Oh, Ew! Ick!
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Stargate
A/N: In answer to Challenge 2906 Soap Opera Family.
A/N2: Set in the Summer after Season 4, BtVS, and just prior to Season 4 of Stargate SG1.~~~~~In which, our heroes squick themselves over what they are, and what they've done.~~~~~
Giles opened his door to find, to his deep surprise, Joyce Summers standing there, looking rather … embarrassed. “Joyce,” he greeted with a smile. “How may I help you?”
“Er, well,” she began as she sidled into the apartment. “This is kind of somewhat awkward.” She sighed. “I need you to find Buffy's father.”
Giles blinked. “I had rather thought he was in LA. Tea?” he called as he walked into the kitchen.
Joyce cleared her throat as she blushed. “Yes, thanks. And, er, no. Not Hank Summers. It's actually one of the reasons we divorced. He couldn't stand the thought that his little girl was someone else's little girl. And, well, I would like to think that Buffy had someone else to fall back on if … well, this is the Hellmouth, after all.”
Giles began to clean his glasses. “Quite,” he murmured. “So do you have any idea about who Buffy's father is?”
“Oh, yes,” Joyce nodded. “He's in the Air Force. Or, at least, he was in the Air Force. Jack O'Neill was his name. Of course, that was twenty years ago, so I don't know if he's even in the Air Force any more, or what is rank might be, or, well, anything. Do you think you can do that?”
“It shouldn't be too much of a problem,” Giles decided as he brought the tea things out to the table. “One thing I do need to know is if you have any problem with the Council being involved? After all, if we are to do this mundanely, they would be our best bet.”
“No!” Joyce all but yelled. “No, I don't want those … people to have anything to do with this. I'm sorry, Giles. Is there any other way?”
“There is a spell,” Giles offered. “It's something like a locator spell, and will point out close blood relatives. So you will be marked, as well as Dawn and Mr O'Neill, and any siblings, or even half-siblings. Generally not cousins, though,” he added contemplatively. “I will need supplies,” he went on absently. “Blood, of course.” He wandered off to find a book, and Joyce sat at the table, looking at her tea.~~~~~
“What are you doing, Giles?” Willow chirped as she looked at the materials set up on the older man's dining table.
“What?” he asked absently. “Oh. Just a little project I have going. It involves Buffy.”
“Me?” Buffy squeaked from her position on his couch. “What are you doing about me?”
“Just a little … thing. I shall need some blood. Not much,” Giles assured, smiling slightly. “Just, oh, let's see,” he peered at the book. “Let's say a cup. To be on the safe side.”
“Isn't that an awful lot of blood, Mr Giles?” Tara asked softly.
“Yes,” Giles frowned. “It is an unusual amount. For a spell. What I meant was that it wasn't much for Buffy to give. The problem is that the spell may need to go a fair distance. It's … a form of locator spell,” he explained vaguely.
“So you're looking for long-lost relatives of the Buffster?” Xander asked, inspecting the preparations.
“Er … yes, Xander,” Giles agreed, surprised. “How did you guess?”
“Blood,” Xander nodded sagely. “And you said it was a locator spell. If you're using that much blood to find something, I'm guessing it's a someone, and blood makes it a relative. But I could be way wrong, too,” he shrugged.
“No,” Giles murmured, looking at the young man oddly. “You are exactly right. Would you like to see how I do it?”
Xander glared at the older man from under his eyebrows. “You're not getting me into this, are you? Have we not forgotten the speaking of Latin in front of books?”
“Actually, that does raise an interesting point,” Giles considered. “You said a simple incantation, and set the book alight. I was more annoyed about the fact that you tried to destroy one of my books to realise what you had done. Perhaps you should join Willow and Tara with magic practice.”
Xander's eyes grew wide. “Uh, no, Giles. I don't think I'd be very welcome when they're, um, 'practising their spells.'” Buffy snorted with laughter, while the other two girls went red. “Anyway, the mojo's really their thing. Not so much for the Xan-man.”
“Really, Xander,” Giles chided, “if you can perform magic that easily, you really should learn properly, lest something untoward happen.”
Desperate, Xander turned to Willow for help. The redhead giggled, then put on her scholastically-inquisitive face. “So what are you doing with the spell?” she asked.
Prompted by Willow, Giles dropped his eyes to the supplies on the table. “Oh, yes. Right then.” He set his book up on the book stand, and gathered the herbs and other supplies. “Buffy, if you would come here, please.”
Buffy rolled her eyes at Xander, and muttered as she passed him, “The things I do for you.” By the time she had reached the table, she had her sleeve pushed up. “And I thought the vampires were bad enough,” she teased.
Giles measured out the portion of blood, and set it aside. He lit the candle sitting in front of the book, and began to chant the spell and mix the ingredients. Willow looked on avidly, Tara curiously. Xander sat back, trying to not show too much interest – Giles might forget about teaching him magic if he faded into the background for the next little while. Buffy, meanwhile, began to nibble at a thumbnail, trying not to get too excited.
As they watched, a number of coloured lights rose from the potion now sitting on the table. As Buffy looked at them, she realised that all the lights were either red, blue, or some combination.
“Red is for your mother, Buffy,” Giles explained as they looked at the lights swirling in the bowl, “and blue is for your father. That one,” he indicated a purplish light, “would be for Dawn. The other two lights are … half-siblings?” he offered. “On your father's side, since there is no red in them.”
“Oh, look,” Buffy pointed, “they're speeding up.”
All of the group peered into the bowl again, and the lights were, indeed, speeding up, nearly at the top of the bowl. Suddenly, the lights crowned the edge of the bowl, and spun out. The two half-sibling lights slammed straight into Willow and Xander, throwing them, unconscious, to the floor, while the other lights shot straight through walls into the night. Giles took note that father light headed off in a direction that it was most definitely not towards LA, but rather back to the East. And left something of a burn mark on the wall as it passed through.
“Giles!” Buffy cried, lifting Xander up while Tara checked on her girlfriend. “I thought this spell was supposed to work on blood, not best friends.”
“It is,” Giles frowned. “It has nothing to do with bonds of affection, but only blood.”
“Then why did it take out my two best friends?” Buffy demanded.
Giles rubbed the back of his neck. “Did the lights go into them, or through them,” he asked.
“Into them, Mr Giles,” Tara declared. “I saw the light move into Willow, like it was trying to become part of her.”
“Well, then,” Giles offered, “there may be more to your friendships than any of us considered.”
“So, they're, like, really my family?” Buffy asked, grinning. She then blinked and made a face. “Oh, ew,” she grimaced. “I suddenly squicked myself on that dance I had with Xander, Junior year. And very glad I never took him up on anything. Oh, oh, he is going to be so embarrassed when he finds out.”
“Finds out what?” Xander groaned, pushing himself up off the couch. “The licence of that truck that hit me? And what's with trucks in your dining room, Giles?”
“Um, no,” Buffy began, blushing. “That would have been the half-sibling light that hit you, not a truck.”
“Damn,” Xander muttered. “Knew I shouldn't have been sitting so close.”
“No, Xander,” Giles smiled, cleaning his glasses, “I don't think a few feet would have made much difference. The light went into you, not through you,” he smirked.
“Into,” Xander repeated.
Buffy gave a sick grin. “Yeah.”
“A half-sibling light went into
me,” Xander tried again.
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed again.
“Which means that we're … half-siblings,” Xander tried yet again, and the story was not getting any better.
“On our father's side,” Buffy nodded.
“Really?” Xander whined. “I got the dead-beat dad? No offence, Buff, but if I had to be related to you, couldn't I get your mom? Although, that would mean that she had sex with Tony, and that he is still my father, and suddenly I'm seeing the very good of this!” he finished with a grin.
Buffy looked at Tara, and held up five fingers, which she counted down. When she had two fingers left, Xander shot to his feet.
“Oh, ew!” Xander shouted. “Oh, gods! I can't believe … that means… Giles!”
“I most sincerely hope you're not going to blame me for any of this,” the older man frowned. “What you children may or may not have done in this regard has nothing to do with me.”
“Oh, gods, Xan,” Buffy gasped. “You kissed Willow!”
“And?” Xander asked, looking for his friend. Seeing her only now waking up, he paled. “Oh, please tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means.”
“No,” Buffy nodded vigorously. “No, it doesn't.”
“No, what doesn't?” Willow asked groggily.
“Uh, the fact that you were both hit by half-sibling lights does not mean that you kissed your half-brother on your father's side,” Buffy assured in a blatant lie.
Willow's eyes grew wide as she turned to her now-greenish best friend, then sighed and collapsed back into her girlfriend's arms.
“You know,” Giles frowned. “I really should have made sure Spike was here. I could have charged him admission. Or at very least recorded this so I could sell the concept to some soap-opera maker.”~~~~~
Xander peered at the compass set down on the table. “You know what? I just had a thought. Does the Hellmouth affect Magnetic North?”
Giles looked at the young man, startled. “Oh, um, w-well… No, actually. No, it doesn't. I just had to think about it, but it is a different kind of energy. Apparently.”
“Cool,” Xander murmured. “So I'm getting around about East-North-East for the direction. Any more accurate, you're going to have to read it yourself. You got the distance reading?”
“Yes,” Giles murmured as he peered at the compass. “If you could open up that map...” he trailed off, making notes.
Xander, meanwhile, opened the map out onto the other end of the table. He fiddled with it, straightening it to reflect the proper direction, and measured out the distance. “Okay, roughly fourteen hundred miles, East-North-East, brings us to … Colorado Springs. Which could be right, if Dear Old Dad is still in the Air Force. It's a military town, NORAD not being the least of our worries. Peterson, Schriever, Fort Carson, plus the Academy. Not to mention it's got to be, what, ten times the size of Sunnydale?”
“Still getting flashbacks?” Giles asked mildly.
Xander grimaced and dropped his head. “It comes and goes,” he admitted. “I think he spent time there, possibly out of Cheyenne.” When Giles simply raised his eyebrows, Xander continued. “NORAD is based out of Cheyenne Mountain Air Station.” He looked up at the older man. “So how does it feel to get out of telling Buffy that Hank isn't her dad?”
“I have rarely been more pleased to see someone in my life,” Giles admitted wryly. “And, of course, it is much better to hear such a thing from one's own parent,” he added.
“Got that right. Certainly better than being slammed in the chest by a little glowy light,” Xander smirked.
“I have apologised for that several times, Xander,” Giles returned in a long-suffering tone, “and I refuse to do so again. Now our next question is how do we get there.”
Xander tapped the tabletop as he thought. “Go down on your knees and beg for the use of Mrs Summers' SUV? Offer your mid-life-crisis-mobile in return, and promise that Buffy never gets to drive?”
“It would hold all of us,” Giles considered.
“Providing the girls can restrict themselves on their packing,” Xander added.
“We won't have much room for weapons, though,” Giles frowned. “Not with everything else.”
“One duffle bag each for clothing, one for weapons, and a very strict load limit on books,” Xander decided with a sharp stare at Giles.
“I am quite sure I don't know what you mean,” the older man murmured as he wandered off.~~~~~
The group gathered in the driveway of the Summers house, saying their final goodbyes.
“No, Buffy,” Xander ground out, exasperated, “you can't take it: it won't fit.”
“But we can squish it in,” Buffy attempted.
“Where?” Xander demanded, eyeing the fully packed rear section of the SUV.
“Um... Under our feet?” the blonde tried.
“There are three of you sitting in the back,” Xander argued, “it's a long trip, do you really want something cramping you during the trip?”
“And why are the three of us stuck in the back, anyway?” Buffy pouted.
Xander ticked off his fingers. “Giles and I are taller, we are broader, and we are driving. Do you really want either of us crammed in the back with you?”
Buffy scowled as she inspected her Xander-shaped frie- brother, and realised he was not a little man. She knew that, but she often forgot, as he was so much a part of their group. She too often considered him just one of the girls, and somehow downsized him mentally to be just like her. Except when she needed something off the top shelf. She sighed. “Fine. Hog the front seats. See if I care.”
Xander laughed, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head, before ruffling her hair. Dodging the batting hand, he scooped up Buffy's third (and rejected) bag, and carried it back to the porch. Walking back to the vehicle, he grinned at his other sister (He had sisters! It was so cool!)
Willow looked up at her brother, grinned, and pumped her fist. “Woo-hoo!” she called. “Road trip!” When Xander bit his lip and looked at Buffy, Giles coughed, and Tara fidgeted, Willow shrugged self-consciously. “Too excited? That was too much, wasn't it?” she squirmed.
“It was very sweet, sweetie,” Tara soothed with a kiss.
“I was actually trying not to laugh at the cuteness, Will,” Xander explained. “You being cute is kind of funny. But in a good way. In a that's-my-sister, isn't-she-cute, way. Or that's-my-girlfriend, but that only works on the Taras around here,” he added with a serious nod.
“Dear God in Heaven,” Giles murmured, “it runs in the family.” He cleared his throat, and glanced at Joyce. “Are you sure the gallery needs you at the moment? I could volunteer,” he suggested.
“Oh, no,” Joyce shook her head. “You're the Watcher, you're the man with the magic, you get to deal with all that. And the SUV won't seat six, and Tara's been so very much looking forward to the trip,” she added persuasively. “And I'm not packed. And I have Dawn to look after...”
“Yes, yes,” Giles nodded, rolling his eyes. “I do believe you've made your point.”
“Good,” Joyce smirked. “Okay, well, you're all packed, we've all said goodbye, so I think it's time you all get in the car and get going, don't you? Colorado's not getting any closer.”
With the, the girls piled into the back while the guy sat in the front, Giles taking the first shift of driving. With waves, and farewells called out of open windows, the group left Sunnydale on the first (patent pending) Scoobie Roadtrip.