Guardian II by JBG

Timeline: Warning - here there be spoilers for seasons five and six! Sequel to Guardian. Premise: How far will Buffy go to get her Watcher back?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination (and the characters I made up.) Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy and/or a bunch of other people own everything else in the Buffyverse.
Author's note: I pored over maps of Bath for this fic. If I have them going uphill when they should be going down, or place Giles' apartment in the midst of the business district, please forgive me. Some things are impossible to glean from the internet. ;o)
Buffy/Giles - rated PG-13

********

The nights were always cold now.

The reality of that could be explained easily. The difference in latitude, proximity to the polar ice layer that governs the weather on planet Earth, or the changing seasons. All of these were perfectly good reasons for the chill in the room.

He knew... of course, he knew... that none of those plausible explanations were correct. The nights were cold now because he was alone, truly alone, for the first time in five years.

So he stoked the fire in the ancient ironbound fireplace, gathered the worn blanket closer around him, and tried to will himself warm.

He'd been here for months, now, and thus far, it had never worked.

The ancient volume in his lap was his only comfort, it seemed. Even the glass sitting in front of him - the one holding several ounces of very good scotch - failed to deliver its promised oblivion. So he sat by the fire and tortured himself with memories.

Two days had passed since Buffy's curious telephone call. She hadn't mentioned his leaving, hadn't begged or berated him, hadn't even said that she missed him. Still, something in her voice made his heart twist in his chest. He imagined that she was longing for him even as he was longing for her. It was a pleasant fantasy.

The weather was growing steadily worse, the temperature dropping rapidly as soon as the pale sun had deserted its post. The sky was heavy with unsettled clouds, and he knew it would snow before dawn. Dawn... the word prompted a return to his memories of Sunnydale and the noisy, inconsiderate group that he missed so very much. They were in turn irreverent, insightful, noisy, thoughtless, generous and selfless, and he was proud to have known them all.

Leaving was worse than losing a limb, but staying would have meant losing his mind.

The combination of scotch and warmth finally caught up with him, and he dozed off, his head dropping to one side until it was against the high winged back of his chair. He might have had a terrible catch in his neck come morning if the telephone hadn't jostled him out of his restless slumber.

The blanket hit the floor as he fumbled along the sofa table for the receiver.

"H-hello?"

"Giles?"

He smiled at the familiar voice. Even with only one word to go on, he would have recognized Willow's voice anywhere. "Willow! How are you? Is everything all right?"

"Gee, even from ten thousand miles away you're still worrying about us!"

"Well, I... um, suppose it's become a habit. And it's a bit over five thousand miles, not ten."

"Oh. I should've known that, but I didn't. Anyway, everyone's fine. I'm still doing the non-magic thing. It's hard, but I'm okay. Anyway, I called 'cause I have some news, and I'm not supposed to tell you what the news is, but I can't stand it, and so I'm telling you. Sort of."

His delighted giggle seemed to catch the girl by surprise. "Willow, I have missed you."

"Giles, you giggled! Of course, I knew you giggled, everybody does, I guess. It's so cute. But I can't tell you, you have to guess. I can do hints, though. I'm warning you, I was never very good at charades and stuff."

"I can't possibly guess what is going on in that surprising mind of yours."

"Oh... you're gonna need clues... lessee... okay, it's a surprise."

He rolled his eyes and stayed silent for several seconds.

"Okay, that's not a good clue. I'll try again. It's a big surprise. Huge. Bigger than a first edition of 'Call of the Wild'. Life-changing big. Making-everything-all-right big."

"Willow, I have no earthly idea what you're talking about." His good humor was evaporating rapidly.

"Can't you at least try to guess? 'Cause it's big."

He frowned in thought, wondering what he could possibly say to her so he could ring off and go back to his Buffy dreams. The conversation was bordering on the inane. Finally, he said the first thing in his head.

"Does it have to do with, um, with Buffy?" He asked and then winced. How obvious, Giles, he chided himself derisively. Let's prove that you have no life apart from your Slayer, once and for all, shall we?

"Oh, see, you're better at this than you thought! The answer is yes."

"Something's wrong with her?" he asked instantly, all senses on alert.

"Not so much as wrong, but something's missing." Willow giggled at that, and Giles found himself growing impatient.

"Missing? She's missing?"

"No, she's not missing. Well, she's not here, so I guess technically she's missing, but I know where she is, so it doesn't count. Not here, but not missing."

"Is Dawn missing?"

"Nobody's missing! Not really, anyway..."

"Willow, this is an expensive overseas call, and it is very late in the evening. Please stop wasting your money and tell me what you want me to know."

He heard the girl sigh longingly. "I miss you, Giles, even when you're Mister Grumpy Bear."

He sighed hugely. "I miss you too, and I am not being a grumpy bear."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay, one more clue, and if you don't get it, I'll tell you. I can fudge a little and say you guessed if I'm interrogated, and it'll only be a little white lie... or maybe an off-white one."

"Willow, please..."

"She's following her heart."

That stumped him completely. He hadn't known Buffy's heart since she returned. Before her sacrifice to save Dawn, he would have said he knew his Slayer as well as he knew anyone on Earth. But the person that was raised from her grave was a stranger to him.

"I have no idea what you mean," he stated flatly.

"You know Buffy always loved you, don't you?" Willow's voice took on a pleading tone. Please get it please get it please get it, she mouthed silently, her eyes to the ceiling. "No matter what, she did. She does. She didn't even know how much. You know how challenged she is, emotion-wise. But the other day she had a kind of... um... epiphany, or something."

"I don't see what that..." A flash of an idea crossed his mind, and he almost dismissed it outright. "Willow, has Buffy done something foolish... and expensive?"

He's close, she told herself with a bounce. "Actually, it's probably the most un-foolish thing she's done since... well, since she came back."

"It doesn't have anything to do with..." He cleared his throat roughly. "She wouldn't, I mean, she doesn't have the money to... she's never been... she wouldn't know how to even find..."

"Darn it, Giles, I tried to keep it from you, but you guessed. I'm not sure of the exact time, but..."

He grabbed a pen from the table and scrabbled for a piece of paper. "I'm listening."

And he did listen, intently.

********

She did her best to not look like a first-time flyer. She was dressed casually, her blonde hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail, her carry-on strapped over her shoulders diagonally and her arm firmly holding it in place. She had her tickets in a zippered pocket, her money exchanged, and her sunglasses within easy reach. She even had a fleece-lined coat over one arm, something she would have forgotten if Willow hadn't helped her pack. She may have been traveling light, but there was no use freezing while she was doing it. She certainly looked like a seasoned traveler.

The truth was, she was dog-tired and feeling miserable. She had been booked on a stand-by flight to save money, and had immediately been bumped twice. She'd been at the airport for almost 24 hours, and the lack of sleep was making itself known. She'd worked a couple of double shifts to get some time off, so she was running on a deficit of rest before she ever set foot in LAX.

It had been hard for her to wait until just a few days before her flight before calling Giles. She had written a short letter and mailed it, but suddenly was terrified that it wouldn't get to him in time. The moment her decision was made, she had been aching to call him and pour out her heart over the phone. It was an agonizing choice; do I wait and take the chance that he won't be available, or do I tell him everything and let him talk me out of coming? She knew for a fact that Giles had no idea how she felt, and probably wouldn't believe her if she told him. Not at first, anyway. She was hoping to convince him of her sincerity when she saw him face to face.

It seemed that they put her flight at the absolute farthest point of the airport. After waiting at the check-in and again at the newly upgraded security procedures, she sprinted across the terminal and arrived at the gate just as they were calling her overseas flight. Once she was settled into her seat, she watched with nervous curiosity as the plane filled to near capacity.

A well-dressed man with a briefcase and raincoat smiled at her as he took the seat next to hers. She tried to convey her wish to be left alone, but apparently she wasn't intimidating enough.

"Hi, I'm James. I'll be sharing your armrest for the next couple thousand miles," he quipped with a winning smile, holding out his free hand.

She shook it gently and forced a smile. "Hi, James. I'm Buffy, and I'll be clutching the seat in front of me in terror for the next couple thousand miles. I don't really think I'll need the armrest. Feel free." She gestured at it with a shaking hand.

"Ah, this your first plane ride, isn't it?"

"Um... yeah." She fiddled with her bag, twisting and untwisting the strap in her hands. "Solid ground and I go way back, and I kinda feel like I'm committing adultery."

He chuckled softly, still smiling. "Boy, you picked a nice long flight for your first one. Plenty of time to get used to it."

"Plenty of time to throw up my guts," she countered doubtfully.

"I bet you'll be fine. The 777 is a smooth jet. Like silk. You won't even know you're in the air."

"The view out the window will remind me." She gave the tarmac a nervous glance. The various machines were detaching themselves from the sides of the plane, and she broke out into a light sweat.

"Don't look, then." He pointed to the window covering, making a gesture indicating it would pull down.

She experimented, closing the shade completely. "I don't know if it will help, but thanks."

"You'll be fine. I was scared to death the first time I flew, but now it's no big deal. Being scared goes away pretty quickly."

She thought about why she was making this trip, and her eyes began to blur. "I wish," she whispered.

The plane began to taxi onto the runway, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "It'll be okay," she repeated several times, trying desperately to convince herself.

James kept up a constant conversation, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she wasn't listening to a word he said. At one point she even thought he was flirting with her, but she was to unsettled to analyze it properly. Her mind was elsewhere.

********

After Willow's encouraging phone call, he consulted the train schedules and worked out a plan for checking arrivals. After dark he carried a stake, and Buffy would have been proud to know he still wore the silver cross necklace she'd given him a few years back. He was fairly sure there were no vampires in Bath, but it was foolish to take chances. The walk from his restored Georgian apartment building to the center of town was an easy one. He thought it would be harder to miss her if he was on foot.

He missed Buffy the most in the evenings. Although it was only his imagination, he felt nearer to her at night. He nearly always passed the local policemen making their rounds on his way downtown. They probably thought it strange that he would arrive downtown when most of the shops were closed and not go into one of the local pubs. Giles figured as long as he wasn't disturbing the peace, he would be left alone, and he was right. The officers did little more than nod at him as they passed each other on the street.

Giles caught himself searching the dark alleys and shadowed doorsteps of every building he passed. It was ridiculous to assume that she would already be there, but it was hard to break himself of the habit of watching over her.

If Willow was right about Buffy's surprise, then perhaps he would have that opportunity again, even if it was only for a short time. She could be there tomorrow, if Willow's guesstimate of Buffy's arrival was correct. He wanted to meet her at Heathrow, but he knew it would be impossible to find her without her flight number and time. That was the one piece of information Willow didn't have. Buffy should come to Bath on the train, since it was the most straightforward and economical way, so several times a day he strolled to the railway station and looked for her.

The thought of her coming so far to see him cheered him considerably, and he stepped off the front step of his building and headed into the twilight with a smile.

********

Soon Buffy wasn't as worried about flying as she was about getting away from her gregarious seatmate. They were over halfway through the trip and James had never stopped talking. He told her every possible detail about himself, including his messy divorce and his battle for custody of his two kids. He seemed to expect her to respond in kind, and when she didn't, he became doubly curious.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"Not when I'm thirty thousand feet above the ground in an oversized tin can."

He smiled at her grimace of discomfort as he dug into his dinner tray. He said curiously as she nursed her ginger ale, "You're not hungry? It's at least eight more hours until we get to London."

"Nervous flyer here, remember? Hungry doesn't even enter into it."

"Trying to keep your girlish figure?"

"Something like that."

As time wore on, people began to turn off their reading lights and go to sleep. Buffy wanted desperately to join them, but even when she buzzed the attendant for a pillow and blanket, James kept chattering on.

"...should have seen the look on his face! He thought I wasn't anywhere in the building, and I heard the whole thing. It's a good thing I wasn't the boss, or he'd been out on the sidewalk..."

Buffy finally held up a hand. "James, I'm really tired and sleepy right now, okay?"

"Oh, okay. No problem. I'll just watch the movie."

He settled the headphones in place and leaned back, tilting his head up to watch the screen. She had almost fallen asleep when he muttered loudly, "This movie is crap."

The movie wasn't the only thing that was crap, she thought sadly. That pretty much described her life at the moment. If this didn't work... she sighed, fighting tears, and wished for Giles and his calming presence with all her heart. Finally, despite the random interruptions, she drifted away.

********

By the third night after Willow's call, he began to get worried. Willow had said Buffy was supposed to leave LA on Thursday. It was Sunday night, and he hadn't heard a word. He refused to believe she'd met with some mishap on her way from London to Bath. It was only a hundred miles. She was a resourceful girl. Surely everything was fine.

He couldn't think of any way to check on her safety. Calling the airport or rail line would be useless, and calling Willow would only worry the girl. He finally decided to wait until Monday evening and contact the airline if he hadn't heard from her by then. Surely it didn't take three days to get from California to England!

********

Buffy dragged herself off the plane and stared at the monitor on the wall, looking for Terminal Three baggage claim information. She didn't have much, just one suitcase and her carry-on, but she wondered if she had the strength to lug them both all over England looking for her Watcher.

"Hey, seat-partner! Are you lost?" James' familiar voice broke her daze, and she forced herself to turn and smile.

"Not lost, exactly. Trying to find baggage claim."

"Follow me, then. That's where I'm going."

With her new acquaintance's help, she soon collected her bag and headed for the door. James followed. "Where are you headed? I know London pretty well. I've been here at least a dozen times."

"I'm not staying in London."

"Oh? Do you have friends here?"

She smiled at that, unaware that her face had turned wistful. "Just one. He's in Bath."

"Lucky him. Bath's a gorgeous place. He lives there?"

"Yes." The pressure of the past few months suddenly bore down on her, and a tear coursed down her cheek and splashed onto the back of her hand.

Instantly, James became solicitous. "Hey, what's wrong? Gorgeous young ladies don't usually burst into tears in my presence. Just a minute, I have a Kleenex here somewhere..."

"I'm all right," she protested.

"No, you're not. You haven't been all right the entire flight. Boyfriend trouble? Sorry, I'm being nosy... you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

It sounded so trite, but it was close enough. "More like man-friend trouble. He's in Bath, and I have to find him."

"Does he know you're coming?"

She shook her head and sniffed.

"Okay, I'm probably going to hate myself for this, but where in Bath does he live?"

"I don't know. I have his address. It's supposed to be a kind-of surprise, but I've never done this before... traveled to another country, I mean."

"This guy must be something special," he said, hiding his disappointment.

"He is," she agreed softly.

James warred with himself for a moment, debating on whether or not to involve himself when it was obvious the girl was taken. The gentleman in him won out, and he gave her a reassuring smile. "I might be able to tell you how to get there."

Her opinion of him suddenly changed. She looked up, afraid to believe in a stranger's kindness. "Thanks. I could really use the help. Can we go right now?"

"It's getting late, and you look pretty tired. Jet lag's a killer. You need to find a hotel and get a good night's sleep. Trains to Bath run all day long, so you can catch one pretty easily."

"I don't have a lot of extra cash..."

"I know some decent places, if you're not looking for luxury. And the train ride's reasonable."

"You really don't have to..."

"Hey, somebody helped me out the first time I came to London. Let's just say I'm returning the favor, okay?"

She was tired enough to agree, and James stepped to the curb to hail a cab.

********

As Giles gathered his mail the next morning, his heart almost stopped when he spotted familiar handwriting on an envelope postmarked from Sunnydale.

He hurried home and dropped the rest of his mail on the small dining room table tearing into it with shaking fingers. It was a letter from Buffy. She must have mailed it just before she left. It wasn't much, just a few lines. He cursed under his breath as he scanned it, then glared at the ceiling and growled, "Buffy, why didn't you just tell me your flight and let me meet you?"

The letter read: Giles, by the time you get this, I will probably be in London. I'll find a way to get to Bath so don't worry about me. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I was afraid you'd be gone or something. Wait for me, okay? We really need to talk. Buffy

He dropped the letter on the floor and grabbed his jacket. He couldn't bear to think of her wandering the countryside looking for him.

********

She was horribly tired and emotionally drained when she finally got to the small hotel. James gave her simple instructions for getting to the railway station, and she wrote them down carefully. The room was small, with a single bed and few amenities, but it was comfortable. She thanked her benefactor profusely, and promised to call him at his hotel if anything went wrong.

She undressed and lay down, thinking it would take her a while to get to sleep. She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow, and slept for ten hours straight. It wasn't until the maid knocked on the door that she became aware of her surroundings.

Dressing quickly, she confirmed her directions with the hotel manager and started for the train station. Heathrow had several, so she picked the one that was closest to the hotel. There was a posted schedule announcing trains in military time, so she had to figure out what time it was and when 14:02 would be. That gave her just under an hour to find something to eat, so she bought a ticket, rented a locker to store her bags, and walked to the closest cafИ. She was aware she should be starving, but was barely able to down a cup of coffee and a small sandwich. Her stomach was in knots.

At fifteen minutes till two, she was back in the station, waiting with the other passengers to board. The schedule said she'd be in Bath in less than two hours. Then it should be a simple matter to find her Watcher. The complicated part would come in when she tried to convince him to come back to the Hellmouth.

The train arrived on schedule, and she boarded without conscious thought. Inside her head, she was running scenarios between herself and the object of her trip. She tried to think of every possible response he might have, and mentally mapped out her counter-responses. She spent the entire trip arguing with the Giles inside her head.

Her arrival at her destination caught her by surprise. When the conductor made his announcement, she sat up and craned her neck to see out the window. She was on the wrong side of the train, and could only catch a glimpse of warm honey-colored stone as the train pulled up to the station. Reminding herself that shoving through a crowd was considered rude in England, she waited quietly while the train emptied and took her place in the stream of humanity pouring into Bath Spa Station.

The place was surprisingly beautiful. She expected ancient, crumbling stone facades, but instead she found warm, timeless structures with a feeling of stately permanence. She gawked like the first-time tourist she was, wandering down the main street with a bemused expression. Several men with familiar British accents offered to help her with her luggage, which made her smile even as she refused their assistance.

It wasn't long before her stomach reminded her that she'd slept through breakfast and barely eaten lunch, so she found a small storefront cafИ and accepted the waiter's recommendation. The food was good, and she found herself enjoying the cool spring air. Most of the people walking about were wearing business suits and overcoats, some of them carrying umbrellas. She surmised that the weather might be a little bit unpredictable.

It was getting late when she decided to start looking for Giles. She felt fortified and ready to face him, so she got out her scrap of paper with his address and began asking for directions. The city definitely wasn't built on the square, she realized, as she trudged up one curved street after another. Darkness fell while she was walking, and after nearly an hour, she realized she was lost.

Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. She turned around and started back for the town center, hoping to retrace her steps and find out where she'd gone wrong. She passed several familiar-looking buildings when she spotted the police station a few hundred yards away. She had almost decided to turn herself in as misplaced and ask for a map when a familiar figure crossed the street in front of the train station and started towards her.

His stride was confident, and he looked well rested and sure of himself. Her greeting caught in her throat as she watched him move towards her. The sight of him made her tear up again, but she didn't have time to cry. He was going to miss her, striding alongside the walkway while she was sitting on the steps in the dark. Finally, her voice returned and she shouted his name.

Giles froze and whirled, searching for her among the shadows. "Buffy?"

"Giles, over here!" She hopped up and waved.

"Buffy! Oh, thank God..." He was beside her in an instant. "I've been looking for you." He took a hesitant step closer, one hand raised to touch her shoulder. She gave a choking sob and threw her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to her level.

The kiss took him completely by surprise. He had an impression of strong arms surrounding his neck before his senses were bombarded by the scent and feel of her. None of his guilty fantasies prepared him for the reality of kissing this girl. Instinctively he held her to him, the soft leather of her coat warming quickly to his touch. He forgot where he was... almost forgot who he was for a moment... and made a concerted effort to kiss her back. It might be the only chance he would ever get.

It was her turn to be startled as he slanted his lips against hers and returned the kiss with fierce passion. She slid both hands into his hair and prolonged the embrace as long as she could. When she finally moved her hands away from his head and stepped back, both of them were gasping for air.

"Good Lord," he exclaimed. His voice was remarkably steady, considering that his insides were complete mush and he was badly out of breath.

"I found you," she said happily.

"I was going to say I found you. I was beginning to worry. Your letter..."

"I'm sorry I didn't give you my flight number... I was on standby so I could get the cheaper rate, and I got bumped a bunch of times, and even though I didn't mail the letter until the last minute..."

"It's all right. It doesn't matter. You're here." He pulled her to his chest again, still trying to get his mind around her kiss.

"I missed you so much," she mumbled into his chest. Her warm exhalations made his heart skip a beat.

"And I missed you."

"Bet I missed you more," she sing-songed, feeling giddy from his closeness. He didn't push her away when she kissed him, so that was a good sign.

He barked a quick laugh, turning her until his arm fell naturally across her shoulders. "Let's get your bags. We should be getting back. It's late."

"Late?" She snorted as he took her carry-on from her and indicated the direction they should go. "You've gotten soft, Giles. It's not even midnight yet, if I have my watch set right." She matched his stride easily as they set off up the sloping street.

"I've attempted to return to a diurnal lifestyle since I've been here. Bath isn't known for it's all-night bistros."

"Big words already, Giles. Take it easy on my poor brain. It's been a long trip."

"I'll try using words of one or two syllables, then," he said airily, making her giggle. They walked for a while, the silence building between them. Finally, he had to say something. "Ah... how is everything back home?"

She groaned. "Already with the questions."

"Sorry. I was just making conversation."

"No, Giles... it's okay. You deserve to know if your theory was correct." Her voice carried a hard tone of bitterness, and it hurt him to hear it. Instantly, his defenses went up.

"I did what I thought was best. I'm not infallible, or supernaturally gifted. I'm just a man."

She stopped with a frustrated growl. "But you're not just any man! You're my Watcher, my mentor, my trainer, my confidant, and-I thought-my friend. You never expected me to pretend to be something I wasn't. Even my parents don't win points for that."

"They weren't prepared. They did their best to care for you..."

"You're not my parent, but nobody has ever taken care of me like you did," she declared, holding his arm so he couldn't turn away.

"Nonsense. Your mother..."

"Didn't have a clue. You knew everything, and still you cared about me. Not Slayer me, but Buffy me. The person, not the icon. And it's only because of you that I haven't abandoned Dawn to some foster home by now. It's been close a time or two, but that's another story."

"I did what I could, but..."

"You did great. Only I didn't get it right away. Something about being all self-involved and teen-ager-y. But if you come back with me, I swear I'll pay closer attention. Maybe if I watch how you take care of me, then I can take better care of Dawn."

He smiled at her desperate expression. "Is that the best argument you have for my return? To set an example for you and Dawn?"

"I don't know. Is it working?"

He couldn't admit it out loud, but his heart was yearning for him to shout, 'Yes!' at the top of his lungs. He ducked his head and shuffled his feet nervously, unsure of what to say.

"Giles... it's not just that I need you there. You knew that before you left. And it's not just a matter of taking over the burden of being a grown-up so I don't have to, because I know you can't grow up for me. That still doesn't mean you can just disappear from my life completely!"

"I don't fit into your life any more, Buffy." He ran his free hand through his hair. "I don't think I can be what you want me to be. I'm not a substitute for your mother."

"I know that. It was a stupid comparison, saying it felt like she was here when you were around. I'm sorry. I'm not big with the literary turn of phrase. You helping me was wonderful, and I abused the privilege to the nth degree."

"You've continued to handle things without my interference..."

"Yeah, I'm starting to, not that I'm so great at it, but it'll get better. Dawn's a pain... big news, she's a teenager. It's normal. But I can't just be a normal parent figure, not with my sucky life. I have to be ten times more careful because of the Slaying and Children's Protective Services hanging around every other week. I make some rotten choices and some good ones, just like everyone else, but right now another bad one could cost me my sister. It's already cost me my best friend." Her voice shook on the last sentence.

"Buffy, Willow would never..."

"I'm talking about you, stupid!"

He almost dropped the suitcase and took her into his arms, but got hold of himself and sighed.
"We should be getting on. The middle of the street is not the place for this." He turned and started back up the hill, tension plain in his shoulders and back.

She followed him, although his longer stride made it difficult. "Hey! Don't just walk away while we're having the big discussion! That's why we're where we are now! Why you're where you are and I'm where I was until I came here!"

He threw her a look that was partly angry, partly amused at her convoluted sentence. "I know full well why I'm here. I just don't know why you're here. I was hoping that, some time before you return to California, you'd explain it to me." He turned down a side street towards a large building with a low fence and decorative gate, and headed for the side entrance.

"I'm trying to explain! I'm just not very good at it. So quit being sarcastic and listen to me until I get it right!"

He stopped just inside the gate and turned to her. "All right. Since you insist on having this out in the front garden, I'm listening." He dropped her bag on the sidewalk and folded his arms tightly across his chest. Anger flared in her eyes, but was quickly replaced with understanding. He was trying to look stern, but his body language spoke of a different emotion. This was as hard for him as it was for her. She dumped her suitcase next to the bag and faced him. She was breathing heavily from the heat of their argument rather than the exertion of their walk.

"Okay, but I hope I only have to say this once. God, you are the stubbornest man I've ever met, and that includes Spike, Riley and Angel."

His eyes narrowed. "Insults don't improve my hearing, Buffy," he snapped.

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I know. Sorry. Why can't I just say what I feel?" She looked over his shoulder, her eyes beginning to show signs of tears. "Why can't I just say I love you and I miss you and I want you back in my life and be done with it?"

Her words soaked into his agitated brain, and instantly every other thought vanished, along with his anger. What did she say? First she's berating me, then she's saying she loves me! I can't indulge in wishful thinking... she's said those words before, and it meant nothing. That kiss, though... it could be... no, don't get your hopes up, Giles. It never pays.

He was horrified to hear himself say, "Did... did you just say you loved me?"

She looked back and saw his stunned expression, and realized she'd said the words aloud. "I already told you that once, remember? Before I did the quest thing? Which, by the way, didn't work any better the second time than it did the first. Took me a long time to figure everything out. I don't usually go around laying lip locks on people I don't love, y'know." She looked horrified for a moment, then dropped her head. "At least, not now, I don't."

His expressive eyes reflected the light from the street lamp, but he didn't reply. He could only stare at her in sympathy as she regained her composure and met his gaze again. She stepped closer and placed an appealing hand on his chest.

"Please," she begged, twisting her fingers into his jacket front. "Say something, Giles. It's okay if you don't feel the same way, because I'm horrible, I've been awful to you, and I know it. Just don't... please don't hate me, okay? I couldn't stand that."

"You're not awful, and I don't hate you." His voice was soft with emotion as he reached out and touched her face with his fingertips. "I have never hated you. I couldn't."

"You have every right to. I was so cold... I'm ashamed of the way I treated you... it was nothing short of abuse." She snorted softly. "I've become something of an expert on that lately."

He continued stroking her, touching her cheek gently. "I didn't think that, and I don't now. I feared... I was holding you back, keeping you from reconnecting with your, your life and with Dawn. I've often thought I shouldn't have left. I was weak, and I was a coward."

"No, you were right about the way I was acting. I just wish you could've nailed me on it instead of leaving. Maybe you tried and I just didn't notice. I know I used you, all of you, Willow, Xander, even Tara, so I wouldn't have to deal. It wasn't until everyone was gone that I finally got it. Dawn went klepto because I wasn't there for her... see, I remember all the stupid, painful things I went through when I was Dawn's age, and I just didn't think I could do it all again, go through it all again..."

His eyebrows went up slightly, and he smiled briefly. "Buffy, I do understand. Remember, you survived with the help of the people who, who loved you. Dawn will, too, but only if she has the same support. Of necessity, that involves you, as her only family and guardian, giving her the attention she needs."

"I know... Oh, man... I have so much stuff I need to confess. I should have done all that before spilling my guts about the love stuff... I've done some ugly, gross, stupid things since you left. You may change your mind about hating me when you hear..."

"You're referring to sleeping with Spike?" he interrupted softly, his fingers still indenting her skin.

"How... who told you?" She quickly wiped away a tear with one hand, unwilling to let go of his coat, then looked down. "I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be. It doesn't matter what you've done, Buffy. You can't change that. What matters is what you're going to do now."

"Now that you know that I love you?"

"Now that you know there are people in this world who, who need you for who you are, not what you are," he corrected seriously.

"Do you need me, Giles?" she countered with equal gravity.

He moved his fingers to brush her hair away from her face. "Only to the extent th-that I need oxygen to live," he acknowledged with a weary smile. "I haven't taken a decent breath since I saw you last."

"I need you, too. I've always needed you, but for different things at different times. When I first met you, I needed your sense of duty to get me back on track. When Angel turned, I needed your compassion. When Glory came along, I needed your determination. This time I need the man who loves me and will tell me if I'm goofing up again. I need the Watcher who makes sure I'm tuned up and running on all eight cylinders so I can go fight the bad and then come home and bake cookies. Gee, that sounded lame."

He smiled again. "I didn't think so."

"I need the sweet, gentle man that once told me I had nothing but his support and respect. I need to be reminded that I'm worthy of that respect, even when I do wrong, selfish, stupid things."

He dropped his head, sad for her pain, but still fiercely proud of her for facing it. "You are. You deserve more than I could ever give you."

"I doubt it, but that does bring up another subject. It's a new chapter in the Life of Buffy: What My Friends Need."

This was uncharted territory, and she was suddenly terrified. How could she assume she knew what he needed? Still, she'd come an awfully long way not to finish what she'd started. His fingers, still gentle against her cheek, gave her the courage to continue.

"Dawn needs a mother. I can't be Mom for her, but I can try to be a better role model. I've blown it with her, Giles, so many times, by not being there. I'm doing better now, and I'm going to keep trying until I get it right. I didn't even want to leave to come here, but that was the one thing she really did understand. The missing you part, I mean. She even insisted. I guess she knows I'm not really whole without you."

"That's very sweet of you, my dear, a-and I'm glad things are better between you two. Dawn needs you so much."

"And it's not just Dawn. Willow needs her best friend. So does Xander. And there's a really special guy living on the wrong side of the ocean that needs me, too. He's not very good at telling me, so I have to get better at guessing. It's another project for me, learning to be considerate of his feelings."

"I... I, um. I'm sorry. I... I'm not good at expressing, or discussing... well, you know."

"It's okay. I'm considering it a challenge. It's easier when he's in the same country, though." She tapped his nose playfully, and he favored her with a dazzling smile. A passing car caught his attention, and he became aware of how exposed they were.

"As, um, charming as this conversation is, I'd really like to find a more private, a-and warmer, spot to continue it. Would you..." He gestured hesitantly towards his apartment building. "Um... would you like to come up? I believe I have some of-of that loathsome instant cocoa you find so appealing."

She laughed at his familiar stuttering. It felt so right. "Won't your landlady object?"

"She, she can't object to anything she doesn't know about."

Buffy inclined her head towards the ground floor window. "Trust me, Giles, she knows."

He didn't turn, but he closed his eyes as if in pain. "Ah. She's watching us, isn't she?"

"Oh, yeah. The curtains have been twitching the whole time we've been out here."

He sighed. "Oh, well, it can't be helped. Come on, then, there's nothing that can be done to salvage my reputation now."

She laughed again and feigned outrage. "What reputation, Casanova? How many girls have you had up to your apartment, anyway?"

"Counting the immediate future? One." He gave her a sweet smile. "There hasn't been anyone else for a very long time, Buffy."

What could she say to that? Her heart melted into her boots and stayed there. Other areas were getting fairly warm, too. She linked her arm with his and leaned against his shoulder. "I like it better when you're not yelling at me."

"That wasn't yelling. That was intense conversation," he said loftily, making her giggle.

Arm in arm, they went through the front door and up the narrow stairs. They both ignored the creak of the landlady's door as it closed to avoid revealing the nosy occupant. Once he was at the top of the stairs, he fished his keys out of his pocket and opened the door for her.

"It's not as spacious as my old townhouse in Sunnydale, but it's comfortable."

She preceded him into the room and gave it an evaluating gaze. The flat consisted of three medium sized rooms and a small one that must have been the bathroom. The living and dining area were combined, with a small kitchen running the length of the room. The remaining doorway led to a small bedroom. It wasn't much smaller than his old apartment in size, but it felt that way due to the low ceilings and small windows.

She liked it anyway. It felt comfortable and Giles-like.

"Cute," she quipped as she turned to face him. "Where do I put my stuff?"

His face registered surprise for a moment, and then he frowned. "There's no guest room. I, um, suppose you can put your things in-in there." He gestured to the bedroom with a nervous smile. "I wasn't planning f-for company when I moved in." She turned so he couldn't see the hurt on her face. He didn't think she would ever come to see him. He thought he would be alone from now on.

She left everything piled in the corner, blinking to clear her blurry eyes. When she returned to the living room, she came right up to him and put a hand on his chest. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you leave without getting everything straight between us. That was my fault. Actually, I shouldn't have let you leave at all, which is, again, my fault."

"It was my fault as well," he acknowledged with a rueful frown. "I wish I could have handled it better..." As he looked down at her, he couldn't help smiling wistfully, his heart in his eyes. One thought drove all others from his mind. "I... I'm so very glad you're here, Buffy," he whispered softly.

Her smile was equally as warm. "Me, too."

He didn't know what to say next. His heart was hammering away in his chest, and he felt positively light headed. She didn't seem to mind the silence, just examined his face carefully as if memorizing every feature. He wasn't even aware that he had moved, but suddenly his hand came up to hold hers flat against his chest. He ran his thumb gently across the back of her fingers, slowly. Once. Twice.

They both froze, aware of the sudden tension in the room. Their argument was still largely unsettled, their feelings prickly and covered with hurts, both real and imagined. But something was different. Touching was more than just contact this time. It was something implacable, irresistible, and immediate, and Buffy suddenly decided to stop fighting it.

"I love you, Rupert Giles, d'ya know that?" She stepped closer. With his head bowed, her nose was just inches from his. Raising up on the balls of her feet to make contact, she whispered, "Eskimo kisses." She rubbed her nose against his gently, fighting a whimper.

"Buffy..." His voice cracked on the second syllable, and she smiled. Good, she thought. At least I'm not the only one that's scared to death.

"It's gonna be okay, Giles... Rupert." She nuzzled him again, moving her face until their cheeks met. She could feel the loose hairs on her neck moving with each breath he took.

"Buffy..."

"I'm not so good at the talking, Giles. Let me try something different." Her voice was low and full of warmth, and he couldn't have moved away if his life depended on it. She pulled his head down again, and when their lips met he was jolted with the incredible feeling of being connected to the live end of a power circuit. Her lips were cool from the night air, but they warmed quickly against his. He gave a small 'oh' of acceptance as she moved one arm from his neck to his waist and pulled him tightly against her small body.

She pulled slightly away and whispered, "I guess those were American kisses."

He gave a short laugh and bent his head again, taking command of her mouth with sudden passion. She passed quickly from being stunned to being delighted, and when he teased her lips with the tip of his tongue, she moaned and opened to him. The second series of kisses lasted much longer than the first, and this time he was the one to break away with a short gasp.

"I rather think those were French in origin," he whispered, loving her answering giggle. He bent down again and lifted her easily against him, arms wrapped tightly around her slender waist. She took a more secure hold of his neck, her eager response fogging his glasses until he tore them away from his face with one hand and tossed them on the table behind them. His grip on her waist never wavered, and she finally decided that her legs needed to do something besides dangle uselessly above the ground. She wrapped both of them around his waist and settled herself into a more secure position. His grunt of pleasure caused her to giggle again.

Now that she was slightly elevated, she brushed her lips across his forehead, pulling his face against her. He moaned and began covering every available inch of skin with open-mouthed kisses. She rested her cheek on his head and closed her eyes, lost in the moment and his ardor.

He took a sudden step backwards, and Buffy made a questioning noise as he carefully sat on the small sofa. She arranged herself until she was halfway kneeling astride his lap and curled into his embrace. "Did I get too heavy?" she murmured into his neck.

"My knees were getting weak," he replied breathlessly, and she felt him smile against her cheek.

"Mine, too."

"Can we just... ah, would you mind if, if I just h-held you for a bit? I need to...um..."

"Regroup?" she offered with a grin.

"Ah, yes. That's the very word I was looking for," he agreed. She settled against him happily, listening to him breathe and enjoying the solid strength of his embrace. She felt comforted for the first time since her resurrection. It terrified her to think that this might be the last time he ever held her.

He turned his head at her quiet sniff. "Buffy?"

"It's okay," she replied quickly. "I'm just being sentimental. I haven't even left yet, and I'm already missing you."

"I'm here now, love. Let's not worry about tomorrow just yet, all right? I'm still trying to fathom today."

"There's nothing to fathom. I love you and I came over here to tell you that. Next move is yours."

"I don't want to move at the moment. I'm, I'm rather liking where I am."

"Sweet talker."

They sat, closely entangled, for perhaps fifteen minutes. Buffy didn't move her head from his shoulder, just closed her eyes and savored everything about him. He caught her in a surreptitious yawn, one of several she'd been fighting, and he chuckled softly. "You're exhausted, love. You should sleep."

"Not until we get everything settled," she mumbled stubbornly. Her tongue wasn't cooperating too well, and her words were slurred.

"One step at a time. We've settled that we're not going to fight any more tonight, which is a major achievement. Let's quit while we're ahead, all right?" He kissed her head through her disheveled hair, and she moaned grumpily.

"Do I hafta move?"

He studied her position carefully before pulling her to the side and touching her leg carefully. She let him pull her across his lap until she was sitting crossways. With her securely held in his arms, he stood effortlessly and strode into the bedroom.

"Take me to your castle, Prince Charming," she rasped in a sleep-roughened voice.

"As you wish," he intoned seriously, and sat her upright on the end of the bed. She frowned groggily.

"I'm nowhere near being in the bed," she complained.

"Have to turn back the sheets, don't I?"

"Oh. I guess."

He finished making the bed presentable and turned to offer her his arms again, only to find she'd started crawling to the head of the bed. She was buried under the covers and motionless before he could make a sarcastic comment. He sighed and watched her for a few moments, his face suffused with affection.

He turned back to the living room, but her gravelly voice stopped him. "Where ya goin'?"

"Shh. I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"No... hun-uh. Cold. C'mere." She lifted the bedclothes, not even looking at him. "An' lose the tweed. It itches."

He grunted in amusement, and then complied with her wishes. He slid in behind her in his T-shirt and shorts, fighting a sigh as her body warmth engulfed him. He tucked the covers around them more securely and slid his arm under her neck. She immediately turned into his embrace and pillowed her head on his shoulder. One arm slid across his chest and rested around his waist. At the feel of silk at his waistline, she opened one eye.

"Silk boxers?" she commented, sounding surprised.

"You did say 'lose the tweed'," he retorted.

"Oh, yeah. Nice." She was fully asleep in minutes. The moment she'd kissed him the second time, he knew he was irrevocably hers and would follow her anywhere she asked. He tried to feel resentful about it, but he couldn't. Instead, he fought to savor the feeling of his one true love sleeping against his chest until the last possible moment before joining her in peaceful oblivion.

The end