going out on a date, and seeing where the fates 
would take us. But things changed between us. As much as we may have 
been love before, we were now only friends. And for Pat and me, it 
was enough."

Joyce sipped the last of her tea, and sighed quietly in 
thought. "Then came the zombie party a few weeks ago, and, well..." 
She fell silent and Giles didn't prod her any further about Pat or 
their affair. She absently dabbed at the faint trace tears in her 
eyes, inhaled deeply and turned her face toward Giles, grateful for 
his understanding demeanour and kind smile. 

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," she smiled at the uptight 
Englishman. "I guess I needed to unload more than I thought I did."

"No problem, Joyce," Giles answered warmly. He caught a glimpse of 
Joyce's eyes, the way they lit up when she smiled. He found himself 
wanting to see that light again. "The loss of a loved one is never 
something that should be borne alone. You were there for me after 
Jenny's death, this is the least I could do in return."

"Thank you," Joyce nodded. "But now, putting it into words, I finally 
understand why Buffy, Xander and Willow found each other. In a way, 
Xander and Buffy are a lot like Hank and I were in college. All 
passion and fire. If they alone were a couple they'd probably have an 
intense relationship, but all too brief. But Willow, she's like Pat. 
She somehow balances them, keeps them grounded. Even locks them in 
the basement when necessary." She found her mind wandering back 
toward the young redhead who had become like a second daughter to her.

"When Buffy first told me about her being the Slayer, I wondered how 
Willow fit into her crazy life. I couldn't believe that this sweet-
natured young thing had survived the terrors that Buffy faced every 
night. Heh, turns out she's probably one of the strongest people I 
ever met."

Giles nodded in full agreement, a faint glow of fatherly pride 
lighting his features. "I concur with you on that score, Joyce. It's 
never ceased to amaze me how Buffy's friends have supported her. And 
given the bizarre circumstances of her life, I thank God every night 
for them."

"So do I, Rupert," Joyce answered emphatically. "So do I."

Neither Joyce nor Giles spoke for a full minute. A profound silence 
hovered over them, one that clarified thought and emotion. The 
Slayer's mother and Watcher sat together, enjoying a perfect peace, a 
moment of closure that didn't require words. Indeed during this time 
of reflection words would have been an intrusion. Without tears, 
without shame or regret, Giles was able to bid farewell to Jenny 
Calendar, while Joyce made her peace with Pat.

"Oh my," Joyce finally broke the silence once they felt the 
profundity of the moment fade away. "That was certainly a deeper 
conversation than I expected."

"I'll say," Giles agreed. "Normally I only have that kind of depth 
after a good bottle of scotch."

"Well, I've got a bottle of red wine if you'd care to share." Joyce 
suggested. Giles briefly contemplated the offer.

"I think I'd like that." Giles smiled at his companion. Joyce fetched 
the bottle, two glasses and the opener. Handing Giles the bottle and 
the opener, she watched as he did the honours.

Sipping at their drinks, they savoured the rich and complex flavours 
of the wine.

Complex. It was the one word that perfectly described the lives of 
the House of Scooby.

"So, Rupert, I heard that you weren't so `conventional' in your 
college years either."

Giles chuckled.

"One could definitely say that."

With a little prompting Giles told the stories of his misspent youth 
to a fascinated Joyce who began to see the stuffy Englishman in a new 
light.

For the rest of the evening before Giles returned to his home, he and 
Joyce chatted amiably about everything and nothing. Their friendship 
had grown significantly over the last few months, and the night had 
both of them finding a new and deeper level of friendship between 
them.

Yes, Joyce thought with a smile on her face as she headed for bed, 
this has been a very interesting evening.

FINIS



Willow: "It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
Buffy:  "I kinda love you."
                     'Choices'

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