Buffy slept late into the morning in the deep sleep of a safe Slayer, a Slayer who had her Watcher wrapped tight around her. She was aware at some level that the sun was up, but she was too comfortable to want to wake. The Slayer spirit was at peace already, even if her body wasn't yet satisfied. They were awakened at last by knocking on the door. Buffy stuck her head under the pillow but Giles untangled himself from her. He was politer than she'd have been asking who it was.

"A message, sir, from Sir John."

Giles opened the door. Buffy pulled her head out from under the pillow. It was the black-haired boy who'd been hanging around Ellen, dressed in the neat uniform of the pages. He stepped just inside the door but did not come in any further. Buffy yanked the blankets up to neck level anyway.

In daylight, she could see why Ellen would sneak out to be with this kid. He was handsome, with straight black hair falling into his face and nice broad shoulders.

Giles said to him, "What does Sir John want?"

"He wants to see you now. I'll take you to him as soon as you're ready."

"What's this about?"

But the boy had ducked out again and shut the door behind himself. Giles laid his hand on the doorknob then stood there motionless. Buffy rolled out of bed.

"Guess I gotta get dressed fast. Arm for battle, you think?"

"I believe he meant only me."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Giles. "There's no way. You know that."

Giles smiled at her. "I should know better by now. But I doubt we need arm ourselves."

The walkways and grassy lawns were wet with morning dew. Everything smelled fresh and green and lovely. It was another storybook day in the English countryside. Buffy had forgotten her sunglasses but the sun wasn't the same sun that beat down on her in California. It was mellower. The latitude, maybe, or maybe it was all those fluffy clouds in the sky, scudding around. As they walked, she tried to guess what the summons meant. The knights had reached a decision last night after they'd kicked her out. That was easy to guess. Harder to guess: which decision? She could imagine Conway summoning them over to deliver bad news and kick them out. If so, Ellen would be in their rooms packing their stuff already. they would have made clear that the summons was for both of them, if that were the case. Could it be good news?

Giles's hands were deep in his pockets and he was looking at his own feet instead of at the gorgeous day around them. Nervous, probably. Or bracing himself. Buffy wanted to say something encouraging, but she couldn't with the page there, leading them up the steps and into the house where Conway lived. Buffy looked and saw it: the ramp built over the steps on the side, so Conway could get in and out without aid.

He was waiting for them in a room with walls lined with bookshelves, sitting behind a great wooden desk. There weren't any chairs on their side of the desk, so they stood. Giles's head turned; he was looking at the bookshelf near his elbow, and apparently interested by whatever he saw. Buffy was more interested in the wall behind Conway, where a shield and a sword were hung, not for display, but as if waiting to be used. The colors on the shield were red, gold, and black, and the design was abstract. Conway's arms. She wondered when he'd last swung the sword.

"Mr Giles. Good morning. And Miss Summers, of course you came. I did not summon you, but you scarcely need summoning, do you."

"Sorry about that," she said, in a tone of voice that made it clear she wasn't sorry.

"What's this?" Giles said.

"Miss Summers attended a portion of our debate last night. She didn't tell you about it?"

Giles cast a glance at her sidelong. "No, she didn't. Nor was I aware there was a debate."

Buffy shrugged. "They argued. It was boring. I left before anybody won. Who won?"

"It was a stalemate. The saint himself will decide for us. If he decides to accept you during your vigil, Mr Giles, then you are one of us."

So despite Conway's description, Twombly had won. He'd been the one arguing that the decision wasn't theirs to make. Conway either agreed, or secretly felt that Giles would make the cut.

Giles said, "This vigil- the vigil of arms?"

"Yes. You may be familiar with a similar ritual from other traditions. Ours is... more real. You will keep vigil over your arms while the Power- the saint who gives our Order its name- examines your soul. If he finds you worthy, you will know. If he does not, you will also know."

Giles said nothing, but there went the hands deep into the pockets again. He probably wanted to be cleaning his glasses.

"I trust you are still interested in accepting our offer."

"I am," Giles said. "When?"

"Tonight, at sunset. You have today to rest and prepare. You will need to learn your part in the ritual. It's all here."

Conway pushed a little book across the desk. Giles picked it up and opened it to a page at random. He closed it again and thrust it into his trouser pocket.

"We'll send someone round about five to get things started. The rest of the day is yours. I suggest you read the advice to aspirants and take it straight away. Do not break your fast. That will be all."

Dismissed, with all his usual politeness. Buffy followed Giles out of the building and back out into the brilliant sunshine. Once safely out, Buffy hugged Giles, careful not to squeeze his ribs too tight.

"Congratulations," she said.

"Perhaps."

"Don't go indecisive on me now."

Giles shook his head. The boy, whose name Buffy still didn't know, was nowhere in sight, so they made their own way back to the dormitory. Somebody had been in while they were gone and made their bed. Buffy sat down on it and reflected that she was happy not to have grown up as a page with these guys, because she'd have hated making other people's beds. Though maybe that didn't happen every day. Mostly the knights lived elsewhere, on their own or with squires, just as she did on the Hellmouth. They made their own beds. Sharpened their own swords.

Giles was in the armchair again, this time with the ritual book instead of the Aeneid. He'd kicked his shoes off and was slouching in the chair. Buffy snagged her mystery novel again and sprawled out on the bed to read. When her book bored her, she would tuck her finger into it and watch Giles read surreptitiously. Moments when she could quietly admire this guy without him noticing were rare. Usually he was the one watching her. He was reading quickly, turning pages at a rate she might have found improbable if she hadn't seen him in fast information absorption mode before. He would read it all again more slowly later, and commit more of it to memory than was fair. If she could figure out how he did that, she'd have far better grades than she did. Maybe he could be convinced to teach her.

Of course Giles would teach her. He would teach her anything he knew, freely and without hesitation. That was how it was between them. That was one of the the charges laid upon him.

Buffy tossed her book aside and got up. She perched on the arm of Giles's chair. He rested his hand on her thigh and stroked. "Hmm?"

"Mind if I peek?"

Giles handed the book over to her. It was a lot like the magic guides Willow read sometimes, with color coded diagrams showing the positions of everything. There were two ceremonies described: the vigil and the accolade. The words felt odd to her, like things from the Boy's King Arthur again. Swords and spurs and oaths of fealty, definitely storybook instead of real world. Courtly love and quests and the king waiting for his moment to return from a mist-shrouded isle.

"Isn't this all kind of, um, over the top? Kneeling and stuff?"

Giles pulled one foot up onto the chair and tucked it underneath himself. He said, "We English are more accustomed to ceremony than you Americans are."

"Your judges do have those funny wigs."

A flash of a smile from Giles to that. "As you say."

"Conway's giving you the dub?"

"Head of the order. Traditionally. Though in modern times-"

"What?"

"It would be the Queen. If this were an official knighthood." He sounded faintly wistful.

"It isn't?"

"I shan't bore you with the details, but no, it isn't. This is a secret order. The titles are private, not official. It's a private act. Something between me and the Powers. Or rather, the Power that chooses to invest me with its strength."

"What is that, anyway? Saint George as in for England, Harry, and Saint George?"

"He's the one. A messenger of the Powers, possibly. An avatar. I found something in their library about it, but I haven't had the time to read more fully."

"They said a different Power made me."

Giles's face changed and he touched his fingers to his lips. When he spoke again, he did so slowly. "I'm not sure what made you. I asked my tutor once, when I'd found a thread of something in one of the Watcher histories, but he had no answers for me. Not the same thing, I suspect."

"Nobody ever gave us a choice. I like George better."

Though Giles had chosen it. Twice, more, if this counted as a separate choice. Over and over, even though he lost friends and lovers and risked himself. Sometimes she thought he had as much free will as she did about this. If somebody had asked her now if she wanted to stay the Slayer or move on, she'd pick being the Slayer. And wasn't that a trip.

"Does the Council do anything like this?"

Giles snorted in answer.

"What was that about no food for you?"

"I'm fasting. Only water until tomorrow morning after the ritual is over. It's usual for these things. The magic might make me ill otherwise. But also there's an element of mortification of the flesh."

"That sounds gruesome."

Giles shook his head. "Hardly. It's more of a symbolic gesture. A spot of doing without something I want."

"No sneaking off for nookie with your Slayer, then?"

"Absolutely not."

"Not even if I order you to?"

"I'm not your squire. More's the pity."

"You didn't mind following me around all day and fixing my armor?"

"I didn't mind. Rather the reverse." That last was in a lower voice than before. Giles cleared his throat and fiddled with his glasses. Buffy rubbed her nose thoughtfully. That comment had obviously meant more to him than she might have expected. She reached out and touched his shoulder. He smiled at her but made no gesture in return. This didn't faze Buffy. It was true that he had more important things than nookie to think about right now. Though she sort of didn't. She was feeling restless again for some reason. There was only so much sitting around a Slayer wanted to do, especially a Slayer that hadn't been hunting.

"I was thinking of going off and trying out that climbing wall. Want to come with?"

"No. I, I think I'd rather stay here alone. I should like some time to meditate. I feel unprepared. It's all so, so sudden."

"You're nervous."

"I could fail. The saint might find me unworthy." His hand drifted to the inside of his left elbow, then away.

"Remember that I want you. I choose you."

He shook his head, which just wouldn't do. On a whim, Buffy gripped his shirt and tugged him over to her. She kissed him. He didn't respond, but neither did he pull away. She kissed him a second time, lingering for a moment, and this time he kissed her back. His hand came up to rest on her waist and his eyes closed. Buffy tried to make it comforting, not carnal. Then she had a thought.

"Would you wear my favor tonight? For luck. If it's not traditional, it should be."

She took her crucifix off. To her surprise, Giles got out of the armchair and went down onto his knees before her. His hands were crossed on his chest and his head bent. It was a strangely formal posture, deliberate. It reminded her of something, though she couldn't remember what. She slipped the chain around his neck and did the clasp. He remained in place. He was breathing fast. Buffy rested her hand on his head and his breath caught for a moment.

"When it's over, tomorrow night, whenever- when it's over, I'll give you a better token. Something you can keep." It couldn't be her crucifix, because it was too obviously feminine. She would think of something by then.

"When it's over," he repeated.

He rose to his feet and the mood was broken. He picked up the book again and opened it. His attention was already shifting away from her and toward his upcoming ordeal. Buffy took her leave of him and went off to leave him to his preparation.