POV's for Chapter 8... Giles/Buffy. Chapter 9 will have alternative ones, but this seemed like a good critical chapter. :)

Lyrics are from the Who, the song is "See My Way".

Hope you enjoy! Hope you review!

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Chapter 8
Apologize

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She stepped inside, shivering slightly from the rain. She stepped carefully over the bags on the floor and sat down on the couch, her eyes still staring straight ahead. I could see her shoulders tremble.

"I'll make some tea," I said quickly, walking into the kitchen and setting the kettle on the stove. As I stood there, a mellowing thought passed through my mind and I rested my head against my arm a silent moment before I pulled back. "It'll be ready in a moment."

She glanced up at me, her eyes widening in shock. "Giles," she breathed, "are you wearing leather?"

I glanced down at myself. Sure enough, the shiny black leather that seemed so entertaining a mere few hours ago felt constricting. "I guess I am," I said, forcing a brief smile. I quickly shrugged off the coat and set it down, leaving my button-down shirt and denim pants on. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

She flinched at the harshness of my words, but part of me couldn't help it. Just the night before she had been biting my head off, literally, about Spike, Angel and a variety of other things. She finally looked up and met my eyes. I could see her lips tremble. I quickly sat down next to her, but she moved slightly away. "I guess I'm here to apologize," she said, boldly meeting my eyes again. "I'm such a terrible person. You've been nothing but fantastic and here I come along and do something so stupid..."

"I was wrong about Spike," I said, trying to keep my voice controlled. "He was still trying to get in with you, from what I have been able to gather from Anya. He still loves you, but not like he used to."

"I wish so badly he didn't," she said, which brought large, oily tears to her eyes. She had to blink them away, but her voice was still thick with them. "I wish I could just kill him sometimes, the ways he's hurt me..."

"I would never let him hurt you," I said gently, touching her shoulder. She glanced up at me, her gaze sad, yet curious. The moment was broken by the whistle of a teapot. "How long have you been wandering around?"

"I went by the park, the bronze, everything... just to make sure it was still there, you know?" she said, hugging herself to keep herself warm. I nodded as I returned to the kitchen, taking the kettle off the stove. I had to pause again and collect my thoughts. She had come to me to apologize. She had done it walking in the rain.

I guess I was still important to her. I guess I still had her respect. I shrugged off the feelings of warmth as I poured two steaming mugs of tea and added a plate of kippers. She looked at me as I brought the tea in on a tray and sat back down. She took the mug in trembling hands and mumbled a thanks as she drank the piping hot liquid.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

"I was terrible," she finally admitted, snitching a kipper from the plate. "I felt terrible about last night, being your birthday and everything. I should never have yelled at you like that. It's not your fault Spike is a jerk, will always be a jerk. You were just trying to help me see things, and I should have known. You've already done so much for me..." She glanced up and saw my eyes. Her own eyes widened, then she quickly glanced back down to her tea and sipped more at it.

"I was afraid I would have lost your respect," I said in a low voice. I leaned forward and picked up my own cup. "I was afraid that you would go and get yourself killed again."

She shook her head slowly as she continued drinking her tea. "And I was afraid I'd lost your trust..." her voice trailed off as more tears followed. She brushed them away harshly before taking a second kipper.

"You'll never lose that," I replied quietly, watching her eat the snack. "Just as you'll never lose my respect. You've been through more than most people twice your age. I just felt like if you were reckless and I wasn't able to protect you, I'd lose you again."

"How did you feel," she began slowly, "when I fell from the tower?"

"I felt like I wanted to die," I replied in a low voice, setting my tea aside. Her eyes widened again as she glanced away, trying to collect her own thoughts, I assumed.

"I never knew you would feel like that," Buffy admitted in a voice as low as my own. "I promise I won't be reckless anymore. I just want to do what I was chosen to do."

"You will," I said with a smile. "I have no doubt you won't."

She beamed then, her first smile since she'd walked in my door. She finished the tea and set it aside. As she leaned over, I saw how wet she really was, leaving large watermarks on my couch. "Would you like a shower?" I asked her softly.

She glanced at me, then toward the hallway, a tempting gleam in her eye. "Would you mind?" she asked. "I'm a little cold."

I nodded and gestured toward the bathroom. "It's all yours." I stood up and fished in my bags for a moment before pulling out the shiny, silver shirt and handing it to her. "Wear this."

She took it and glanced down at my bags, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Giles? Where did you get all of this?"

"The gift certificate," I replied. "The gift from Willow and Tara for my birthday."

Her mouth formed the shape of an 'O' before she turned away. "Giles?"

"Yes?" I asked, turning around, the rest of my parcels falling from my hands. She was staring at the silver material in her hands, shaking her head, her shoulders trembling with sputtered laughter.

"What is this?"

"A shirt," I replied indignantly. "Anya said it made me 'the bomb', whatever that means."

Buffy struggled to control her giggles. "Could you have a cup of tea waiting for me when I get out?"

I nodded, giving her another reassuring smile.

She smiled back, and this time the warmth reached her eyes, making me feel more relieved than anxious as she turned to head down the hall and disappeared from view. I waited until the door had closed and I heard water running before I started going through the bags. The clothes I put in the basket on the foot of the stairs. I replaced the kettle on the stove so her tea would be hot once she finished with the shower. The groceries I put away quickly, since the ice cream was melting. The books I got from the bookstore I stacked onto the coffee table. Finally satisfied I had put everything away, I sat down.

I was getting warm, I thought to myself, setting her mug next to the last remaining kippers. I unbuttoned the top two buttons and finally decided to remove my shirt. Spotting my guitar in the corner, I stood up to take it back upstairs and paused on the bottom steps, hearing the water in the shower turn off. I glanced down at my guitar and sat on the bottom steps, my fingers gently strumming soft, minor chords.

"Some way, some day, I'll find a way
To make you see my way
Even if you don't think like I do
You know that it's true
It's your mind that I seek
Tried so hard to make me think my point of view was bad
Although at times when you kept on I thought that I was mad...
Tried so hard to make me think my point of view was bad
Although at times when you kept on I thought that I was mad..."

 I kept singing, singing the words that flowed from my fingers, trying to make them say all the words I couldn't, the words I couldn't bear to say.

I glanced up suddenly upon hearing footsteps. Buffy stood right in front of me, the mug cradled in her hands, tears in her eyes.

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It was awesome, really. At first I thought Giles would kick me out of his house, but I had managed enough courage to muster an apology. He had been kind, very endearing in fact. I thought for sure I was in trouble, yet all he had to do was look into my eyes to see how sorry I was.

Then he had offered me his shower. After walking for twenty minutes in the pouring rain, it had felt wonderful. Hot, steaming water had fallen, loosening my cramped muscles. I had smiled serenely to the ceiling, wondering if I was perhaps in wonderland.

After I stepped out and began to dry off, I heard the strangest thing from the living room. Music. I had tiptoed out and saw Giles, topless, his eyes closed, his fingers gently brushing the strings, his voice wrought with emotion. It was touching, the way he put passion into his music. Just like he put passion into watching my back, as he had for so many years before.

Which was why he was staring at me, as I struggled to regain my emotions. "That was beautiful," I choked out.

"Just an old song," he replied, clearly uncomfortable to be caught in that position. He stood up, using the guitar to shield himself, trying to avert his gaze from the awe still dangling in mine. I turned away and he quickly went up the steps. "I'm going to ring Willow and tell her you made it safely over here!" he called down. "She almost had a heart attack before."

I smiled and sat down, waiting for him to come back once he had realized I wasn't going to bite him or anything. Making myself comfortable, I began searching through the four or five new volumes he had stacked on top of the table next to the kippers. Sneaking one and sipping my tea, I found one book of interest. It had a very colorful cover and with large black block letters, the title screamed "100 Reasons Why..." and below, a list of what you might need a hundred reasons for. I found the one hundred reasons why I was still single quite interesting.

I opened the book and scanned the table of contents, then flipped to the middle of the book, laid down, and started reading. It was all fascinating stuff, really. The top reason was that my interest in men was completely lame and perhaps I should try the opposite sex. The second reason was for lack of interest. The third said something about sex... on and on...

I didn't realize I was falling asleep until the book fell down to the floor and my head dropped onto the pillow.

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I dialed the numbers carefully. Willow picked up on the first ring.

"Oh, thank goodness," she cried out when I told her that Buffy had been here. "I was so worried. We all were! What is she doing? Where is she now?"

"Downstairs," I replied, a hint of annoyance in my voice. "She came over here to apologize, and she did. I let her take a shower because she was soaking wet and cold to the bone, and now she's downstairs drinking tea."

"You're upstairs?" Willow's confused voice broke in. "Why?"

I glanced down at myself. I had put the blue shirt back on, but it was still unbuttoned. "She caught me off guard. I was... singing."

The surprise in her voice was evident. "Something I'm sure she didn't know about."

I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. "She bloody well looked like she was about to swoon."

"Swoon?" Willow choked out, trying desperately to cover her laughter. "Oh, Giles."

"I'm quite serious," I sputtered, haphazardly buttoning the buttons on my shirt before I could go downstairs. "It's almost seven now. I'll feed her and drive her home later. I want to have a few moments with her first."

"Whatever," Willow said softly. "I'm just glad you two made up. I never heard you fight that bad before."

"You heard it too, hmm," I sighed, switching the phone to the other shoulder so I could button the set near my collarbone. "Well, I'll talk to you later then. Goodbye now." I tapped the off button and turned to the guitar, now sitting in its case, locked. I pushed it back into my closet, hoping I could bury it.

I walked down the stairs slowly, trying to figure out what I could say. I finally decided to tell her about my phone conversation. "I called and talked to Willow. She was dying to know where you were. I said you were safe and-"

The words died on my lips as I saw her sound asleep on my sofa. She looked like an angel, laying there, her head on the pillow, curled up like a child. I smiled and took the afghan from the back and gently draped it across her. She was probably exhausted from the night before. Not to mention the long walk.

I walked back into the kitchen, turning on the radio. Soft, mellow jazz played out. I opened my cabinet and put away the teabags I'd used earlier. I stepped back to the living room and lifted the book she'd knocked over and sat in my armchair and began to read.

It wasn't two hours later when I heard a loud rumble outside my door. I glanced up as something pounded on my door. I stood up and walked quickly over to it, pulling the door open.

To see the bleached blonde on the other side, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. "Spike, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"You told me to come by tonight," he said in a bored tone, shoving the helmet at me. He took in my rumpled clothing and anxious expression and glanced past me. Then his eyes widened as he caught sight of what I knew had to be Buffy, sitting up on the sofa and stretching. "I guess I must have misunderstood," he continued, his voice almost singsong as Buffy made her way to the door, dressed in my shiny silver shirt. "Hello, Buffy."

She didn't say anything, just stared at him with a critical eye. Except for a white bandage covering his left hand, he appeared to be in one piece. She turned to me almost impatiently. "I should be getting back home soon."

"Well, then the Watcher can show you his new riding skills," Spike countered. "I've been giving him motorcycle lessons since I acquired a few from the one-horned demon attacks."

I arched my eyebrows and turned to see how Buffy would take the news. She remained silent, a soft smile spreading across her face. She turned to me, a hint of laughter in her voice. "You ride?"

"We all do," I replied. "Except for Willow and Tara. They provide the real wheels. We use the bikes."

She seemed really surprised, until she turned back to Spike. He was leering at us. "Well, if you're busy, I can come back at a later time." He placed such an emphasis on the word 'busy' I felt offended. I was nonetheless surprised when Buffy reached across and took my arm and tucked hers inside.

"We are quite busy, Spike," she replied in a breathy, loving tone, glancing down provocatively.

His eyes widened, as did mine as I tried to look endearingly at her, but it was difficult. He just stood there, his jaw around his hips, shaking his head. "I don't believe it."

"Believe it," I finally managed to gasp out, reaching for her hand.

He kept shaking his head, finally handing me the helmut and walking away, talking about the most disturbing things. I turned to Buffy in surprise. She was staring after Spike, a supercilious expression of glee on her face. "Did you see that?"

"I did," I replied in a mellow voice. She turned to me, a question in her eyes I didn't quite follow. Instead of trying to pursue it further, I took her arm again. "Let's get you home. We'll take the car tonight."

She nodded silently and followed me out.