The Pretenders.

Willow was behind it all. And surprisingly, Anya agreed with her, happily on board. Dawn, too. And Buffy, reluctantly. Xander was the last to agree, but even he added something to the planning stage.

On the other end, there was Cordy, Fred and a little bit confused Gunn, who helped not knowing why he did it, apart from Fred asking him and Cordy threatening him. Angel helped, too, a little less broody than usually.

It was a crack team that foiled many evil plans, fought with hell gods and ate demons for breakfast, though not literally and Anya announced that statement as politically incorrect.

What chance did they have, then?

They fought pretty well through set-ups, blind dates, suspicious mistletoe's placement, Secret Santa affair and Willow's try to spike their egg-nog... but that was the last straw that didn't break any back, because that would be cruelty against animals.

Being trapped in a cottage, in the middle of a snowstorm, with Wesley and no clothes whatsoever? Not Giles' ideal Christmas.

"At least there's fire," Wesley suggested a tad too cheerfully and Giles wondered if Willow hadn't spiked the egg-nog *again*.

"This is going bloody too far," he muttered, in as dignified way as he could, having only Santa's cap to cover himself.

"True, but what can we do? It's not as if they're going to stop until we..." he stopped, then smiled happily in a way that made Giles quite afraid, and he wasn't a man who got scared easily.

"Wesley?"

"They won't stop until we're together," Wesley announced, still in a state of probably drugs and knowing Willow also magic induced haze.

"Yes?" Giles thought that maybe he should make a run for it... even if his current state of nakedness and the freezing cold outside. "What's so bloody funny about that?"

"Well, then we should."

There was not a word to describe Giles' shock, but if there was it would have at least four syllables.

"Are you out of your senses?!"

"No, just listen. They come here in the morning and find us in bed, cuddled and whatever else they expect..." he paused to see Giles' reaction, which was along the lines of 'over my dead body' expression, only a lot more polite. Wesley ignored it and continued. "They assume we're together... and we would be... for at last two weeks. Then we break up, and they will stop bothering us about it, not wanting to hurt us, right?"

Giles just looked at him.

"And we'll have peace at last. So, good plan?"

It clicked, like a christmas lights' switch, shining through the mists of shock. "You mean we'll pretend?"

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Of course."

Giles shook his head. "Not going to work. They're going to expect, ah, how they call it... PDA's and all..." he moved his hand between them "that... things."

"Well, considering that you're not exactly famous of being affectionate in public, I am sure that we will get out lightly, few kisses and it would work," Wes shrugged. What was the big deal?

"You mean... kiss you?" It couldn't have been a squeak, because everybody knew Rupert Giles was too manly to squeak, but it came close, really close. "But... they would know it's not real, surely."

"Oh, that's why we have to practice," Wes moved to sit next to Giles, looking at him expectantly.

"Pr-practice?"

"Uh-uh," was the only thing Giles heard before Wes' lips found his, before he opened his own, letting the tongue sneak inside...

When they came out for breath finally, after what seemed like forever, after moist moans and hands wandering where they shouldn't during an innocent practice which wasn't real in any way, and they would both repeat it loudly, they looked at each other, shock mirroring on both faces.

"No need for practice," Wes managed to croak.

"Indeed."