Her mother has passed away, and Glory was on the hunt for her little sister. The Slayer was at the end of her rope, and she didn’t know how much more she could take before she would be unable to cope. It didn’t help the fact that the Council had informed her that Glory was not just an ordinary demon foe, but a god. And then, there was that small fact that Spike seemed to be obsessed with her. Nothing was going right in her life, not that it ever had. But now things seemed to be worse than ever.

After circling the cemetery and finding nothing, Buffy decided to head back to Giles’s condo. He was watching Dawn for the night while she patrolled. Buffy didn’t like to leave her alone, and neither of them really wanted to be alone in their house on Revello Drive. The place seemed so empty now without their mother. Giles’s place and the Magic Box seemed much more like home now.

His porch light shone like a welcoming beacon, and Buffy let herself into the unlocked apartment. Dawn was asleep on the couch, and Giles was sitting in his corner chair, a book in his lap. He too had fallen asleep, and Buffy studied his composed form while she had the chance. She quietly closed the door behind her so as not to disturb either one of them, never taking her eyes off of her Watcher. He didn’t sleep much these days either, what with the researching of Glory and Dawn’s keyness, as well as being Buffy’s rock with the death of her mother. She didn’t know what she would have done without Giles. She needed him now more than ever. She studied him as he slept. The worry lines in his forehead were still as present as ever, and his jaw seemed clenched. The book rested in his lap, and he still had his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. Her heart constricted a bit as she gazed on his tense body, stressed and worried even in sleep. She knew how that felt, however, and she wished more than anything to take all that away from him, to let him rest in peace and security. She’d take it all upon herself if she could, and ease her Watcher’s burdens. After all, that weight upon his shoulders was all due because of her. And with the death of her mother, the weight of supporting her and Dawn had become heavier. Buffy thought she needed to find another solution when it came to protecting Dawn, but she had no idea what else to do. They were all stretched wearily thin.

Buffy finally approached her Watcher, and carefully removed the book from his lap. Even this small movement awakened him, however. He startled a bit in the chair, noiselessly, and smiled softly when he saw her. “Buffy. Everything go well on patrol?” His voice was in quiet tones so as not to wake Dawn.

She nodded and sat beside his chair on the floor, cushioning her back against the sofa by her sister’s feet. “Peachy. No one came out to play, which was fine by me.” She yawned, just throwing her hand up to cover her mouth at the last second. Giles again smiled. “You should get some rest. Shall we wake Dawn and drive you home?”

Buffy glanced at her sister, her face softening. “Would it be okay if we stay here tonight? I really don’t want to wake her.”

Giles frowned, not because of her request, but because he knew the pain she was in. He completely understood why she wouldn’t want to go back to her house. “Of course, Buffy. You can take my room, if you’d like. Just let me change first.”

Usually Buffy slept on the sofa when she came in late from patrol, or when she had been injured and didn’t want her mother to see her like that. Giles would tend to her, and then she’d crash on his sofa. But tonight Dawn was in her usual spot, and Giles only had the one bedroom in the loft. She hadn’t thought of that when she made the request. “Oh, no Giles. That’s okay. I can’t take your bed. I’ll just sleep here on the floor. It’ll be fine.”

“Of course you won’t sleep on the floor.” His voice had risen an octave and Dawn groaned on the couch, burrowing into the cushions. Giles looked sheepishly at his slayer. “Sorry.” He quietly muttered.

“Just get me some blankets and a spare pillow, if you have one, and I’ll be quite comfy on the floor here, Giles. I swear. It’s fine. Okay? And I’m wearing Willow’s resolve face now so don’t even try to argue with me anymore.”

Giles knew better than to try and change Buffy’s mind once she had it made up, so he grudgingly did her bidding. He pulled some blankets out of his upstairs closet, and grabbed one of his own pillows off his bed. He also grabbed his old sleeping bag and he and Buffy made a mattress pad out of it on the living room floor. All in all, it seemed quite comfortable. Buffy took dibs on the bathroom first, and changed into some sweats and a t-shirt. She always kept a change of clothes at his place. Demon slayage had ruined many outfits in her time, so she was always prepared before returning home to face her mom and sister. It was bad enough that they knew what she did, but for them to see visual signs of the violence was quite another matter. Soon Buffy was tucked into the blankets on the sleeping bag, and her head rested on the pillow. She breathed in Giles’s scent from the pillow case. Her heart did a little flip flop as the husky aroma and spicy scents filled her nostrils. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, with thoughts of his comforting presence floating in her mind.

Giles, on the other hand, was now wide awake. He lay on his bed with the side table lamp on, and he wrote in his journal. Once he was finished recording the fact that tonight’s patrol was an uneventful one, he closed the diary and locked it in the drawer beneath the reading lamp’s table. He turned off the light, threw the blankets over his body, and crossed his arms beneath his head to stare at the ceiling and contemplate his life.

It was getting more difficult for Giles to keep his feelings hidden from Buffy. He was more proud of her than ever. She had re-focused all of her energies back into her training after the conflict with Dracula, and Giles’s duty as her Watcher had been fulfilling to him once again. After the latest Watcher’s Council debacle, he now was her re-instated Watcher professionally as well. As far as that avenue of their relationship went, things were never better between the two. It was he and he alone that Buffy had confided in about Dawn being the key. The trust between them was never stronger nor their friendship deeper than it was right now. He knew he should sleep with a light heart at night because of these revelations, but that wasn’t the case. Because he wanted more.

He wasn’t sure when things had changed. One day, he saw her, and his feelings were different. He had always loved her, and cherished her, and would protect her with his dying breath. But now, when he thought about holding her, it wasn’t just for her protection. It was because he wanted to worship her body with his own. He loved her totally and completely as a man, and not just as her mentor. Her life gave his meaning and purpose, and she completed him like no other ever had before.

He now knew that was why he had been so adrift last year. He wasn’t actively her Watcher, and that was part of it. He had tried to find himself by looking into his past, taking up again with Olivia, whom he didn’t have any feelings for deeper than friendship…he was lonely, and she had come for a visit. It was easy for him to fall back into that old pattern with Olivia. She hadn’t expected more than that from him either, so it had been a mutual pairing to fight off loneliness. And his loneliness had stemmed from Buffy’s absence. When Buffy had scoffed at him then, and had turned away from him, he was lost. He tried to fight it. He knew that she needed to be able to stand on her own. But it had hurt him terribly. He was preparing to turn tail and flee back to England to escape his love for her when Buffy had been frightened by her battle with Dracula, and had asked him to be her Watcher again. He could never deny her anything, and truth was, he wanted to be needed by her. So he had stayed, never revealing to her that he had been planning to run. He was so thankful to Buffy for coming to him then. He couldn’t imagine his life if he had returned to England. Sunnydale was his home now. His home was wherever she was. Even knowing she didn’t return his love for him, at least he could see her every day, hear her voice, her laughter, and help her in any way she needed. His life was for hers, and that was just the way he liked it. That was enough. At least that’s what he told his aching heart.

Eventually Giles drifted off into sleep. Only in his dreams could he love her like he wanted and be loved by her in return. She comes up the stairs, meeting his waiting gaze as he lay on his back in the bed, his arms still folded beneath his head. She smiles at him, bends down, and presses her soft lips against his. He returns the kiss ardently, reaching up to cup her head and pull her down on top of him. She giggles and pulls out of the kiss only to sit back astride him now, throwing her tank top off onto the floor. He reaches out and cups her breasts. They fit within his palms perfectly. He rubs and squeezes the hard nipples, causing Buffy to arch and throw her head back, moaning softly. He is so hard now, and her movements as she sits upon him almost causes him to come too soon. “Buffy.” He moans, arching himself up into her. He releases her breasts, flips her on to her back, and she lets him with a smile. He kisses her thoroughly, and removes her panties quickly. He wants to love her slowly and gently, but he has wanted this moment for so long that he is about to burst. She pulls him into her, and they both moan at his penetration. They both lie still for a moment so she can get used to him filling her. Then he begins to move, slowly at first, but as she arches into him, and scrapes his back with her fingernails driving him on, shouting his name, he can’t help but thrust with all his might, crashing into her, pulling out, and again slamming into her, until they both explode in release. Their nerves sing, their blood pounds, and each breath and heartbeat is an expression of their love for one another. They hold each other tightly as their breathing slows and they come down, cushioned in each other’s love.

“I love you.” He whispers into her ear. It is then that he rolls over, and realizes that she is not there, in his bed, and it had all been another dream. He crushes the pillow to his chest, his eyes burning with tears that will not come. He won’t let them. Giles thinks he is just a stupid old man, and his anger and frustration with himself prevents anymore sleep the rest of the night. His love sleeps in another room, oblivious to his feelings, and if he rationalizes it, he believes that is for the best.

But it hurts him.

* * *

Buffy was awakened by the sound of her sister laughing at the kitchen counter. She glanced at the clock and was dismayed to see it was just seven in the morning. She groaned as she heard Dawn yell, “She has arisen!” Buffy sat up, rubbing her eyes, and then glared at her sister. But her look softened as she saw Giles standing at the counter with a plate full of pancakes. “Breakfast, Buffy?”

She didn’t have to be asked twice. It took her mere seconds to pull up a bar stool and join her sister. “Wow, Giles, you went all out!” Sitting on the bar counter sat platters of pancakes, link sausages, scrambled eggs, toast with raspberry jam, tea, and orange juice. Buffy hardly knew where to begin, but she needn’t have worried because Giles took the spatula and placed two huge pancakes on her plate.

“You need your strength, Buffy.”

“Yeah, like they say, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Dawn mumbled in between bites of egg.

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister. “They also say to not talk with your mouth opened!” Buffy smiled at her Watcher, and shoveled in a mouthful of pancakes.

“They’re just as good as mom’s, don’t you think?” Dawn blurted out. Giles glanced at Buffy and saw the look on her face. He frowned when she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She slowly chewed and swallowed in the silence that followed. Dawn felt like kicking herself. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I’m…I’m sorry.”

Buffy set her fork down and sighed. “It’s okay, Dawn. I know what you mean.” She finally smiled again, but it was a bit dimmer than earlier. Only then did she meet her Watcher’s eyes. “It’s nice to have you take care of us, Giles. Just like mom used to do.”

Giles knew she meant it as a compliment, but it cut him. He wasn’t her father, and didn’t want to be. But he knew he could never show her how he really felt. He’d lose her forever then. So he stood and began to gather the dishes instead, smiling falsely and nodding at her.

Buffy was confused by his reaction. It wasn’t what she expected. She had wanted to please him, and let him know how thankful she was for his care and support. She opened her mouth to ask him what she had said wrong, but was interrupted by the shrill ringing of Giles’s old-fashioned phone.

“Hello?” Giles listened, occasionally nodding and attempting to speak, but it was quite obvious that the other voice on the phone didn’t give him a chance. Buffy and Dawn remained quiet, finishing their breakfast and helping clean up the table. Finally, at Giles’s exasperated sigh, the sisters looked at each other and they both mouthed, “Anya” at the same time, then burst into giggles as they heard Giles say, “Yes, Anya, I understand. Anya…Anya...Anya! I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and muttered under his breath.

“Troubles at work?” Buffy asked as she wiped off the counter.

“A new shipment came in this morning, and apparently some of the idols are broken, and the shipping invoice is incorrect, and possibly other travesties have taken place but I tuned out after that.” Buffy smiled warmly at him, and his mood improved immensely when he saw it. God, he loved her. She held up her hand to him and passed him the towel. His fingers grazed hers as he took the towel.

Yes, he wanted more. He turned away from her and began to scrub the sink, flustered. Buffy noticed his discomfort and placed a comforting hand on his back. “Giles? Are you okay? Is there something wrong?”

“Buffy, come on! I’m going to be late to school.”

Buffy frowned at her sister. “Since when are you in a big hurry to get to school?”

“Buffy!” Giles turned, admonishing her, but a small grin played upon his lips. Buffy shrugged but still looked indignantly at her younger sister.

Dawn blushed, but started through the front door. “Since I met Mark!” She yelled as she ran outside.

“Oh great, a boy. Just what we all need right now, is for Dawn to have a crush.” Buffy slowly followed Dawn out the door, but turned to Giles on her way out. Her eyes met his again. “I’ll stop by after patrol tonight, and we’ll talk, okay?” He nodded at her. “I’ll be here.” He knew that by then Buffy would have forgotten or shrugged off his mood, and it would be business as usual.

The day progressed just as any other day. Giles was stuck in the back of the Magic Box trying to sort out the inventory, and he seemed to be constantly on the phone with the warehouse to resolve the problems with that morning’s shipment. And, as par for the course, the shop was excessively busy that afternoon so Anya was swamped out front with customers. Willow and Tara and Buffy attended their college courses. Buffy was debating quitting school because of Glory and everything else, but so far she had not yet made that decision. It was still floating around in the back of her mind, however. What was the point of school for her anyway, she thought? There was always going to be evil, and she would always have to slay it. But she tried to hold onto some kind of normalness in her life, and school was a part of that.

Eventually the sun began to set, and after feeding Dawn a quick supper and dropping her off with Willow and Tara for a Friday night movie night, Buffy changed into some dark clothes and headed out on patrol.

Buffy stalked through several cemeteries before the first vamp attacked. It sprung out at her from behind a headstone, but she felt it coming and easily ducked left and avoided it’s fangs. She kicked up at the same time with both feet, connecting with it’s stomach, hurtling it across several gravestones. “Are you having a kickin’ good time? Because I know I am!” She skipped over to where the fallen vamp lay and in one swift motion plunged a stake into it’s heart. Dust exploded, and Buffy sneezed. “Ack, I hate when that happens.”

Clap. Clap. Clap. “Well done!”

Buffy finished sneezing, and turned to find her audience, hidden in the shadows of the tombstones.

Glory sat upon a throne statuette, dressed to the nines in a red evening dress and red pumps. Her leg was crossed over her knee, a smug look on her face as she applauded.

Buffy straightened up, and her eyes roamed the landscape to see if any of Glory’s minions were hiding in ambush. She only saw shadows in the moonlight. “Trying to learn something, Glory? Getting some pointers from watching me in action?” Buffy’s nerves were on edge, and she was frightened to be in the god’s presence, but she would never let her lack of confidence show. Never.

Glory smiled and hopped down from her perch. “I’m looking for my key, and I know you know something of it’s whereabouts. And as far as pointers go, well, I’ve lived more lifetimes than dust particles clinging to your clothes, honey.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. “Sounds like a personal problem to me. Maybe you should call a locksmith.”

Glory strutted up the lawn as if on a catwalk and stood before Buffy, hands on her hips. “You know, I’m getting tired of playing nice with you.”

“Then why don’t you just leave? Don’t let me keep you.” Buffy spun on her heels, turning her back on Glory. That was her first, and last, mistake. Glory grabbed her from behind, picked Buffy up as if she was a sack of potatoes, and threw her across the graveyard. The back of Buffy’s head collided with a stone cross, knocking her unconscious. Blood began to seep into the ground from beneath her head, as she lay sprawled on her side. Glory sauntered up, ran her fingertip across the top of the cross, and it came away coated in Buffy’s blood. Glory smiled, applied one swift kick to the Slayer’s side, and then moseyed on out of the cemetery.

Awhile later, the ringing of the phone woke Giles. He had fallen asleep at his desk while reading Council correspondence regarding Glory. He didn’t know why he bothered. They never really helped. He yawned and snatched the phone off of it’s hook, expecting to hear Buffy’s voice. “Hello?”

“Giles? Is Buffy there with you?” It was Willow’s worried voice. Giles sat up straighter in his chair, now fully alert. Ice began forming in his veins. “Willow? No, she’s not.” He glanced at his watch, which now read a quarter past three in the morning. Buffy should have returned from patrol by now. “She’s not there? You haven’t heard from her?”

He barely heard Willow answer in the negative before he slammed the phone down, grabbed a crossbow from his weapons chest, threw on his brown leather jacket, and left his condo at a dead run.

In the third cemetery Giles saw someone crouching down before a stone cross. As he crept closer, he noticed it was Spike. The bleached vampire was hunched down over Buffy’s fallen form, and appeared to be in vamp face. To Giles’s eye, it looked as if he was about to bite Buffy, or already had. Giles screamed, enraged, and ran straight at Spike. Spike noticed the Watcher coming at him at the last moment, and barely got an arm up to defend himself. “Bloody Hell, Rupes!”

But Giles was in full Ripper mode ready to defend Buffy‘s fallen form with every inch of his own life. After slamming into the vampire and knocking him to the ground, Giles kicked him in the gut and held the crossbow aimed low at his heart. “What have you done to her?!”

Spike’s brain finally made the connection to what Giles must have perceived, and he waved his arms madly in front of his chest in a vain attempt to protect himself. “Not me, nope, not me. I found her like that. Please, Giles…you must know I’d never hurt her. And, Chip!! I couldn’t even if I wanted to! Which I don‘t. Want to that is. Hurt Buffy.”

Giles paused, and realized what Spike was saying. Then he threw the crossbow down at his feet and rushed over to where Buffy’s body had fallen. “Buffy? Buffy?” He was almost afraid to touch her. But he could see she was still breathing, and when he held her wrist he felt a pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

“I think her head hit up there.” Spike now stood behind Giles, and he pointed up at the top of the cross. Blonde hairs and blood covered it’s top.

“I have to get her out of here.” Giles hastily removed his jacket and wrapped his slayer in it, carefully lifting her to his chest. He picked her up gingerly, cradling her to him.

“I’ll find out what I can.” Spike said, his concern showing on his face. Giles nodded, and then left the graveyard with Buffy in his arms.

Giles carried Buffy in his arms all the way to his apartment. She did not stir even once, her breathing was shallow, and her pulse weak. Giles held back his tears, refusing to believe that she wouldn’t be alright in the end. When he reached his front door, Willow and Tara and Dawn were already there, greeting him. They had been watching through the curtains, pacing back and forth, and at Dawn’s squeal they all rushed to open the door. “Buffy!” Dawn cried. Willow and Tara helped Giles struggle into the room. He went straight over to the sofa and laid Buffy down gently, brushing back her hair.

“Giles, what happened? Is she going to be okay?” Willow knelt beside the sofa staring into Buffy’s pale face as she asked.

Before he answered, Giles rushed off to his bathroom to grab his industrial strength first aid kit. He pressed himself between the girls and gently began to wash the blood away from Buffy’s face and neck. He eased her head up to peer at the gash in the back of her head.

“She will be okay. She must.” Giles swallowed the lump in his throat as he answered. “I found her in a cemetery. She was lying on the ground at the base of a stone cross. Spike was there.” He said that with contempt and a jeer.

“Spike?” Dawn looked at Giles, and then her sister. Then she got a bit angry. “Spike wouldn’t do that!”

Giles nodded. “No, he didn’t. But at first I thought…” Giles gently laid Buffy back against the pillows, having dressed her wound. “Buffy must have been thrown against the cross.

The back of her head hit the top.”

“Should we take her to the hospital, Mr. Giles?” Tara asked in her slow and gentle voice.

Just then, Buffy groaned, and struggled to sit up, but her face got even paler, she grabbed her head, and sank back into the pillows. “No hospital,” she whimpered.

“I’ll get some aspirin and a glass of water.” Tara dashed off to the kitchen.

“Buffy? Are you okay?” Dawn cried. Giles rolled his eyes at the ceiling, asking for patience. He wanted to tell Dawn, “Does she look okay?” But of course he didn’t. He just wanted them all to go away, so that he could care for Buffy, and make sure she truly was okay.

Buffy didn’t answer right away, gasping and holding her eyes tightly shut. “What happened? Who did this?” Giles asked, ready to pound whoever it was into oblivion.

Tara returned with the glass of water and aspirin. “Here, Buffy. This might help with the headache you must have.”

Buffy cracked open an eye, and then Giles helped her up a bit. He held the glass for her while she took the aspirin, and then slowly laid her back down again.

She hissed as pain lanced through her head, but then she quieted and slowly opened her eyes and saw the concerned looks from her friends. “Thanks,” she said to Tara. Tara smiled softly, nodding her head in her shy way.

Giles was still kneeling before her, his hands resting on her shoulders. She looked into his eyes and saw all his concern there, and anger, and fear. It touched her. At that moment, however, a wave of nausea hit her again. She sucked in her breath and closed her eyes.

“Maybe you should go to the hospital, Buffy.” Willow said. Tara grasped her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it affectionately.

“No, please. I just want to stay here.” Hospitals reminded her of her mother. They couldn’t help her. “I’ll be fine, I think. I just need to rest.”

Giles’s front door burst open, startling them all. Buffy cried out as she had jumped in surprise, grabbing her head. Giles glared at Xander and Anya as they entered, and then tried to soothe his slayer, murmuring to her in quiet tones and rubbing her temples lightly. Buffy relaxed under his touch.

“Buffster, you okay?” Xander turned to Willow and Tara. “We just got your phone message and came right over.”

“Yes, we were having sex before and ignored the phone.” Anya quipped. Xander blushed and pushed further into the room, as Anya closed the door.

Buffy slowly opened her eyes and looked at Giles’s concerned face. “Giles? Can you take me upstairs? It’s so loud and bright here. I think it’d be better…” Without another word, Giles carefully lifted her up into his arms, and he carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. He gently laid her down on his bed, fluffing the pillow up beneath her head. “Better?” he asked, with a gentle smile.

“Much, thanks.” Buffy mumbled. As Giles tried to stand, Buffy grabbed his hand and pulled him down so he had to crouch next to the bed. “Giles? It was Glory.”

Giles snatched his glasses off of his face and began to polish them.

“I don’t think I can beat her, Giles. She’s too strong.”

He shoved his glasses back on his face, and took one of her hands in his two strong ones. “You will, Buffy. We just haven’t found her weakness yet. But we will.”

Buffy nodded, but she didn’t really believe him. He hadn’t been there tonight in that cemetery as Glory swatted her around like some measly little fly. He didn’t know. Instead, she closed her eyes, shuddered for a moment, and then slept. Giles stayed like that with her for sometime, holding her hand in his, watching over her as she slept. Then he remembered the rest of their friends and her sister remained downstairs. He released her hand, gently caressed it, and then slowly stood and made his way downstairs.

All eyes turned to him. He went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. “Tea?”

They all nodded as they sat around his living room. He didn’t really want the company just then, but he didn’t have the heart to throw them out either.

“I think I need to get beat up or something.” Anya whispered to Xander. He looked at her, perplexed. “What? Why?”

“Did you see the way Giles was looking at Buffy? If I get hurt, you can play doctor with me, and look at me that way. And give me a massage, or a bath…endless possibilities with me being weak and ill.”

Xander looked at her dumbfounded for a moment. “Xander?” Giles stood before him, holding up a cup of tea. “Tea?”

Xander shook himself, and then grinned sheepishly at Giles. “Tea, great. Thanks.” He then took a giant swallow of the tea, burning himself in the process. “OH, HOT!” He jumped up and ran for the kitchen to get a cold drink of water. Giles and the others just gaped at him, as Anya grinned.

“Did she tell you what happened?” Willow asked Giles as he sank into his lounge chair.

He nodded gravely. “Yes. It was Glory.”

The room fell into silence. Xander returned from the kitchen and sat down next to Anya, never taking his eyes off of the watcher.

“Was she looking for me?” Dawn asked, setting her tea down on the side table, no longer wanting it’s comforting warmth. Tara threw her arm around the young girl’s shoulders. “It’s not your fault, Dawnie.”

“Tara’s right, Dawn. It’s not your fault.” Giles took a sip of his tea, weary and worn out. He held the cup in both of his big hands. “Buffy didn’t say what brought the confrontation on. But we need to step up the research and find Glory’s weakness.”

Willow stood up, mindful how tired Giles looked, and resolved to find a clue that would help Buffy. She reached down to help Dawn up as well. “Yes, we need to hit the books. Dawn can come stay with us. We have the barrier spells up, so she should be safe.”

“Yes good idea, Willow. We should all leave now. And I’d like to have more sex with Xander playing doctor.” Anya stood and made her way towards the door, oblivious of the gapes and stares from the others. Xander sheepishly waved and followed Anya out the door, with the three girls leaving shortly behind him.

Giles gathered up the cups and washed them in the kitchen sink. Then he went upstairs to check on Buffy. She still slept, and her bandages didn’t appear to need changing. The bleeding must have ceased, so that was good. He pulled up a chair close to the side of the bed. He had meant to just sit and watch over her for awhile, but he ended up falling asleep instead, his hand resting on hers.

A few hours later Buffy began to moan in her sleep, and thrash back and forth. Obviously she was having a nightmare. Giles immediately awakened and tried to calm her. Finally she came out of it, awake, and saw his concerned face. “You had a bad nightmare, Buffy, but you are safe.”

Buffy groaned, and he helped her drink a glass of water that sat on his bedside table. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

She nodded, the room swimming a bit, and the pain from the gash on her scalp still stung. “Just Glory making her way with me, and taking Dawn.” Hopefully it wasn’t one of her prophetic dreams, she thought.

Giles fluffed her pillow, and refilled the water pitcher. In general, he fussed over her like she hadn’t been fussed over since the death of her mother. She quite liked it.

For his part, Giles was concerned. Buffy’s dreams troubled him, and she didn’t seem to be healing as quick as she usually did. He sat in his chair wide awake, watching her as she slept, her breathing now slow and steady. He brushed a lock of her hair off of her forehead. “My Buffy,” he whispered to the sleeping slayer. Those two words spoke volumes of what he felt for her. He loved her so much. He wanted her safe. Hell, he just wanted her.

Buffy heard the two whispered words, and they melted her heart. Her brain was too fuzzy to truly process their meaning at that moment, however, and she fell back into sleep with his voice echoing in her mind.

The morning sunlight streamed onto his bed to greet Buffy when she opened her eyes. Giles was still asleep in the chair, his hands clasped in his lap, and his long legs sprawled out before him. Buffy didn’t think he looked comfortable at all, and it crossed her mind that he should have joined her on the bed.

She stretched in the bed, her body a bit stiff but otherwise intact. She took her right hand and felt the back of her head. The gash was all but gone. She couldn’t feel a trace. It wasn’t even tender. She smiled at that. One of the perks of being a slayer was quick healing. She did enjoy that.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Giles was beginning to wake up. She quickly scrunched back down into the bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t know what possessed her, but suddenly she found herself pretending that she wasn’t a hundred percent recovered. She tried to fight the thought that she just wanted more of Giles’s tenderness and concern, and his hand in hers.

Giles cracked open an eyeball and groaned. Every muscle was tied in a knot, he feared. He glanced over and saw that Buffy was still asleep, so he tried to stretch his limbs as quietly as possible, but it was a chore. As his arms flailed out, he accidentally bumped the water pitcher on the table causing it to spill down onto the floor. “Bloody Hell,” he hissed. Buffy suppressed her laughter as best she could, the sound coming out as a groan instead.

“Oh, Buffy, I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” He sat down again in the chair, leaving the mess until after he made sure she was okay.

“It’s okay.” She said quietly, putting as much angst into her tone as possible.

“How are you feeling this morning?” He crept closer to inspect her, reaching carefully behind her head to peer at the wound. “It looks like it’s healing nicely.”

“Does it? I guess that’s good.” Buffy weakly laid back against the pillow when he was done with his inspection.

Giles frowned. “Are you still not feeling well?”

Buffy sighed. How long could she keep this up? She looked into his eyes and her heart flip flopped at the concern she saw there. She took her hand and patted the top of his that rested on the bed. “I’ll be okay. Just tired still, I guess.”

“Perhaps we should have taken you to the hospital and had you checked over after all.” His frown deepened, but he turned his hand so he could clasp her fingers in his. Buffy’s heart rate sped up a bit at that, and she smiled. “No, I’ll be fine. Really. I just need to rest some more. It’s okay if I stay here, right?”

“Of course it is!” He reluctantly let go of her hand and bent down, gathering up the fallen pitcher and dabbing at the wet floor with a handkerchief. Once he was satisfied with the clean up, he stood up and looked carefully at Buffy once again. “I’ll make us some tea. You rest as long as you need.” He gave her one last smile and made his way downstairs to put the kettle on.

Buffy watched him go, then she burrowed into the covers. She inhaled his spicy scent on their folds. She wondered how he slept. In pajamas? Boxers? Nothing? She blushed at that thought, and a wicked grin turned the corner of her mouth upwards.

Just when she was perfectly content under the blankets, the pressure on her bladder made itself known. She let out a frustrated sigh and then threw the covers off and jumped up to make her way to Giles’s master bathroom. She bounded into the bathroom and quickly shut the door. She didn’t even notice that her Watcher was at the top of the stairs with his tea tray held high in his hands. His eyes grew wide as he saw her in perfect form, full of energy, leaping from the bed and into the bathroom.

“What’s going on here?” he murmured, and set the tray down on the side table. He sat in the chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and put on his best glare facing the bathroom door. Seconds later he heard the flush of the toilet, and his slayer opened up the door, and froze.

“Buffy?” He said in that quiet way when he was upset or annoyed. “Feeling better?”

Buffy looked at him sheepishly, and then she smiled, making her way to the bed. “Yes. It’s just amazing, but now I feel much more like my usual self.” She sat on the bed facing him.

“What’s really going on here, Buffy?”

She looked perplexed. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t say anything. He just glared until she melted beneath it’s Ripper force. She shrugged. “I’m sorry, Giles. I guess I just liked all the attention you were giving me.”

He looked confused for a moment, uncrossed his arms, and removed his glasses for their ritual polishing. “I don’t quite understand. You are always my first concern, Buffy.”

“I know, but…” She flounced down on the bed, lying on her stomach and swinging her legs up behind her. “I don’t know if I can explain it.”

He replaced the glasses and looked at her sternly. “Do try. I don’t appreciate being made a fool of.”

She sat up sharply at that. “Oh, Giles. I didn’t, you weren’t…I mean…I just liked being taken care of, okay? Ever since mom died, I have to be so strong. I have to take care of Dawn, and protect her from Glory, and I just wanted someone to take care of me for awhile.” She paused and then met his gaze. “That’s not exactly right, Giles. I don’t want just anyone to take care of me. I want you to take care of me.”

Giles didn’t know what to say, or how to take that. Again, he felt as if she was putting him in the position of being a parent to her. That was not what he wanted. He nodded at her gravely, stood, gathered up the tea tray, and turned to leave the room without a word.

“Wait!” Buffy shouted. “Please, Giles, don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He turned, but didn’t approach. “I’m not mad, Buffy.”

“Yes you are. You have glare face, and mad stance, and silence never bodes well.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Bodes?”

She snickered at that. “Yes, bodes. That’s my Giles word for the day.”

Her smile lit the room, and it was that look that he could never deny. He came closer and sat the tray down on the table. “Buffy, you never have to pretend with me. You just have to tell me what you need, and I’ll take care of it. But if you don’t communicate with me, I won’t know what you need. I’m your partner in this calling, and I’m your friend. But lies can tear everything we’ve built between us apart.”

Buffy scooted up to sit on the edge of the bed, her knees resting by his as he stood, looking down at her. “I truly am sorry, Giles, and nothing like that will ever happen again. No more lies, ever.”

He thought of his own lies as he looked at her. The lies he told himself everyday, and the lies he kept from her. Could he remain at arms length for always, or would his desire for her consume him so much that he’d eventually have to leave? He didn’t know, and that tore his heart.

It was with a heavy soul and burdened mind that the research into Glory continued. But it was with a broken spirit that buried his beloved Buffy months later. And the lies, he had kept.