Work Text:
No Place Like Home
by Lucinda
The knock on his door was unexpected. He didn't have any relatives in this country, and after what had happened to poor Jenny, dating hadn't seemed like a very good idea. Generally, the children didn't knock, and it really wasn't the normal hour for them to be dropping by anyhow. Again, someone knocked on the front door.
Placing his cup of tea on the table, Rupert Giles stood up, one hand automatically trying to brush wrinkles from his trousers even as he knew that it was unlikely anybody here would care. "Just a moment."
A glance out the row of tiny windows beside the door showed that the sun had just set, color still lingering on the horizon without the protective rays of the sun. Cautious, he opened the door, remaining within the boundary of the house. "Hello?"
The woman was not anybody that he could recall meeting. With her long legs encased in close fitting leather and her remarkably... fit... body showing itself nicely with her blouse, not to mention the long brown braid and kissable looking lips, he certainly would have remembered her. She held a package in one hand, cradling it against her stomach. "Are you Rupert Giles?"
Trying not to stare too obviously, he nodded. "I am. Forgive me, but I don't seem to know who you are, Miss...?
"I'm Lara Croft." She smiled, teeth white against her tanned face. "My father's papers indicated that you'd contacted him several years ago regarding a list of artifacts. Apparently, you wanted the opportunity to place a bid on them if they ever came into his possession. One of those items has just come into my possession, and so I thought of you."
"Really?" He did remember Lord Croft, a somewhat eccentric man who enjoyed flinging himself into the path of danger to find all manner of old relics. If one of those items had surfaced... Stepping back, he motioned for her to come inside, saying only "Perhaps we could discuss the item over tea?"
"Thank you." Gracefully, she stepped over the threshold, her eyes roving over his home quickly, pausing over the sword partially exposed by the cupboard door being ajar. "No holiday decorations?"
"I didn't have anybody to decorate for this season." The words were a bit more bitter than he'd intended.
She simply nodded, her eyes suggesting that she knew that feeling. "It might be nice to have a proper cup of tea."
Feeling awkward, he poured her a cup of tea, asking, "Cream, sugar, lemon?"
"Please." Her voice hinted that while she might be tired, she didn't want to completely forget proper manners.
"I could almost still be in England." She murmured, sipping at the tea. "This is lovely, thank you."
"There would be snow in England." He murmured, remembering the elegance of the white-covered trees and shrubberies. The warmth of California might make fighting demons easier, but it just didn't feel like the winter holidays without snow. "It just doesn't feel the same without it."
"Ice skating." There was a twinkle in her eyes.
"Mulled wine and holiday carolers." He remembered, thinking back to his days as a student.
"It's very different in other places, isn't it?" She sounded wistful. "There's really not anywhere else quite like home."
"No, I suppose not." He agreed.
They reminisced about English holiday traditions over a few cups of tea before any mention of business came up at all, both enjoying the chance to talk to someone else who understood the feeling.
He was still smiling as he realized that she'd fallen asleep on his couch. Carefully, he draped a blanket over her, hoping that his couch wouldn't leave her back stiff. That would be a poor thanks for reviving his memories of home, after all. "Sleep well, Lady Croft."
end No Place Like Home.