Brooks seemed ancient. Buffy had no idea how old the man was, but he looked like he should be sitting at a table playing chess in a retirement center instead of leading them into the African jungle. She gave Giles a sideways look as the man showed them to their various guest rooms. Xander and Giles would be sharing, but Buffy got a nice room to herself with her own bathroom. She had to smile then. At least the old guy had taste. The room was sparse, with only a bed, side table with a lamp, and a dresser, but it would do. Besides, Buffy figured they wouldn’t be staying there but over night.

Giles and Brooks were going to be up late making plans for their journey. Buffy and Xander were invited to participate, but they looked at each other and both vigorously shook their heads. “I’m food guy, and we’ve eaten,” Xander said. Buffy cracked a smile and nodded at her Watcher. “I’m the ‘plan on the fly’ girl. You two guys go ahead. I’m going to get some sleep.” Giles just shook his head, exasperated, but he couldn’t hide a smile. For one moment they were back in the library, and it felt nice. Brooks watched this display with amusement and then led Giles down the hall.

Xander flopped down onto Buffy’s bed. She frowned at him for a moment before moving to open her bag that she placed on top of the dresser. She found her flannel pajamas in the bottom of the suitcase and pulled them out. Instead of going into the bathroom to change, however, she sunk down onto the edge of the bed next to Xander.

“I think she is okay, Xander. If she wasn’t, I would feel it, you know?” She placed her hand on top of his and squeezed it lightly. “I promise you, with everything that I am, that we’ll get her home safe and sound.”

Xander’s face was bleak and pale. He nodded, and then leaned against her shoulder. Soon his tears were flowing and he crumpled against her. Buffy held him, rocking him and soothing him with her soft voice. He had lost so much in his life. They all had. There was no way they were losing Willow.

Out in the sitting room Brooks and Giles were sharing a bottle of Glenlivet. A map was lying open on the table in front of them. It was a well worn map, yellowed in color, corners turned up, and very wrinkled. It was well used, and Giles worried about how accurate it would be after all these years.

“I assure you, Rupert, this map has gotten me in and out of many fixes.” Brooks threw back another drink and wiped his mouth with his arm. To say that Giles was having reservations was an understatement. Brooks had come highly recommended, however. Giles remembered a much younger Brooks, but then he himself had been a much younger man then too. Younger and naïve and hopeful. A hard life had changed them both.

“We will want to start out before first light and get as far as we can before the heat of the afternoon. Avoiding heat exhaustion will be of utmost importance so I suggest we don’t travel during the noon time. Early mornings and later afternoons and evenings would be best.” Brooks was tracing with his finger on the map the route they should take.

“Night traveling is not an option?” Giles had heard that the vampires in these parts were sparse.

Brooks shook his head. “It’s not the vampires and demons we need to worry about here in Africa, Rupert. The animals come out at night. That’s when they feed and hunt. Even they are too intelligent to be out and about at high noon.”

Brooks studied Giles for a minute. “Are you sure this is not a fool’s errand, Rupert? The odds she is still alive are slim to none.”

Giles looked up from the map and glared at Brooks. “She’s alive. You don’t know this woman. She’s an extraordinary woman as well as a gifted Wicca. I’m certain she is alive. I‘ve the feeling they want something from her. She‘s powerful, and they know it.”

Brooks quirked his eyebrow at the Watcher. “And here I thought it was the Slayer you were bothered over.”

Giles glare sharpened in his fury. He stood up quickly, pushing back his chair. “We leave at first light, as you suggest.” Without glancing back Giles stomped off to the room he’d be sharing with Xander.

Amused, Brooks finished off his glass of Scotch and then folded up the map. He had a feeling this was going to turn out to be an interesting journey.

When Giles reached his room he kicked off his shoes and ran his hand over his face. He felt scruffy and tired. He vaguely wondered what Xander and Buffy were up to but then shrugged and wandered into the bathroom to shower and change into his own pale blue pajamas.

Were his feelings for Buffy that apparent? He had been hiding them and forcing them down for so long, and in one meeting Brooks had him figured out. Granted, the man was a Watcher and an observer by trade. He was a tracker, and had studied behaviors his entire life. Still, it left Giles unsettled. This was not a time for his personal needs. All that mattered was finding Willow and getting her back safely.

Upon re-entering the bedroom he found Xander stretched out on the far side of the bed sound asleep, still in his clothing. Giles wondered if he should wake the boy so he could at least change, but then decided against it. He’d need his sleep, because morning would come very soon. It was obvious that none of them had been sleeping well lately, so he would not interrupt even one moment of Xander’s rest.

Giles, on the other hand, was wide awake. He pulled on his robe and scuffed his slippered feet down the hall. A pale light was shining out from the crack underneath Buffy’s door. Giles hesitated for a moment, and then knocked softly. “Buffy?”

Buffy was sitting on the bed in her own flannel pajamas. Xander had cried himself out and left her feeling exhausted as well. She had cajoled him into his own bed to get some sleep, but now found herself lost in thoughts of the past. She looked up at the door when the knock came. She heard his soft British voice and her heart melted for an instant. Then she stiffened her posture and got up from the bed to open the door. “Yeah?”

She only opened the door a crack. It was quite apparent to Giles that she was not going to invite him in. Why had he come to her door? Why should he be invited in? He was all a turmoil suddenly. He inhaled deeply to settle himself. He was a proper British Watcher. He had to get a hold of himself.

“Are you finding everything you need? Is the room okay?” Giles pressed his hands down into his big robe. His hair was still a bit damp from the shower and his glasses were slightly askew. He seemed rumpled and lost. Buffy thought he looked like a little boy. She opened the door and nodded for him to come in. He hesitated for only a moment before entering and closing the door softly behind him. He turned back around and glanced around the room. It looked exactly like his own room. Nothing fancy. Buffy was sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked so small, as if she could drown all alone in the huge expanse of blankets and pillows.

“It’s not the Hilton, but it will do. Your room okay?” She flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder as she gazed at him.

He nodded, still standing in the middle of the room. “Xander’s asleep already.”

“Yeah, I know. We were…talking for a bit and then I kicked him out.” Buffy didn’t think Xander would want anyone to know he had been crying. It was Giles, and Buffy knew he’d understand, but it wasn’t her place to tell.

Giles nodded again, taking off his glasses to rub at them before putting them back on his nose. “Are you tired? Am I keeping you?”

It dawned on Buffy then that Giles was also amiss. They all were. Her resolve weakened then and she patted the bed next to her. “Come sit.”

His eyes locked onto hers for a moment and his face softened. He took the two steps forward to the bed and then turned to sit next to her. The bed drooped between them, and soon their shoulders were touching as they leaned together.

They sat in silence for a bit, both lost in their own thoughts. Buffy was wondering how she could even begin to tell Giles everything. How she missed him. How she needed him. How she wasn’t herself when he wasn’t around.

Giles felt his temperature rising just sitting this close to her. He wanted to comfort her more than anything, and take comfort from her as well. “Buffy?” “Giles?” They both turned and spoke at the same time.

Giles chuckled and Buffy giggled. “You first,” she said. He shook his head. “No, you go first. I insist.”

Buffy looked at his face. There were new wrinkles there now. His hair was a bit grayer too. She knew she had put those wrinkles and those gray hairs there. Deep down, she knew everything he did was for her. He had left and she felt abandoned, but he had done it for her. Slowly she got up from the bed and kneeled down on the floor before him. His face became concerned and confused. She rested her hands on his knees, a pleading look in her eyes. Were those tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. “Buffy?” His voice came out in a croak.

She shook her head to silence him. There were so many things she wanted to say. There were so many things she needed to say. But now, all those words were gone. So Buffy said the only words that were on the tip of her tongue. “I’m sorry.” She bent her head as she whispered the words.

Giles was stricken. His own face crumpled and his hands found either side of her face. He cupped her cheeks and pulled her close against his chest, cradling her as they both softly cried. “I’m sorry too.”