Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy. Joss Whedon does.
Nevertheless
Photographs and memories, that's all he had left, now. And memories were such fluid, slippery things, and he feared that he would lose hold of them. The smell of her perfume, the way her eyes brightened when she teased him, these small details could fade away as easily as the mist at sunrise.
Photographs are easier to keep track of, but Rupert Giles only had one.
They'd had another of their research parties together, before Angel had lost his soul and the world had been turned upside-down. The whole group of them had come, even Cordelia. They had been researching a peculiar type of demon that seemed relatively harmless, but seemed to be behind the recent disappearances of several cats and dogs.
Xander had brought his camera along, claiming that they needed to document their "heroic struggle against the evil forces", and had taking candid shots of them as they dug through several of the library's tomes. Well, most of the pictures had actually been of him stuffing unholy amounts of pizza into his mouth and jumping out from behind bookcases and scaring people, but that didn't seem to bother him.
He had eventually gotten bored of that, however, and recruited Willow to take some of Cordelia with his arm around her. Cordelia had threatened to run him over in with her sports car if he ever showed them to anyone, but he'd just laughed.
And then Jenny, who had been watching these events with some amusement, grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the squabbling couple.
"Xander, could you please do one of us?" she'd asked sweetly, grinning mischievously at Rupert. He'd started stuttering out excuses immediately, but she'd told him to relax. She gripped his hand, lacing her fingers between his, and caught sight of his befuddled expression and laughed.
That's how the moment had been captured; her giggling and leaning against his shoulder, him looking awkward, confused, but happy nonetheless.
He'd kept it in his wallet, at first, and had left it there, even when her true identity had been revealed. Once she was gone, however, it was too painful to see her beaming up at him every day. He'd tucked it away in one of the drawers in his desk at the library, hoping that it would be forgotten. But it never was.
Xander discovered it about a year later, when they were looking up information on a strangely powerful vampire they had encountered. The boy had been digging through the desk, searching for a book, when he accidentally knocked the picture out. He'd bent down to pick it up, and his smile had quickly fallen away when he saw what it was. With the greatest of care, he'd placed it back in its spot and gently shut the drawer.
Xander had laid a comforting arm on Rupert's shoulders, seeing how his eyes had suddenly been pricked with tears by a memory of love lost.
With one thing and another, the rest of the year flew by. All too suddenly, graduation day was upon them. Only after the school had been engulfed in a fireball caused by the explosives they'd set up in the library did he realize that the photograph had still been inside his desk. He stared regretfully at the charred wreck of the building, then, head bowed, had started towards home.
He was stopped by a firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Angel staring at him solemnly. Without speaking, the vampire handed him a scrap of paper. Looking at him quizzically, he unfolded it to find that it was his picture. Seeing Jenny's smile, he could barely keep himself from weeping again. Instead, he gave Angel a wordless look of understanding and gratitude, then continued on his way with it clutched tightly in his hand.
The now slightly-charred photograph's new home was in the drawer of his bedside table. But after Olivia ran off, he'd framed it and put in next to his lamp, where he could see it.
It had gotten company when he'd placed a picture of Buffy and Joyce together nearby, just after Glory's defeat. And Ben's murder…
It had remained there for a while, until Rupert had decided to move back to England. He'd slipped it out of its frame and wedged it in the middle of his first edition Forester book, and it had survived the trip intact. He put it back in its old position on his bedside table when he unpacked at his new home.
Returning to America, he had decided to keep it inside the book once more. He didn't trust the staff of the motel he was staying in, and was by now far too attached to the picture to be able to bear it if it was stolen. But it was safe inside the book he'd lent her once, long ago.
And when he'd gone off to face the First Evil's army, on the day he was likely to die, he charged into battle with it in his shirt pocket, right next to his heart.
When he'd gotten back on the school bus after staring down at the crater that had been Sunnydale, he pulled it out. Amazingly, it was unharmed, and Jennifer Calendar still grinned up at him.
He felt hope rising within him, like a thermal under an eagle's wings, and let it carry him on to a bright new world.