Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the intellectual property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, et al. The Indiana Jones series is the intellectual property of George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, Paramount Pictures, et al. No money is being made from this story and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: I had a dream, back at the beginning of 2004, about Giles having sex with Indiana Jones. I decided that was simply too implausible to write and sidetracked the bunny into a Harry Potter story involving Bill Weasley and a Muggle librarian.

Late in 2005, the bunny came back. This time it dragged along a setting and a plot, which are much harder to ignore than a free-floating PWP idea. So I gave up and wrote the blasted story.

This story was finished in January '06, and the epilogue was finished in January '07. They draw on TV canon only.

Summary: While searching for a mystical object in the temple of a demonic fertility goddess, Rupert Giles finds himself imprisoned in a single room, along with a man who has been caught in the same trap for nearly sixty years.

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Epilogue
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Nine and a half months later, Giles had begun to think he and Indiana had escaped any potential consequences of their meeting with Caiquetl. Indiana had settled in to the London branch of the Council as a researcher and retrieval expert, while Giles resumed his Sisyphean efforts at corralling Slayers into a functional organization. The London Slayers had adopted Indiana as something of a favorite uncle, and even Willow and Xander seemed to have forgiven him for 'corrupting' Giles, or some such nonsense.

Buffy and Dawn were the only ones still holding back their approval. Giles hoped their visit to England might change that situation -- he disliked the sense of estrangement from the girls, though he had no real claim on them as family -- and so far, their first dinner was going... not swimmingly, perhaps, but much better than he'd feared, given Buffy's occasional bouts of possessiveness.

As they reached the end of the meal, Buffy set down her knife and fork and stared at Indiana. "Okay. So far, you don't seem demony or end-the-world evil. But that doesn't mean you might not be a creepy loser, and Giles doesn't need to get his heart broken again! If you're going to be... um..." -- she waved her hand, looking awkward -- "doing stuff with Giles, I need to give you the shovel talk."

"Buffy!" It was beneath his dignity to lean over the table and attempt to strangle her. And she meant well; he knew that. She was just so bloody infuriating sometimes, and she had no sense of appropriate dinner table conversation.

"Don't worry, Xander and Willow already covered that one," Indiana said, and flashed his magnetic smile at her; under the table, his hand brushed against Giles's thigh. "Even Andrew got in on the act, though I don't find plastic spatulas very threatening."

Dawn laughed, and then tried to look sober when Buffy frowned at her. "Sorry," she said, with an unconvincing cough. "It's just, you know, I got a mental picture of Andrew in his pink apron waving a spatula and calling it 'The Mighty Spatula of DOOM,' and going on about the mystic powers he's infused into it via the secret, deadly rites of Klingon--"

The sound of a gong shivered through the dining room, and Caiquetl coalesced from a rainbow shimmer by the doorway to the kitchen.

She was carrying a baby, wrapped in a red and black woven blanket.

Giles froze in his chair.

"Rupert Giles, dear Indiana, one brings you the fruit of your offering," Caiquetl said as Buffy grabbed a butter knife and lunged from the table to face her. "She is yours until twice eight years, when she must come with one to fulfill her destiny as champion of Tlaxlatalhualpo, one's other realm."

Buffy's gaze never wavered from the avian goddess. "Giles. Translation?"

"Ah. Er. She says... that is..." He couldn't seem to shake his mind back into functionality.

"This is Caiquetl, demon fertility goddess of the Tzoteca," Indiana said, rescuing him. "The kid's ours, courtesy of a semi-involuntary offering. I didn't know she could make a baby, Ripper," he added to Giles. "How did she do that?"

"That's nothing special -- if a group of crazy human monks can make a person, a goddess shouldn't have any trouble," Dawn informed him with a superior sniff. She pushed past her sister and tapped Caiquetl on the arm. "You. Hand over the baby. If she's Giles's daughter, then she's sort of my family, and I want dibs."

"Erm," said Giles, as Caiquetl handed the child to Dawn.

The goddess's eyes gleamed and her beak gaped in silent laughter. "One does not offend the Key, Rupert Giles, even if it currently wears human flesh and cannot touch the bulk of its power. The Key has a long memory."

Giles stared at Dawn, hoping she hadn't learned Tzotecan without telling him. But Dawn was ignoring Caiquetl, in favor of brushing a wisp of brown hair off the baby's forehead -- off his daughter's forehead. "She's cute," said Dawn. Then she looked over at Giles, her eyes as ruthless and measuring as Buffy's hunting gaze. "So what's the catch? I don't think it takes that many words to say, 'Here's your kid; she's from that offering you made.' Translate, Giles."

"She's the destined champion of Caiquetl's other realm, and the goddess will come to take her when she's sixteen," Giles said, reluctantly. He tried to look away from the tiny figure in Dawn's arms. He'd already come so close to losing Buffy -- had lost Buffy -- and to accept this child and lose her too...

"Over my dead body," said Buffy, pulling Dawn behind her and glaring at Caiquetl. "We don't do destiny around here. We change destiny. If you need a champion, we've got dozens -- prove your cause is good and we'll work for free. Leave Giles's daughter out of it."

"What she said," agreed Dawn, letting the baby grab her fingertip in a pudgy fist.

"Have I mentioned lately that I like these girls?" Indiana whispered to Giles, sounding far too composed for the situation. Then he waved to Dawn. "Hey, come over here. I want to see my daughter."

"But--" protested Giles, weakly.

"But nothing," Indiana said. "I always wondered what kind of dad I'd make. Now we get to find out." Dawn claimed an unused chair beside him and he scooped the baby from her arms. "She looks a bit like my mother -- same set to the eyes. The nose has to be from your side."

Giles glanced down -- yes, the girl's nose did bear an unfortunate resemblance to his father's sharp, prominent features -- and then looked back over to Caiquetl and Buffy. "Please don't hurt Buffy, most glorious Caiquetl," he said. "She is like a daughter to me... and to Indiana," he added, which wasn't strictly true, but might bear more weight with the goddess.

Caiquetl held up her hand, glowing with a rainbow shimmer of power, and Giles found himself abruptly unable to move. Judging by the boiling frustration on Buffy's face, the spell affected her too; he couldn't turn his head to check on Indiana or Dawn.

"One delivered the offering personally in order to observe the child's home and family," Caiquetl said in clear English, her accent tinged with middle America. "One is pleased. And while one will still collect the destined champion in twice eight years, one never said that the champion could not bring or receive aid. Destiny cannot be broken -- you, Slayer, are still a Chosen One, are you not? -- but as you say, it can be altered."

She looked over at Giles and Indiana, her dark eyes laughing once more. "Raise your daughter well. This is the second half of your offering. Consider the slight inconvenience of her arrival your payment for dear Indiana's parting request."

The gong rang again, and Caiquetl vanished in a reverse shower of rainbow light.

Buffy lowered the butter knife and turned to stare at Giles and Indiana. "What parting request?"

"Dry cleaning," Indiana said. "Fertility offerings tend to be messy."

"Oh," said Buffy, and then, in a suddenly disturbed tone, "Oh. Okay, that is totally gross, and I don't want to know any details, ever. God, Giles, do you leave out things like that from all your stories? Wait, no, don't tell me. Oh, yuck." She offered him a weak smile. "I'm going to go bleach my brain now, but I'll bring milk or something when I come back."

She fled. Giles covered his face with one hand and wondered if it were possible to die of mortification.

"Stop that," Dawn said, reaching behind Indiana to poke him in the side. "I don't want details either -- and can I just say, eww! -- but it's not the end of the world. Now act like a dad and say hi to your daughter, who, by the way, needs a name." She bit her lip. "Um, if you don't mind, I think Joy sounds pretty -- it's short for Joyce, but it works on its own, too..."

Indiana placed the girl -- their daughter -- in Giles's arms. He stared down into her face, watching her eyes shift to focus on Indiana's dangling hand. Her right hand closed around one finger, and drew it toward her mouth.

"She's got a good grip for an infant," Indiana said. "My side of the family again, I bet."

"Bullshit," said Giles, before he could stop himself. "You can't claim all her good features are due to your blood, and there have been several notable fighters in my family."

Indiana grinned, that magnetic flash of white against his tanned face. "Yeah, I know. I'm looking at two right now. Three if you count Dawn."

"I'd totally count me -- Giles is more like my dad than Hank Summers ever bothered to be," said Dawn. "So... you're not going to do anything stupid like try not to care about her, or dump her on Indiana and run away, right?" Giles wondered when Dawn had learned to read him so accurately, and how she'd missed that it was already far too late for him to take either of those courses.

"I think, as they say, that ship has sailed," Indiana said. "You're right, though, the kid needs a name. I've got no objections to Joy. You have any suggestions, Ripper?"

He could think of few people more worth honoring than Joyce Summers. "Joy sounds fine to me," said Giles, cradling his daughter in his arms -- cradling Joy. He offered her a finger, which she tried to gnaw on; the lack of teeth impeded her success. Then he shot a crooked grin at Indiana. "Besides, I think 'Bewildered Confusion' is a trifle unwieldy for a name, and that's the other emotion I feel at the moment."

Indiana didn't kiss him -- perhaps in deference to Dawn and Joy -- but his smile promised the world.

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AN: Thanks for reading, and please review! I'm particularly interested in knowing what parts of the story worked for you, what parts didn't, and why.