Title: Snow and Fire
Author: Gail Christison

(notes and disclaimer with part one)

They were disturbed in the morning by the sounds of engines running. Giles almost had apoplexy when he looked at his watch. It was almost eleven a.m.

Buffy scrambled up and went to look out the window. "It's a snow plough!" she cried. "They've cleared the track all the way up to the house. And there's an RV, with chains. Two men just got out. One might be a doctor. One looks like a policeman or a sheriff or something…what do they have up here? And there's one more. He's looking at the house."

"Clothes," Giles suggested. "Fairly quickly, eh?"

They were downstairs very quickly, dressed in hastily pulled on jeans and sweaters, their hair brushed in the most basic fashion, Buffy's pulled back into a ponytail, just before the front door opened.

"Hi," she said awkwardly, when the third man straightened from unlocking it.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"The name is Rupert Giles, and this is my…fiancé…Buffy Summers."

Buffy shot him a startled look, then composed her face and turned back to the others with a sweet smile. "We've been looking after Mrs McAllister and the animals since the storm started. We kinda got stranded, ourselves."

"Is that so?" the good-looking man with the keys drawled. "Do you want to tell us what you were really doing in my house, uninvited?"

Buffy and Giles looked at each other, then Giles cleared his throat. "As Buffy told you, we were stranded by the storm. We came here and discovered all the animals to be untended and unfed. A search of the house found Mrs McAllister upstairs in the attic. She fell trying to get preserving jars down to pickle some onions."

"Why don't you go upstairs and ask her yourself?" Buffy snapped grumpily.

The man, however, was now paste-white, looking from one to the other darkly. "That would be an interesting exercise," he said grimly. "Considering that my wife died three years ago."

It was Giles and Buffy's turn to blanch.

"Then who…?" Buffy gasped and looked up at the Watcher, whose eyes had narrowed.

"Do you have a dog, a cat, or horses on the property?" Rupert asked very quietly.

The man stared. "Our collie pup, Rusty, is with my daughter Robin, at her grandmother's. His sire died a while back, after pining for my wife for a long time. We haven't had horses since she died, and there was a half-wild cat that used to sleep in the barn. I haven't seen it in years. The only livestock out here since the pigs went to market is the chickens. A friend from the next property over has been watching them for me."

Giles and Buffy looked at each other again. "We should check upstairs," Buffy whispered, and looked to the other man for confirmation. The other two men had long since withdrawn and were outside checking the house and talking to the grader driver.

He nodded.

Buffy frowned for a moment…Robin…Rob…she called her Rob…" She looked up. "If you don't mind me asking…what's your first name?"

"Andrew," Giles guessed quietly.

The man nodded, surprised, but too overwhelmed to react. "My wife always called Robin, Rob."

They all stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, staring at the untouched bed, the empty watcher pitcher and glass on the side table, the bottle of painkillers still with them.

"How did your wife die, Mister McAllister?" Giles asked very quietly.

"She was thrown from her horse…up here, on the property, and broke her neck. She died instantly."

"S-so she didn't die in the attic?" Buffy ventured.

Andrew McAllister shook his head. "But she did fall the Christmas before she died. And it was onions. Robin was here and found her. Her ankle was broken in two places. It took her weeks to get back on a horse again. And the first time she did…"

"Then why…?" Giles paused at the man's puzzled look. "Usually spirits only return to, or remain stranded in a home if they're troubled or have unfinished business."

McAllister frowned. "This is crazy. I mean there've been a few things. Stuff moved and lost things suddenly appearing as if from nowhere, but I just…I thought it was me being absent minded, or imagining things."

"She said she didn't know if you were going to make it home for Christmas," Buffy pointed out. She said things had been hard and you were away a lot."

"I was. We had a bad year, that year. I got a sales job, on the road. I didn't make it home for Christmas because of a storm. They were snowed in then, too."

He stopped suddenly.

"A family of four died that year, caught in the worst blizzard around here in fifty years. Their car was buried. The police think they decided to sit it out and fell asleep with the car all shut up tight. It got buried and they asphyxiated from the carbon dioxide build up…never woke up again. They were only about a hundred yards down the road from here. Rhiannon never forgave herself for not having the lights on, not knowing … somehow."

At that moment the bedside lamp flickered to life and the electric clock began to flash.

At Giles and Buffy's startled looks, McAllister explained: "Lonny must have just turned the power back on. I haven't been up here in over a week. My daughter needed to have her tonsils removed, so we moved to town with my parents for the operation, and her recovery…and Christmas Eve, naturally."

"Um…we cooked Christmas dinner yesterday," Buffy pointed out, "and there were security lights on the night of the blizzard. That's how we found the place."

McAllister shook his head. "I turned everything off. Didn't want to draw attention to the place when there was no one here to take care of it."

"That's why she was here," Giles said gently. "She was righting a wrong. She brought us here so that history wouldn't repeat itself."

Buffy looked up at him, a tear tracking down her right cheek. "I liked her a lot."

"We both did," he said, smiling reassuringly, before looking up at their companion. "We apologise for invading your home. We…we didn't know, though I don't suppose we'd have done much differently, given the circumstances."

"Don't apologise," McAllister insisted, his own eyes very bright. "If Rhiannon needed peace and you gave it to her, I can only thank you."

Giles nodded and smiled again. "She was very happy. It all seemed so real…the animals, the food…the tree."

Andrew McAllister tilted his head to one side. "I did leave our tree up, so it would be there for Robin when we came home and Connie, a friend from the next farm, was going to stock the refrigerator for us, since we were supposed to be back today. The fridge and freezer are on an independent circuit. They have to be able to be switched over to generators automatically when the power goes out. They're the only things that weren't turned off when I left."

Buffy sighed. "Well that's a relief, because my stomach would have sworn it was given real food. G-Rupert is going to pay for the stuff we ate. There's still some pate and brie and a bunch of salmon left," she said apologetically.

"Don't concern yourself," McAllister said, smiling a little. "It sounds like Connie was planning to be here to meet us." At their inquisitive look, he smiled a little more widely. "Connie is a divorcee. She's been very helpful since Rhiannon died, and she loves Robin. Just lately though, she's been, well, letting me know she's interested in more than just mothering my daughter."

*******

"That's weird."

Giles took his eyes off the road long enough to look at his companion. Buffy had pulled her sweater off her shoulder and was looking at the smooth, unbroken skin.

"The ghost cat made ghost scratches," she said whimsically. "All gone. See?"

"I see," Giles said low in his throat, taking another glance at the silky skin, and the exposed section of breast below it.

Buffy looked up at his tone and smiled provocatively. "Enjoying the view?" she teased.

"Absolutely," he growled as they came up to the outer limits of Sunnydale, and shifted in his seat.

Buffy slid her hand over his thigh and stroked the overfilled denim of his jeans, smiling as his breathing grew more erratic and he moved again in his seat. "I see what you mean," she teased. "Good thing we're only a couple of minutes from home, now."

"A bloody good thing," he agreed fervently as she relented and withdrew the hand.

Never had the apartment complex looked so good. As soon as Giles unlocked the front door, they dumped their stuff just inside and he locked it again.

"We're not telling anyone we're back for at least another twenty four hours," he growled, switching on the lights and turning to her.

"Damn right," she agreed.

The phone rang.

"No one," Giles repeated as they both looked at it.

Buffy shook her head. "No one."

They continued to look at each other.

"Oh, hell," he said.

"You've gotta get an answering machine," she growled as he went to answer it.

"It was Willow checking to see if we were back yet. I told her that as far as the world was concerned we were still in the Sierras, and that if she behaved I'd give her that book she's been badgering me about."

"You think she knows?"

Giles looked down at his love. "I'd say so. She told me that she would quote: tear out my oesophagus, unquote, if I hurt you in any way."

Buffy giggled. "Willow is having Riley issues, which are really kind of Oz issues, but with Riley's face now," she explained, leaving Giles as much in the dark as when she'd started.

"But she's not going to tell anyone we're here, right?"

Giles shook his head. "She promised. Not even Tara."

"And that's why we love her so much," Buffy purred and walked into his arms. "You still have one more present to give me, Mister Giles," she growled.

Giles lowered his head and claimed her lips, both of them hungry for the other, exploring, taking, even nipping at each other's bottom lip between moments of total submergence, until neither of them could think straight. He drew the sweater over her head and threw it away, letting her glorious breasts tumble free, his breath caught by her sheer loveliness.

In reply Buffy swiftly undid the buttons of his shirt, dragging it out of his jeans and pushing it off his shoulders, so that he simply let it fall to the floor. When she paused again, and looked up at him, her face was flushed and her eyes blurred with desire.

Giles couldn't stop himself from claiming her beautiful mouth once again.

She groaned against his, as his fingers slid around the curves of her breasts and caressed the soft flesh, making her arch into them and shudder as her hand slid down to his groin and covered the bulge in his jeans.

A moment later she found herself swept off her feet. They were halfway up the stairs before she could even blink. When she realised how wonderful it felt, she rested her head on his bare shoulder and decided to enjoy the unaccustomed gallantry.

When they reached the loft, Giles laid her on the bed and simply looked at her, dressed only in her pink jeans, her hair rumpled, cheeks red and eyes flashing. She was … simply magnificent. It took his breath, the knowledge that she loved him, the desire in her eyes.

He drew an overwhelmed breath. Everything he wanted, more than he ever deserved…

Buffy, watching him, watching the play of his thoughts across his handsome face, drew herself up and stood on the bed, so that she could slide her arms around his neck.

Overwhelmed by the combination of her scent, her subtle perfume and her softness, Giles kissed the smooth spot between her breasts, making her groan. Then he began a slow, sensuous play of lips and mouth across the full, soft peaks of creamy white flesh, enjoying the sounds of her pleasure.

His hands slipped down as he took a rigid pink nub in his mouth, and undid her jeans. Then he drew them down over her hips and let them drop. At the same time, Buffy took his head in her hands and pulled it to her breast, so that he obligingly opened his mouth fully and claimed his prize, Buffy crying out as his tongue circled her over-stimulated flesh and his lips kneaded the warm softness of it.

"Oh God, Giles," she groaned as he lifted her free of her pants at the same time, and slid his hands over her hips to cup her firm, round buttocks.

"Buffy," he breathed, lifting his head and moving so that he could kiss his way down her body, over her soft belly, lowering himself to her waiting centre.

It was all Buffy could do not to scream as her body exploded with desire and pleasure from his touch…they'd waited so long and she wanted him so badly that every nerve ending was electrified…and when his mouth finally found her swollen desire, she did cry out, and her legs almost gave way.

Giles continued, exhilarated by her shudders and wanton cries of pleasure.

And then, suddenly, she was kneeling, undoing his belt, his zipper, pushing his pants away, so that they dropped to the ground, stunned to find him also without shorts, his overburdened manhood springing free and demonstrating exactly how desperately he wanted her.

Nearly as much as she wanted him…she reached out and closed her hand around him, heard his rasping intake of breath at her touch, and lowered her own head, tasting him. And continued, her eyes dancing when she heard him swear as his hips arched to meet her provocatively descending lips.

"Jes…ohhhhhh!" he rasped as Buffy expertly drove him mad. When he could stand no more, he just as expertly lifted her and shifted their positions until he was able to capture her lips, kissing her passionately as he moved himself over her.

He was almost trembling as her legs curled around him and their kiss became a battleground of tongue and teeth and lips.

Buffy whimpered as he held back, feeling his hardness brushing against her as the kiss continued, arching upward to meet it, her whole body burning for him, her centre throbbing with all the repressed need of the last few days.

And then large hands were holding her hips, drawing her up to his.

Dual cries of ecstasy rang out through the apartment as they were joined.

Their lovemaking continued for an endless time, revelling in each other, striving to the power of each other until neither could hold back the tide any longer. Almost simultaneously they exploded, Buffy arching and thrashing beneath him, as Giles gasped and cried out, thrusting deep and fast until he was as utterly spent as she was.

And when they finally collapsed, both immediately sought out the other, their kiss this time slow and tender.

"I love you," she said, when they broke.

His big fingers stroked her hair. "My heart," he whispered. "I love you more than I will ever be able to tell you. And I desire you far beyond words."

Buffy's smile widened, love making her eyes sparkle like diamonds. "Wow, I thought lovers only talked like that in books," she teased, though her voice was tender.

"Then you have never truly been loved," he told her huskily.

"Until now," she finished wonderingly, and knew that it was true. Her fingers went to his cheek and stroked it.

"I'm never going to be able to love you as much as you deserve," she whispered. "And I want to…more than anything."

Giles smiled, his eyes very bright. "You already have, love," he told her, touching the crucifix hanging from his neck.

Buffy's fingers immediately went to hers, her first thought that it was too precious, that she should have taken it off long before and put it back in its box.

Giles read her thoughts, her crestfallen expression, perfectly. "It isn't meant for hiding away," he said. "That clasp was made to last for a reason. Wear it for me, always."

She looked up at him, adoration in her eyes. She was speechless for several moments, before reaching up to slide her arms possessively around his neck.

"Always," she finally breathed, and Giles heard the tears of joy in her voice.

He pulled her close and held her fiercely, his own joy transforming his face, his green eyes alive with love and warmth and passion.

"Always," he whispered.

THE END