He's got a certain look, sometimes, though, that I find attractive, and I can imagine him using it on purpose.

Probably practiced in the mirror before dates until he was twenty. And, yeah, I see it too, but he got me with the wordplay first. Although, writing him? His sentences go on for six years, sometimes. Or they are not sentences at all, just kvetchy fragments. Feast or famine.

But Munchkin - like Portnoy - is all about the kvetchy fragments, damnit. They work fine.

Yeah, probably not if you're his gf. And I read that damn book until it fell apart, it should surprise nobody to know.I'm not sure why...intially I think my mother got it from the library and I felt like I shouldn't be looking at it. Then there was the how the other half lives thing. And well, he's practically screaming. About jerk-off contests and such.Guess it didn't hurt anything, unless you want me to eat liver. I didn't tear up the library copy...I bought another one. Cause I know people here hate people violating(and I don't mean porn. honest) library books. I can see the letter now.

Dear Mr. Roth,
My friends tell me I do an excellent impression of you.Signed, your unlikeliest fan evah, Erika

(gigglegiggglegigglesnortgiggle)

Yeah...you know I'm pretty sure I'm not who he had in mind. And I have not thought about those books in years...except for the one where Nathan turns into a breast, because it is so like the bad fic. And as such, really kind of hideous. But I start writing the Munchkin, and some part of my brain remembered all of it. Huh. Hey, if we ever did meet up, who'd be at the word-processor first? Me or him? (But even he wouldn't be as surprised as Spike Lee. I think I could make him speechless for probably the first time in his adult life.) ETA: Iirc, the love of his life, the first serious gf that Portnoy feels the worst about jerking around? Her name was Kay.

more V!Giles

Sister Agnes brought tea out to the grape arbor and sat across the table from Joyce.

Joyce accepted her cup. "So, what happened to all the Knights' horses?"

"Oh, the horses." Sister Agnes settled in comfortably. "We sent a message to the monastery of the Knights, and a few weeks later several novices came to collect the horses and to hear the tale."

"Were they angry?"

"Not in the least, thank God. They seemed far more relieved that Glory was defeated. They said a few prayers next to the graves and left." She smiled tightly. "Well, they left after I forbade them to salt the earth where Glory is buried and other similar things. She's not going anywhere, there's no reason not to leave her in peace."

"So it's been quiet otherwise?"

The nun nodded. "A typical summer. A few more visitors than normal, but no problems. We always get a few wanderers stop by who are exploring the roads and find their way here."

Joyce glanced at the chapel. "What do they make of Saint Eugene?"

"If they notice, they never say anything. Savlin and the others stay out of sight, and the visitors have a nice tour and leave. The rangers come through occasionally, but no one bothers us." She smiled and sipped her tea. "So, tell me how everyone is."

Joyce told her about the gallery, Buffy and Dawn in summer school, Tara getting back to perfect health, and Willow busily studying. The easy words slowed when she reached Xander and Anya. She told of how worried people were about Xander and how he pulled away when his friends tried to find out how he was.

"They're pushing him too hard," she said. "I told Buffy he need room and time, but she's too worried about him to leave it be."

Sister Agnes nodded. "She sees a challenge and must defeat it. They want everything to go back to normal, but some things never can. Are he and Anya still . . ."

"I think so. I didn't ask. Too many people keep asking him things."

"Poor boy." Sister Agnes stared at her tea cup for several moments. "What of Mr. Giles?"

"Well . . . I think he's still around. Buffy hasn't said anything either way. I haven't seen him, and I don't know if any of the others have. I know Buffy misses him. She'll start to say his name, then change the subject." Joyce shook her head. "They all do."

They sat in silence, sipping their tea.

Xander retrieved his tools from the car and, followed by his faithful shadow, Baynar, went through the convent repairing and building. Sister Teresa's kitchen work table had its wobbly legs tightened; Sister Mary got some new shelves for her herbs. Sister Dymphna bashfully asked him to take a look at the mangers in the stable, and he found some scrap wood in a corner to incorporate into the renovations.

It was good, silent work. Baynar quickly learned the English for "nail" and "hammer" and "saw" and such, and the only thing heard for hours was the occasional request for a tool and sound of woodwork. When Xander paused for a drink of water, though, he heard whispers and quiet giggles just outside the stable. He peeked outside; three young women in nuns' habits squeaked guiltily.

"Uh, hi," he said.

The three looked at each other nervously, then the shorter one smiled. "Hello."

"Have we met?"

They all shook their heads. The taller one took a nervous breath. "We're novices. We've only been here a few weeks. I'm Sister Yvonne."

He couldn't help smiling. "I'm Xander."

The medium one was just gathering her courage to speak when a throat was cleared behind them. Sister Dymphna stood there, trying to look stern. "Sister Teresa is looking for help in the kitchen, sisters."

The three novices immediately tucked their hands into their sleeves, nodded demurely, and headed serenely back towards the gate. When they rounded the corner, though, there was the sound of more giggles.

Sister Dymphna sighed. "They're very young, and new to their vocation. But they're good girls. I remember being young." She glanced at Xander, then looked away, blushing just a little.

Xander looked at her curiously, then remembered that, in the heat of an August afternoon of hard work, he'd taken his shirt off hours ago. You weren't supposed to wander around nuns half- dressed. He scurried into the stable to find his shirt.

Sister Dymphna looked over her nearly-rebuilt stalls. "This looks lovely, Xander, thank you. But you don't have to do it all today. It's almost time for Vespers and supper." She looked pointedly at Baynar, who was burrowed into the straw. "And I know someone's mother expects him to be clean for supper." Baynar did his best innocent look.

"Come on, dude, there's no fighting it," Xander laughed. "They always make us clean up for supper." He put his tools into a neat pile for later, then held his hand out to Baynar. "Let's go in before your mom comes looking for us."

Baynar pouted, then leaped out to grab Xander's hand.

Connie - thank you. I don't post a lot, but I try my best to keep up, especially with all the Buffista Fic. I just love this story.

Ahhh... More V!Giles fic on an otherwise crappy day. Thank you so much, Connie.

BTW, I absolutely adore the way Xander and Baynar interact. I always got the idea that Xander would be a cool dad.

Yay, Connie.