Tara daubs his broad forehead with a wet cloth. "I think you're going to be okay."

Giles shrugs uncomfortably. He doesn't look up.

"Hold still," Tara says, a smile in her voice.

He still doesn't look up, but she sees the corner of his mouth move. Tara breathes a little easier.

She goes to the freezer with a dishcloth. Ice rattles, and she turns around sealing a handful in the cloth with an expert twist. "You're getting good at this," he says.

"This?" Tara raises her eyebrows, mom-like. "Is normal."

She takes his hand and puts the icepack into it.