For the next few weeks, Giles spent a lot of time sleeping. But whenever he was awake, he had a visitor. The gang had arranged it so that there was always someone with him, and while he told them they were fussing too much, he was thankful. Cordelia was still around, although Wesley and Angel had slipped back off to LA at as soon as they knew he was going to be fine.
He had been able to speak quietly after a few days, as the doctor had suggested, although he had discovered, in the most difficult way, that it hurt to laugh. The swelling around his eyes had gone down, and he had been moved to a room with a television. That was Cordelia's request.
"I'm not spending my time knitting while you're asleep! I might miss out on Passions! And besides, can you really imagine ME knitting?? I'd make you a jumper, and you'd have to come back in here for an operation to weld your head to your armpit!" That had been the day he realised laughing *wasn't* such a good idea.
He was still lying flat most of the time, as it hurt to move. He had been spending a few minutes a day sitting, but it was such a laborious process to get him into a comfortable position without hurting him on the way that he wasn't so sure it was worth it.
After he had been in that same bed for almost three months, he was to be allowed to go home. He still couldn't move too well, and sudden movements in particular hurt him like hell, but he was sure he would heal better at home. As the doctors seemed to agree, the arrangements were made. Cordelia was to stay in his house, and be a live-in nurse. At first this had seemed like a wonderful idea to him, as it would give him the perfect chance to tell her how he felt. He didn't know she'd already read the letter. The more he thought about it, though, the worse that sounded. He was happy to have her staying with him, God knows he would need the help, and the others had their own lives to lead. Not that Cordelia didn't, but she was so unwilling to leave him on his own that he couldn't refuse. He just decided that he wouldn't mention his feelings, because he was certain that she wouldn't love him in that state, even if she would consider it when he was full strength.
Giles and Cordelia soon became as close as two people can be, without being lovers. She attended to his every need, and still got plenty of time to herself. He made sure of that. Buffy popped over between lectures when she could, and at nights too. Willow and Tara were helping Anya mind the shop, and even Spike had been to visit him. These visits always seemed to come when Passions was showing, though, so Giles had his suspicions that Spike thought Giles' TV set was better than his own.
Giles slowly reached over to where he kept the TV remote, and switched the set off. Flicking off the light while his hand was nearby, he settled down to sleep. His dreams were never comfortable, as he had to remain in the same position all the time. Just as his hand returned to his side, he heard a soft tapping at the door.
"Mmm," he murmured. Cordelia went in anyway, whether he wanted her to or not.
"Giles, I can't keep this a secret any longer. I'm madly in love with you, and I have been since I first laid eyes on you." Without pausing for breath, she leant down and planted a huge kiss on his lips. She sat back and looked at him inquisitively.
"Giles. Giles. Giles?" he heard a voice that sounded like Buffy's, but it was far away, perhaps she was downstairs.
"Cordelia, you should get the door."
"Giles. Giles. GILES!" It came louder this time.
Suddenly his eyes snapped open to reveal Buffy standing at his bedside, Cordelia nowhere in sight.
"Good dream?" She enquired. "You looked happy."
"The best." His eyes clouded over. "If I looked so happy, why the bloody hell did you wake me up you fool?!"
"I just stopped by before my lecture, to tell you that I won't have time to stop by after my lecture." He was unable to stop himself from smiling at Buffy's crazy logic. She cocked her head and stared at him for a minute.
"You look tired. I should go."
"I should probably get some more sleep," he agreed.
As Buffy stood, he looked at her and noticed properly for the first time how much she'd grown up since he first met her. When she'd walked into the library on her first day, he had truly thought she was a lost cause.
She'd been forced to grow up a lot recently, looking after Dawn, protecting her from Glory. Now with Joyce gone, he was really proud of the way she was handling everything.
"Do I have something in my teeth?" She broke into his thoughts, once again making him smile.
"No. Buffy, I want you to know how proud I am of you. You've handled everything so well, especially since your mother…" He looked uncomfortable.
"It's OK," she replied, softly. "You can say it." She reached over and took one of his hands.
"You and Cordelia are the most important people in the world to me," he began. "It makes me so happy to know you're getting along at last."
"Giles, you aren't gonna die or anything are you? Because I don't think I could cope if you died as well. You've been more of a Dad to me these last few years than my real dad was the rest of the time." She turned away, and Giles guessed she didn't want him to see her crying.
"Shhh. It's OK." He sat up, despite the obvious pain, and pulled her to him. He stroked her hair, but didn't say anything until she was calm. He looked up, and he saw Cordelia in the doorway, watching this scene with sad eyes. She cleared her throat, but when she spoke there was a shake in her voice that he wasn't used to.
"Buffy, didn't you say you had a lecture at 2? Cuz, I though you might like to know that its almost twenty-to."
Buffy sprang up from the bed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Umm…thanks, Cordelia." She turned back to Giles. "I'll try and stop by later if I can."
He heard the front door click a few minutes later, and called out to Cordelia. She came quickly, but seemed to have lost a lot of her usual sparkle.
"Can I get you something?" Her voice was quiet, and she was avoiding his eyes.
"Come and sit here." He gestured to the seat next to his bed.
"No, I can't. I'm … I'm busy." She started to leave the room, but he stopped her.
"Cordelia, please." His face was so gentle, and the look in his eyes so sad, she couldn't resist him. She sat down in the seat he pointed at. "I need to talk to you. You do know how important you are to me, don't you?"
"Y'know, it's funny, I could swear I heard you telling Buffy exactly that a few minutes ago." Her voice was filled with spite.
"Cordelia, please, don't be like this."
"Why not? Cuz from where I'm standing it seems pretty clear that you're just a perverted old man with nothing better to do than crack on to girls barely out of their teens."
"Oh think what you like Cordelia. I'm too tired to argue with you now."
He turned onto his side, and closed his eyes, doing his best to block out the vision of Cordelia permanently imprinted on his memory. He had come so close to telling her how he really felt about her, and she had thrown it all back in his face. Maybe she wasn't the person he thought she was. Perhaps she hadn't grown up as much as he had thought. But he also knew that the Cordelia he had gotten to know over the last few weeks was completely genuine. He rubbed his head in both pain and frustration. Had he come on too strong? Had he scared her off? Was he really as bad as she thought he was?
Cordelia stood by the bed, feeling the tears forming in her eyes. Why had she said those things? Now he would probably never speak to her again. She walked out of the door and into the room she had been using as her own. Fishing around under the bed, she pulled out the suitcase Angel had sent down from LA for her. She put a few things in it, but eventually she just slumped on the bed and began to cry. Large, silent tears.
She lay there for what seemed like forever, unable to even think about moving. It was as if some invisible force was keeping her there.
When she felt as if she had no more tears left in her, or energy to cry, she sat up. Reaching over onto her nightstand she found her hair brush and slowly pulled it through her short brown bob. Standing up, she washed her make up off in the washbasin she had in the corner of her room.
"If he'll have me like this, he really does love me," she murmured. Taking one last glance to assure herself she looked presentable, she slowly walked back into Giles' room.
"Giles?" it was almost a whisper, but she was pleased there was no shake this time. "Giles?" Still no reply. She walked closer to the bed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Giles, please talk to me. I … I couldn't bare it if you hated me." He spun over faster than his bruises liked, as the pained look on his face showed.
"Oh, Cordelia. I could never hate you, but those things you said … they hurt me." He looked up into her face and noticed she was prettier than ever without her make-up. He held out his hand, giving her a small smile. Smiling back, she took it, and sat in the edge of his bed.
"All those things I heard you saying to Buffy …I … I was just jealous, I guess. Those are all things I've imagined you saying to me. You know I didn't mean any of those things …right?"
"I know. Cordelia, the way I love her is completely different to the way I love you. Buffy is like a daughter to me … with you … with you it's so much more."
He looked up into her eyes once again, looking for a reaction, some sign that she'd understood what he told her, but he couldn't see anything. He'd told her everything, and she didn't even have the courtesy to tell him to get lost.
"Please leave, Cordelia. It's perfectly clear that you don't feel the same. I'd like to be alone now if you don't –"
She silences him. One soft, smooth finger on his lips and her lost all sensible thought. She leaned in and kissed him gently on the forehead.
"I love you, Giles," she whispered softly, before moving her lips onto his. The kiss was sweeter than any he'd ever felt before. He was numb with shock, and surprise at the same time. Recovering slightly, he slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, stroking her hair with his free hand.
Pulling away from him slightly, she began to undo the buttons on his shirt. The severity of his wounds shocked her, and he self-consciously pulled her closer to him so that she couldn't see. Smiling, he kissed her again, stronger this time, more passionate. He helped her work her jumper over her head, and pulled her back into the kiss.