"Guess who?" She tried doing that to me once. Ended up pushing the glasses into my eyes and spending five minutes apologizing.

"Hum, let me guess? The big bad vampire that's about to bite me?" Buffy giggled. I was amazed at how quickly Joyce had accepted Buffy's little secret. Although, maybe "secret" was the wrong word for it, seeing as so many people knew about it.

Joyce turned around and smiled. "Hey honey. Rupert."

"Good evening, Joyce."

"What are you two doing here?"

Buffy shrugged "Ho, we were just patrolling, thought we'd stop by to see how you were doing." We followed Joyce to the Jeep. It still bore the proof that Buffy was allowed to drive it. I thought Joyce didn't really have any right to complain. She wasn't the one who found herself in the car with Buffy when she was learning how to drive. Or, at least, pretending to learn. The idea of her legally behind the wheel summed up all that I thought was wrong with the United States.

They chatted for a while, until finally we said goodbye and started walking in the direction of the cemetery. "Shall we continue?" I asked.

Buffy pouted, as only she could. "You sure know how to take the fun out of patrolling."

"It's for your own good. You don't want to repeat your final year, do you? So, where did the deciding battle of the African front in WW2 take place?"

She thought about that for a little too long for someone who had assured me she'd spent the previous night studying. And just as she seemed about ready to answer, we heard the slamming of brakes and a crash.

I saw Hank rush into the waiting room and woke Buffy up. He saw us and made a dash for it, hugging Buffy so fiercely she must have found it hard to breathe.

He didn't even notice I was there for a while, just talked to her and tried to calm her down. But as soon as Buffy introduced us, he tensed. It was obvious that he heard about me, and from the way he placed himself between Buffy and me it was equally obvious that he'd drawn some very wrong conclusions about the nature of our relationship.

The doctor called them. A very pointed glare from Hank made me sit down again, allowing them to talk to the doctor alone.

But when I saw Buffy's knees buckle as she started to cry I couldn't stay away from her. Her mother had died. I ran to her, took her in my arms before her father, in shock himself, had time to react. At the time, I think he appreciated the fact that there was someone there to take care of Buffy while he composed himself. He and Joyce might not have loved each other any more, but there was too much history there for him not to care.

Those feelings did not last long.

Despite Hank's attempts to spend every minute of the day with his daughter, Buffy shied away from him in favor of spending more and more time with me. She didn't mean to hurt him, but there was a rift between them that could not be mended, and Buffy could not bring herself to feel comfortable with him. So she came to me, seeking the comfort she knew I would give her. Hank was not happy with the situation, but was sensitive enough to his daughter's needs to keep quiet.

The day of the funeral found him tense, in grieving, with too many bottled up emotions. It had been a hard week for him, and between the arrangements and Buffy he hadn't dealt with his own emotions about any of it. He was not in any kind of shape to handle any more surprises.

It is regrettable that he chose that day to talk to Buffy about the living arrangements.

Buffy did not want to leave Sunnydale. Couldn't, really. Aside from the hellmouth, there was also no way for her to continue her education in L. A. Sunnydale High was the only decent school that would, reluctantly, accept her. Hank knew that. He knew some arrangement would have to be made to allow her to stay in Sunnydale.

He wasn't ready for her solution: Move in with me.

Her request caught us both by surprise. I, at least, saw the wisdom in it. Hank looked at it through the eyes of a father whose daughter had just asked him to allow her to live with an older man he did not know, did not trust, and whose motives he did not believe.

Buffy understood his insinuation and lost her temper. I couldn't make heads or tails of the rather loud argument that ensued. All I know is this: At the end of it all, Buffy was living with me, more upset than ever, and her father would not speak to her.

It had been three months since Joyce's death. Buffy seemed better, almost happy some of the time.

As for me, I was in trouble.

"Give her the test, or be removed from your position." I couldn't believe he said that to me. With everything Buffy had been through, he still insisted on dragging her through this damned test.

How could I send her there, weak and defenseless, against something as cruel as the creatures faced in the tests?

How could I not? I would be relieved of my position as her watcher, perhaps forced to leave the country. She would be alone.

I couldn't go through with it. I had to find a reason for the test to be moved, some "the world is about to end" type event that would require the slayer to be fully functional for long enough to allow me to plead with the council.

I could find nothing.

I considered not giving her all of the drug. Give her enough to make her a little woozy, but not enough to make her weak.

Or not give it to her at all? No, a slayer at full strength would be too easy to detect. But if she were a little weak, a little unstable on her feet... but strong. Stronger than normal humans. Stronger than the drug would make her feel if used properly. He'd know.

Maybe tell her? She could make herself appear quite ill at times, I saw her do it enough, whenever she didn't want to go to school. She was rather good at it.

They would know. They always knew. There was only one thing for me to do...

I woke up very early in the morning, the day the first injection was to be administered. Buffy was asleep, peaceful and safe in the home of the man who swore to protect her. I watched her. Attacked now, she would have a greater chance than against those monsters, completely powerless.

Or, maybe Quentin was right. Maybe the other things that made her who she was would keep her alive.

That wasn't a risk I was willing to take. Unlike those other watchers, I had faced my slayer's own mortality. She had died. I knew she wasn't all-powerful. That changed everything. The knowledge that she could die is something no watcher had ever had, as no watcher was ever assigned two slayers. But I knew she could die, knew how afraid she was of it. How could I make her face it again?

She woke up and smiled at me. "Good morning."

I smiled back and walked over to sit next to her. "Good morning. Sleep well?"

"Yeah." She picked at the clock. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I just woke up. Don't worry about it." I got up. "Go back to sleep. No need for you to be up."

"All right. Night."

"Night."

She turned around and soon fell asleep.

I went to my room and looked at the little box. All the cruelty of the world in such a small thing.

I pause and look at my audience. Willow is sitting with her head on Xander's shoulder, looking at me with wide eyes. She had changed so much...

"What happened after that you know. I proceeded with the injections. Buffy was nearly killed, and I told her the truth. She was enraged, understandably, and left the library.

I killed the vampire. But he was the least of my problems.

Back in the library, Quentin was waiting for me. He informed me that my interference would not be ignored, and relieved me of my duties as a watcher, asking me to leave town.

I couldn't. Not until I had set things right between Buffy and myself. So I went home."

Buffy was sitting on the chair near the desk. My relief at finding her there did not last long. There was a suitcase next to her, waiting to be picked up and carried out of my life.

"Buffy, I..."

"Don't." Her voice was shaky. She was crying. "How... how could you do that to me Giles? I... trusted you, I loved you so much, and you took that and you used it to crush me." She got up. "How could you? I thought you loved me too."

"Buffy I do..."

"Don't. I don't want to hear it. What ever excuse you have, what the council said. I don't care. This was between you and me Giles, no one else. And it hurts so much... that you could do that to me. That their stupid rules were more important than me. That you could promise me that you'd help me, and then..."

She drew a shuddery breath. "I got a phone call. It said you're no longer my watcher. Is that true? Did you kill the vampire?"

"Yes."

"So what now? Are you leaving?"

"I told you the night Jenny died: I would never leave you. You asked for that promise and I gave it too you. I won't back out of it." She looked away. "Unless you want me too."

"I don't know if I can trust you."

"I don't know what to say; how to make it better. I betrayed you; you have every right to hate me. But I... I want you to forgive me Buffy. I'll do anything for that."

She looked up at me. "Promise me that you won't try anything like that again. That you'll take care of me; that I can trust you like I did. Like I should. That you love me."

"I promise."

For a long moment she looked at me without saying a thing. Then she picked up her suitcase. I breathed in sharply, but she didn't turn for the door. She headed to her room.

"Buffy... I'm sorry."

"I know."

Buffy forgave me my transgression. She gave me back her love and trust, as undeserving as I was of them.

I knew that the council would not be as forgiving. But I had no idea...

The End