The message was a surprise! It had been so long since any of us had heard from our old mentor. He was spending his twilight years cataloguing antiquities in the British Museum. The wheel had turned full circle.

We were invited to spend Christmas with him and as I said it had been a while. We all dutifully arrived in a ’parcel’ just as we always had on his doorstep to receive news of the latest ’menace’. Our numbers were sadly depleted with Buffy no longer with us. All of us were older and wiser, well, perhaps not wise in my case. Cordelia looked very elegant with upswept hair shot through with grey. Oz still looked the same to me perhaps it was the influence of the wolf within.

Anya stood at my side impatient to be in; she doesn’t like the cold it gets into her joints. I can’t say as I like it much either. I knocked on the door again. I heard someone call "I’ll get it!" The door opened wide.

"Giles?" I gasped. He hadn’t changed a bit. No, it couldn’t be. He looked younger.

The young man smiled and I saw a hint of Willow’s mischief there. No, it was Giles’ son Jack.

"Come in, Come in all of you. Nippy out there isn’t it? We’ve not had snow at Christmas for years." Jack took our coats and deposited them in the hall. He led us through tall sliding oak doors into a light and airy living room.

"I’ll go and make the tea, Dad will be down shortly. He’s having a nap."

We all gravitated to the warmth provided by the fire in the huge Ingle-nook fireplace. After warming themselves the others sat down on one of the long sofas in the room. I decided to have a ’nose around’ By the French windows leading to the conservatory I saw an oil painting bathed in the weak winter morning light. It was Willow. Lithe and glowing with life she was holding some flowers in her hand and was looking out of the picture with happy sparkling green eyes. I moved closer and her eyes followed me. I stepped back in shock was she laughing at me?

"She always does that y’know. I think she bewitched the canvas as I painted her."

I whirled round at the familiar voice. Giles. Really Giles! He walked slightly stooped and more slowly than I remembered. He’s Seventy you idiot! His lean frame still lean but his face had a hint of pain as he sat in his leather wing backed chair. He smiled and the pain vanished. How is it some people just don’t age? Their hair just greys. In Giles’ case it made him look more distinguished and his hair was still more brown than grey.

"Hello everyone, Jack’s getting the tea." He glanced at Willow’s picture I could swear she winked at him. He smiled gently. "They’re all here again, love. Just like old times." Jack came in and deposited the tea. We all had china cups Giles took his mug from the tray caressing it lovingly, Willow’s last Christmas present to him.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" We looked at each other. We knew of course that Giles had taken to writing Children’s books about a grouchy vampire called William. With a penchant for hot chocolate but did he really intend to tell us fairy tales all Christmas?

"About my misspent youth? I think you’re old enough to understand now." He took a gulp of his drink. I put my teacup down and we leaned forward in our seats. Eager for a story…

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