He's sitting on the couch, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, but he's coiled tight.
"But why?"
"I've taught you all that I know, Buffy. There's no reason for me to remain…"
"Giles, I need you here. For a million reasons!"
"No, Buffy, you don't. I might be convenient to have around, but I assure you, you haven't needed me for, for…"
"You're wrong. And I don't understand how…"
I'm caught off guard as his hands shoot out, and capture my face. I'm even more surprised when he presses his lips firmly against mine. It's a tender kiss, but still there's no mistaking it as anything chaste. When he releases me and pulls away, his eyes meet mine for an instant and I see that he is ashamed. He quickly drops his gaze. It takes him a moment to find his voice, and when he does I detect a quiet, desperate pleading.
"Do you understand now?"
I feel like someone has kicked me in the stomach. I know the feeling well.
"Giles, I didn't know."
"No, of course you didn't. How could you? But now you do, I think you'll agree it's only fair…"
"Can't you just…"
I startle as he bolts from the couch; the severity of his voice is disconcerting.
"No, Buffy, I bloody well can't! Not anymore."
He whips a handkerchief from his pocket, and draws it over his glasses. After a moment of restless pacing he sinks back down beside me.
"I'm sorry, Buffy. I didn't mean to be so harsh with you."
"How long?"
"Quite some time."
"So you're just going to leave?"
"That was my plan, yes."
"Giles, you're…"
"I don't want to hear that I'm your closest friend, and don't tell me that you love me like a father. Buffy, sometimes cold comfort is no comfort at all."
"You are. And I do."
"Even so."
I try to think of something to say, to make everything go back to the way it was before. To the way I thought it was before. But I can't. And really, I shouldn't be surprised. Men always suffer, for having loved me. I want to sound upbeat, nonchalant, but instead my voice belongs to a scared little girl.
"Will I ever see you again?"
He won't look at me, but he grabs my hand and grips it so hard it hurts.
"I don't know. Give me some time to reclaim my own life. To remember who I was before I became your watcher. Let me try to find some peace. Perhaps then I can be the man you'd prefer I was. Maybe I can learn to be convenient once again."
He lets go of my hand and rises, He's just a few steps away from the door when my voice stops him.
"I don't need you to be convenient. I just need you to be here."
He's crossed the divide between us in an instant his strong arms enveloping me in a fierce embrace. He presses his forehead against mine, and I feel a wet warmth on my face; I can't tell if they are his tears or mine.
He breaks the silence first and the ache in his voice tells me just how much this has cost him.
"Then I'll be here."