“Go on, Anya,” Xander urged with a smile. “Itâs traditional; you see
someone under the mistletoe, you get to kiss them. Unless itâs my Aunt
Clarice, in which case you pretend really hard that youâre about to
throw up and hide in the bathroom until...never mind.”
Anya looked at him. “Shouldnât you be jealous and possessive,
threatened and alarmed, at the thought of me kissing another man? I
know you wouldnât mind if it were Willow or Tara, because men find
lesbians highly attractive, which makes no sense -”
“Honey! Just leave it. It doesnât matter. Iâm sure Giles doesnât know
heâs standing right under it and Iâm sure youâre the last person heâd
want -”
Anyaâs eyes flamed with indignation. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. You interrupted me and Iâm very glad you did. Anya? Come back
here!”
Ignoring the frantically hissed whisper, Anya stalked across the Magic
Box and tapped Giles on the shoulder. He turned and gave her an
absentminded smile. “Ah; everything tidy? Iâll just lock the back door
and we can all go home.”
“After Iâve kissed you.” She waved a hand up at the mistletoe. “You
have to pay a forfeit and be kissed. Xander said you wouldnât want to
because it was me, but...”
Giles took off his glasses, the better to glare at Xander who was
hovering by the door, a sheepish, apologetic grin on his face. He
placed them on the counter and smiled down at Anya, seeing the hurt she
was trying to hide.
“Xander, not for the first time, has it completely wrong, Anya,” he
said with unaccustomed gentleness. “Iâd be...honoured if you were to
kiss me. Itâs a tradition I have fond memories of and Iâm sure theyâd
increase were you to -”
Anya listened until sheâd heard enough to be sure Giles was sincere,
beamed, and moved in closer. Taken by surprise, as heâd been expecting
a swift peck on the cheek, Giles instinctively gathered her to him and
deepened a kiss that had begun as warm and ended up passionate. As
Xander watched, open-mouthed with shock, they surrendered to whatever
magic lingered in dry branches and pearl-white berries until his
hesitant protests broke the spell.
“Ah. Quite. That was...delightful, Anya. You and Xander have a pleasant
holiday and do drop by for a drink, wonât you?”
Anya smiled. “That would be nice. Did you decorate your home as well as
the shop?”
Giles followed her gaze upwards and smiled. “Oh, yes.”
When the shop door closed behind them, he reached up and yanked at the
sprig of greenery tucking it into a bag. No sense leaving it there to
wilt, he told himself. Might as well take it home with him.
He was up until midnight hanging streamers and holly, and trimming a
tree, but it was worth it. Anya came the next day...and the next...and
if the mistletoe was hung where he couldnât help but stand under it as
he opened the door...well, that was pure chance.
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