Giles flicked on the light as he ushered Buffy into his apartment. "Here we are. I'll fetch some blankets for the couch."
Buffy watched as Giles rummaged in the linen closet. "I bled all over the other ones, huh? Maybe we should burn them."
"I'm sure I can wash them." Giles was still bent over the closet.
"No. Give them to me, I'll buy you some new ones. I'd prefer to burn the others. It's safer."
"Why?" Giles gave her an exasperated look. "I'm tired, Buffy. Make your point."
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Slayer's blood. All kinds of magic can be done with it. I don't wish to be careless. If anyone is going to perform magic with my blood, it will be me."
Giles knew she was right, but didn't like it. "Fine then. If you say so, I'll sacrifice my sheets." Buffy rewarded him with a satisfied smile. "So your friend Spike showed me some interesting sketches of yours."
Buffy flopped on the couch. "Oh? Did you like them?"
"Frankly, they're marvelous. I had no idea you were such a talented artist. The one of Oz is amazing."
"I'm proud of that one. I have an oil painting based on it at the mansion. I plan to give it to Willow for her birthday. There's one of you that's better." Buffy reached in her purse for the album.
"I saw it. The profile."
"No. Here." Buffy handed Giles the album, open to his picture. He was poised at his desk, glasses in hand. His tie was loose at his throat, and he was laughing. The laugh started at the corners of his mouth and followed his face up to his eyes. "My favorite miniature of you. I've made several copies, if you want it."
"That's astounding Buffy. When did you learn this?"
"Over the summer." Buffy reached into the album, pulling another miniature from a pocket in the back of it. "I've meant to give this to you. What should have been." It was a picture of Giles embracing Jenny Calendar, each looking lovingly at the other. "I can't bring myself to make a painting of it, but if you want one, I will. I do have a small painting of Jenny, but it's just her face. What she looked like when she was teaching. If you want it, I'll bring it over."
Giles cleared his throat. "That's quite all right. This is sufficient. May I?" He reached for the album.
Buffy handed it over. "Be my guest. Can I take a shower? I've got vamp dust in my hair. It itches."
"Certainly. I hadn't noticed." "If Spike was telling the truth, I wouldn't," Giles thought to himself. "Buffy, may I see that ring?"
"This one?" Buffy placed her hand in his, pointing to an ornately worked gold ring on her left ring finger. "Or this one?" It was the ring Spike had described, resting on her right pinky, a plain band with a clear green stone, roughly a carat, on it.
"Emerald?"
"No. Diamond."
"Really? I've never seen a green one before." Giles studied it closely, but could not detect any hint of magic within it. Not any magic he was familiar with. "Can you remove it?"
Buffy searched his eyes, uncomfortable. "If I wish. I do not."
"Who gave it to you?"
"Jasmine."
"So Spike wasn't lying to me. It is a charm of sorts. I thought he was taunting me. Showing me pictures and talking about the ring."
Buffy graced him with a smile. "Oh, I'm sure Will was taunting you. He does that."
"So the ring confers a glamour."
"I suppose. That's not the word I know for it. It's called a par-kash-tahn. It confers, as you say, a tal-marat. I've no idea how to translate that to English."
Giles looked at her sharply. "So I should hit the books. Research it."
"If you wish. It's written like this." Buffy grabbed a piece of paper and swiftly wrote five symbols on it. "There you go. Par-kash-tahn." She wrote seven more symbols on page. "Tal-marat. The closest I can think of for this word is running. Marat means clean running water, like in a brook. You know, over stones, so you cannot perceive clearly what is underneath. Tal is related to the word talran which is used to refer to springs or a source of power."
"I don't recognize the language."
"You wouldn't. It's not well-known in this dimension. Will and I are probably the only ones fluent in it here."
"Buffy, remove the ring, I insist."
"Giles, I have vamp dust in my hair! Let me have a shower and clean up, and then if you wish, I'll remove the ring and you can see the pure unadulterated me. I warn you though, once you've seen me without the ring, the tal-marat doesn't have the same power. It breaks the connection to the talran in a way that cannot be restored. I'll always appear as I am, not what you might wish me to be. You will lose all of your power, and I will lose none of mine."
Buffy returned twenty minutes later wearing sweats and a blue tank top and toweling her wet hair. Giles was brewing tea in the kitchen. "Thanks. The shower was great."
"Tea?" Giles handed her a mug and placed sugar and milk before her, attempting to encourage her with a smile. He noted that the tattoo was still absent from her shoulder. "If I see you without the ring, will the mark of Eyghon appear?"
"Yes, and all my other tattoos and battle scars as well. And unless I remember consciously to conceal them, you will see them every time they are exposed. Of course, I choose to conceal them most of the time when the ring is on. But you would be able to see past the illusion easily."
"I've seen all your scars before you got the ring. I've patched most of them. And you don't have any tattoos."
Buffy winked lasciviously. "Sorry to shatter your illusions, watcher mine. Of course I do. In all sorts of interesting places. But most of them are covered by my clothes."
Giles left the kitchen and sat at the dining room table. It was covered in Merrick's diaries and several demonology tomes. He picked one up. "This is the fourth diary. It took him that long to figure out that you don't fit the mold and appreciate the privilege of being your watcher."
"Four, huh? How many watcher's diaries for you?"
Giles sipped his tea. "I never thought you would fit the mold. Didn't bother me in the least. Tell me about
Jasmine. Can I see her in you without you removing the ring?"
"I am Jasmine. Jasmine is part of me, I am part of her. I don't know how to show her to you in the way you mean. Her portrait is here." She flipped to the picture Spike had showed him of the smiling woman. "Rose was her daughter. There's Rose at about four, there's Rose as a grown woman, twenty or so."
"Can I meet her?"
Buffy shook her head sadly. "Jasmine's dead. Cancer. We tried everything, but there was no saving her. She was so very young, maybe forty at most. She was in so much pain." Buffy wiped her eyes with her napkin. "Perhaps this would show something of Jasmine to you. At least by her absence." She pulled at the ornate gold band on her ring finger. "I'm not sure what difference you'll see if I do this. But this ring has a spell on it as well. But there are three souls sealed in this ring. Not just Jasmine, but Hans and Andrew as well." She removed the ring and Giles studied her closely. Buffy's presence seemed smaller, a certain glow fell away from her features. Buffy looked older, her eyes taking on an odd ageless quality, as if a lost old woman peered through her young face. "Do you see a difference? I've only removed this ring when a new soul is added to it. The custom is to hide your face during that process. I've no clue how the ring's removal affects my outward appearance."
"Yes, there is a difference. I see it."
"All their memories of me are sealed within this ring. I see myself through their eyes, not my own. I hardly know myself without the ring. May I put it back on, please?" The ancient eyes in Buffy's face pleaded at him.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I had no idea removing it would cause you pain." The ring was quickly replaced and Buffy's visage returned to its normal appearance. Giles thought he could almost see the mischievous twinkle in Jasmine's eyes from the sketch shining through Buffy's face. He finally made a connection in the puzzle that Buffy had laid before him. "You spent your summer trapped in a demon dimension."
"Some of it. Most of it was in L.A. as I told you before."
"And Spike found you there."
Buffy nodded. "Yes."
"How long?"
"Here, or there? Here it was just a few days, a week at most. I know I missed four days of work. Took a lot of fast talking to get my job back at the diner. Lorne gave me my bartending job back immediately, no questions asked."
"And there?"
"Time is different there. As measured there, over a century. Nearly four generations. I saw friends die and their great-grandchildren born. As time is measured here? Maybe eighty years or so. Will arrived and spent the last fifteen years there with me, until Jasmine died. When Rose was grown and married, we left."
"So the ring, it's a binding ring."
"A wedding ring, a par-lahk-shar. It makes no difference there if you marry a woman or a man, the process is the same. The ring is a pledge of sorts, that you will always remember who you are to the other. Their thoughts are forever with you. But in a very literal sense. If you have a fight, their hurt becomes your own. If you lose a spouse, and remarry, the ring is used for the next marriage as well. There is no divorce, you either marry for a year and a day or for life. The par-lahk-shar is for life bonds." Buffy was curled in the chair opposite Giles' at the tablet, her arms wrapped around her knees. She pulled at a chain on her neck, which Giles saw from beneath the glamour for the first time. "See here, this is Hans' ring, and Andrew's, and Jasmine's. All my memories of my life with them are within. If I wish to relive a day, or a week, I only have to put it on a finger, and I return to it. But I get the good with the bad."
"And if someone else puts it on?"
"It's a bit overwhelming. I put Jasmine's every once in a while. It's hard, because it contains her husband's memories of their first marriage. Very weird to see her through another person's eyes. I can't control the images as easily. They sort of flurry by. But Hans and Andrew, I was their only wife, so only my memories of them are there. They are as I remember them. You wish to see?"
"That seems very personal, your memories of another person."
"It was a long time ago. It's easier if you use the tash. It makes it like watching a movie. That's how I access Jasmine's ring. Gives me a bit of distance. But Hans or Andrew, you could probably handle it. Just remember, it's my memories, not theirs, so I'd be making love to them, not the other way around. It's a strange perspective. Of course, I could let you wear mine, but I think you'd find that even stranger, someone else's memories of me, and three people all at once. And I don't think I can bear to take it off again."
Giles studied the three rings, considering. "Has Spike tried it?"
"No, won't work, requires a soul. Will has no interest in a soul. But it would work for you."
"How long does it take? Will I be in thrall all night?"
"Oh, no. Only minutes. Let me think." Buffy shook her head, "I don't know, you choose. This one belonged to Hans, that one's Andrew's. Andrew was a scholar, you might prefer that one."
"Oh, really? And what was Hans?"
"Smith. I was weapons master at the keep; he made the weapons." Buffy giggled, "But he was a lot of fun. We had a great life together. Not much fighting. Andrew, however, he was a lot like you, always getting exasperated with me. We would get in these stupid little tiffs. You'd think I'd learned enough from him to avoid arguing with you. The making up part was always grand. Perhaps we need to try some making up. The fights are stupid if you never make up. I could always feel Andrew's hurts, I can't feel yours." Buffy's face took on a thoughtful look. "Perhaps I should make you a par-lahk-shar, it's a simple enough process. I could make two. I don't have to bind you to this one, it's just the custom, not necessity. If you didn't like it, we could take them off."
"Very well, I'll try Andrew's."
Buffy removed the chain from around her neck, removing Andrew's simple white band and handing it to Giles. She reached for her purse, which was lying on the dining table, and pulled out a joint and the lighter. She lit the joint, taking a small puff. A moment later, she visibly relaxed. She then passed it to Giles. "Try this, it will make it easier. Don't try to control the images, just let them float by."
Giles drank in smoke from the burning cigarette, feeling as though a door had opened within his mind. The aches and pains that usually accompanied his daily life swiftly disappeared and he felt twenty years younger. Returning the joint, he placed the ring on his ring finger, and felt his heart leap with joy as he gazed into the face of the slender, dark-haired man who sat upon his knees in front of him. Images and feelings flooded by as, through Buffy's eyes, he felt her admiration for the young man's appearance and her lusty emotions as he lay naked and ready for her in their bed. Time passed, and there were images of them, heads together, in a large library, studying books in a language he had never seen. He felt his, or Buffy's, critical eye on him as they parried in a large room floored with straw mats that had swords and staffs upon the wall. He felt Buffy's heart fill with dread as the same man passed her a scroll with an ornate seal. He watched, transfixed, as the man let Buffy into a room where an old woman lay sleeping beside a tiny child, and her hands silently placed a rope about each of their necks, the woman and the sleeping child, and strangled them in turn. Another image floated by, as he stared at the man's smiling face as Buffy gasped for air and yelled, heart filled with relief as a tiny male child emerged from her body squalling. The man stood patiently behind her as she hefted a large axe over her head, and brought it down upon the necks of an unending line of men and women. He felt her pride and joy as a man in a red turban poured water on the feet, hands, and face of not one, but two tiny naked girls. He felt warmth and comfort as she lay sobbing in the arms of the same man in the bed they had made love in so many times. Images of the man, and Buffy's longing for him at many ages – young, middle aged with a receding hairline, and old, white hair falling to his shoulders, the same love and desire never wavered for this man. Laughing at the same man as a small girl, maybe four years old in a blue dress stood on his feet, dancing, as an identical girl jumped up and down, trying to distract them. Another image, he was flying through a crowd of exotically clad men and women as they danced to a quick tune. The final image was of holding the same beloved man in her arms, feeling nothing but gratitude as Buffy's hands silently stroked the long white hair as he drew his last shuddering breath. The thrall then broke. He looked up to see Buffy's face, serene except for the tears streaming from her eyes.
"You loved him."
"God, yes."
"And every day, he wore that ring knowing how much you loved and admired him?"
"Until the moment he died. He never once removed it."
"What a precious gift. He was a lucky man."
Buffy shook her head sadly. "The privilege was all mine. I was unworthy of such a good, kind man."
"I'm sure he felt unworthy of you."
"Silly man, he did. I never convinced him otherwise. It's here." She pointed at the ring on her finger. "But we had a good life together in a difficult time. Three children that survived to adulthood. And gave us grandchildren. He was so proud of them." She smiled then, through her tears, holding her hand out to have the ring returned. "Fifty-three years. And he loved me every moment of them."
Giles pushed back from the table, not knowing what to make of the flurry of images still racing through his mind, now fading. He felt overwhelmed with envy for this man who had commanded the undivided heart of his slayer for so many years. "And you can give yourself to a killer like Spike after knowing the love of this man?"
"Spike kills to eat, to survive. I have killed for less reason than that."
"He feels no remorse," Giles reminded her gently.
"Do I? Does it matter? Dead is dead."
"He cannot possibly love you."
"I'm an old woman, Giles. I've known love, I can live without it now. He cares for me, in his way. I don't delude myself, but we have an understanding." Buffy reached out and squeezed Giles' hand, "Perhaps acceptance has more value than love. He knows what I am and accepts."
"Surely you are worthy of more than that. I hope I give you more than that."
"Giles, it doesn't matter. You will forget what I have shown you. It's not possible to hold on to another's memories. By tomorrow, they will have passed away. You do not know me, and you do not need to. I am nothing but a tool in your hands, to wield as it pleases you."
Giles shook his head to attempt to clear the haze that filled his mind. He suspected that it was an aftereffect of the tash. "No, you are more than that."
"To protect, to serve, to obey. A warrior's oath. That is a slayer's duty. I will perform it until one of us is dead, then I shall end my service to the Council. I will not serve another after you. There are other slayers."
"What do you want from me, Buffy?"
"I require nothing from you, Giles. Except perhaps some sleep." A thoughtful looked passed over her face. "I always told my students to treat their weapons with respect and care. I told my captains to treat their guardsmen with courtesy and kindness. The power lies with the handler, not the tool. Perhaps that advice applies here. Use your power with care." With that, Buffy left the table and headed for the sofa, leaving a dumbfounded Giles contemplating his half-empty cup of cold tea.
-------
"He loves me, he loves me not." Buffy pulled white petals off the daisy, dropping them into the grass as she counted off the chant. "Do you love me, Giles?"
"Of course, my dear. Do you ever doubt it?" Giles propped himself up on an elbow reaching for the fruit that lay on a plate between them. "You are easy to love. So lovely." He traced the outline of her face with a strawberry he had plucked from the plate, then fed it to her.
"I wish..." Buffy didn't finish the sentence, instead choosing to pluck another daisy from the grass.
"You wish what, love?"
"I wish you would read to me. I love your voice."
"I hope you love more than my voice."
"There is nothing in you that I do not love, Giles. You hold my heart in your hands." Buffy brushed a kiss across his lips and ruffled his hair. "Now, read to me, lover." She handed him the book and Giles began reading of Harry Potter's arrival Charing Cross station and his meeting the Weasley family. As the Hogwart's Express rolled through the English countryside, Buffy interrupted him. "Is England so very beautiful?"
"It's lovely. We must go, someday. Would you like to?"
"Oh, yes. I want to see the moors, walk all over them with you. Visit some old castles. See their gardens."
"Then we shall. It's time we paid the Council a visit, I'm sure they'd pay our passage."
"Sounds fun, carry on." Buffy waved her hand to indicate that Giles should continue reading. As Giles recounted the arrival of Hermione to the coach where Ron and Harry were snacking, Buffy drifted off into a contented slumber, resting her head on Giles' shoulder.
"Wake up, Slayer." Buffy awoke, seeing Merrick's bearded face. "We must be going." He offered her his hand, and Buffy rose from the bed where she was sleeping.
"Where?" Buffy glanced about, not recognizing her surroundings. "Where am I?"
Merrick placed an arm around Buffy's shoulder. "That's not important. The Council wishes to make an example of you."
"Why? I'm no one."
"Correct. You betrayed me, and now, now you are nothing." Buffy felt the knife enter her chest, piercing her heart and stared at him in shock as her blood flowed from her.
"Merrick!" Buffy screamed, waking herself up. "Crap. Not again." Buffy ran from the sofa to the bathroom, arriving at the toilet just in the nick of time. "I hate this." She reached for the toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and began brushing the taste from her mouth.
She heard Giles call from outside the bathroom door. "Buffy? Are you all right?"
"Peachy." Buffy exited the bathroom. "I guess I'll be going now." She slipped on her sneaker clogs and grabbed her jacket from the rack by the door.
"Buffy, it's four in the morning!"
"Good, Will will still be awake. Bye, Giles."
Giles grabbed her by the arm as she reached for the door. "You're not leaving. What happened? Another dream?"
Buffy pried Giles' fingers from her arm. "I'll see you later."
"The hell you will!" Giles placed his arm on the door, slamming it shut. "What is wrong with you?"
"Please don't do this." Buffy stared him down. "Just let me go."
"Did you dream about him? Or did you dream about me? Why run to him if I'm the problem?" Giles leaned against the door, trying to dissuade her.
"I'm the problem, and you are not the solution, Giles."
"And I'm certain Spike is an excellent solution to all your difficulties."
"He'll do in a pinch."
"Why won't you let me help you? What do you need, Buffy? Just tell me." Giles was bewildered by Buffy's sudden need to escape him. "Quit running away from your problems."
"I'm leaving your apartment, Giles. I am not, repeat not, running away from my problems."
"That's right, you're running straight to your problem. One." He held up a finger. "That monster."
Buffy zipped her jacket and pulled the hood up. "Will is not my problem, Giles. He's yours. I don't have a problem with him."
"What can he possibly give you that I can't?"
"Fuck you."
"Well, that about sums it up, doesn't it? Why did you come back, anyway?"
"This is getting us nowhere, drop it."
"What are you going to do when you get there? Talk to him? Ask for his advice? Tell him you dream of me?"
"That's none of your business."
Giles rolled his eyes. "So you're going over there to screw him."
"To put it crudely, yes. Among other things."
"And this will solve your problem."
"Why not? I'm not getting any more sleep tonight. And I'm hungry. There's food there. Food and entertainment is of the good."
Giles pointed at the kitchen. "There's food here. Help yourself. What would you like? Eggs? Bacon? Leftover scones? Tomatoes? I can make you a proper English breakfast, if you like."
Buffy turned green and made a face. "No, thanks. I'll pass."
"So you're lying. You're not hungry." Giles folded his hands across his bare chest. "You just want to get laid."
"I'm not lying. I'm hungry. And I can 'get laid', as you put it, other places. I'm sure Xander would be more than willing if I crawled into his bed."
"I'll give you a ride. Let me fetch my keys. But I think Cordy would have a problem with that, come Monday."
"Tough shit. I. Don't. Want. Xander."
"Language, Buffy," Giles chided. "I see that Spike has done wonders for your English."
"Will and I rarely speak in English. You can thank HBO for my language."
"That's right, you're too busy doing other things with your mouth, I'm sure."
"Now that's just plain gross, Giles." Buffy slid down the wall, resigned to staying. "We rarely speak English because he can speak Taur-kan. And I've spoken it longer now than English. It's a much more precise language. I really don't want to fight with you."
"And I have no desire to argue with you. I'm sorry I said that. I want to help." He held out his hand to her.
"Though I must admit, I'm still reeling from yesterday's revelations."
"Don't worry, they'll fade. You'll forget everything in a day or so. Nice side effect of the tash. It can wipe out two full days of memories. But you didn't have that much."
"I don't want to forget, Buffy." Giles studied her face closely, "Will you forget?"
"No. Tash doesn't have the same effect on me. I wish it did. I forget nothing. In fact, I remember too well."
"Last night, I remember you saying that you and Andrew would fight. That fighting wasn't worth it if nothing was resolved. How did you resolve things?"
Buffy groaned. "It's not the same. We had the par-lahk-shar, fights stopped pretty quickly, before they got personal. He wouldn't hurt me so much. Too painful to fight. Besides, he was my husband, he loved me."
"And I don't?" Giles pulled Buffy off the floor, cupping her face in his hands. "What makes you think I don't love you every bit as much as he did? What makes you think I don't hurt when I see you hurting?"
"It's not the same. You barely know me. We're practically strangers."
"How can you say that?"
"It's the truth."
"Come here." Giles pulled Buffy into his embrace. "I want to know. I want to know everything. I want to understand what I saw last night in the ring. Tell me. Show me. Help me to understand you."
"You will hate me. Just let me be what you want me to be."
"Is not possible for me to hate you. Nothing you could do would make me hate you. Will you take off the ring? Does it hurt you to take it off?"
"The par-kash-tahn? No. It doesn't hurt to take it off. But I'd rather not. Not in front of you."
"You take it off in front of Lorne. Why not me?"
"Lorne asked me to take it off – made his head hurt seeing me double. He could see through the illusion. He has no preconceived notions of what I should be. Plus, the moment I opened my mouth, he could tell I had changed."
"What do you mean?"
"The ring, it shows you what you expect to see. What you want to see of me. If you were to drop all expectations of what I am, as if you'd never seen me before, then you would see me as I am. It has no power."
Giles sat on the couch, examining his slayer. "Very well. Let me try that. Will you remove any concealment you have in place on your end?"
"Yes." Buffy thought for a second, and Giles saw the mark of Eyghon appear on her shoulder, and several scars appeared on her exposed midsection that had not been there before, as well as an ornate tattoo which encircled her arm, written in symbols of the language that she had shown Giles the previous night. "See anything different?"
"Yes, the Eyghon tattoo, some scars on your belly, and a tattoo on your left arm."
Buffy gave him a rueful smirk. "Slayer healing doesn't help with stretch marks. They ain't pretty, are they?"
"Those must be the scars Spike prefers not to see."
"Oh, he doesn't care about those. He doesn't like this one." She pulled the top of her tank down low to the edge of her breast, exposing a ragged scar of a cut that had sliced her breast from the breastbone to her armpit. "Or these." She turned her back to Giles, removing her shirt. There were crisscrossed whip marks from her neck to the top of her pants. "Seen enough, Giles?" She moved to put her shirt back on before turning back Giles.
Giles schooled his face to hide his dismay. "Are there more?"
"Plenty. Just under my clothes."
"Wait a moment." Giles closed his eyes taking a few moments to clear his head of any expectations he might have of Buffy's appearance. He opened them, and gazed upon his slayer as if seeing her for the first time. Buffy stood before him, as Spike said, much thinner than he would have ever expected her to be. Every muscle on her body stood out in relief. All of the fat that usually lay under her skin had dissipated, leaving muscle striations and veins visible. Her skin was paper white, almost as white as a vampire's. Her tank top, which had hugged her lovely curves suggestively a moment before, was now loose and baggy over a skeletal frame. He studied her face and her blue-grey eyes flashed with a hint of yellow, as if a vampire lay just beneath the surface. He could see Spike's mark upon her throat, covering the one left by the Master. Buffy stood there, fingering the rings on the chain about her throat, chewing her bottom lip, looking nervous.
"Can you see?"
"Enough." Giles took a deep breath. "I had no idea." Buffy's image flickered before him, he could not hold on to the reality of the changes. She returned to the healthy tanned California girl he was accustomed to seeing when he looked at her. Only Spike's mark remained, mocking him. He couldn't forget it.
"You couldn't possibly. Now you know why I don't want to remove the ring in front of you."
"The ring has remarkable powers."
Buffy shrugged. "I suppose. Couldn't very well come back looking like that."
"Does anyone else know?"
"Oz. You know him, he sees right through it. I can tell. Course, he doesn't say a thing. Just gives me these Oz looks."
Giles chuckled under his breath. "He would, wouldn't he?" He pulled Buffy towards him, trying to see if she felt different. But the illusion held as he touched her creamy tanned skin and examined her carefully.
"Amazing. Touching you doesn't break the illusion. I can't even sense the magic in the ring." He kissed her forehead. "I'd like to think you are healthier than that, Buffy. But, you are still beautiful, either way. All strength." Giles stroked her hair, pulling her into a tight embrace. "All love."
"You sweet, kind man. But I don't need your pity." Buffy straightened up, putting on her armor, and stepping away. "As for my health, it's improving. I get a little stronger each day. But the stress of the charade and the nightmares, it wears on me. I need space to be just me. Will can give me that."
"I can give you that. I don't want you to hide from me. Not here. Don't leave, please." Giles pulled her back to him, snuggling his beloved slayer against his bare chest. "Come, let's see if you can get some more rest in the bed. I'll give you a back rub. That is, if it doesn't hurt you."
"No, it won't hurt. It would be nice." Buffy quietly followed him to his room.
Buffy watched as Giles rummaged in the linen closet. "I bled all over the other ones, huh? Maybe we should burn them."
"I'm sure I can wash them." Giles was still bent over the closet.
"No. Give them to me, I'll buy you some new ones. I'd prefer to burn the others. It's safer."
"Why?" Giles gave her an exasperated look. "I'm tired, Buffy. Make your point."
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Slayer's blood. All kinds of magic can be done with it. I don't wish to be careless. If anyone is going to perform magic with my blood, it will be me."
Giles knew she was right, but didn't like it. "Fine then. If you say so, I'll sacrifice my sheets." Buffy rewarded him with a satisfied smile. "So your friend Spike showed me some interesting sketches of yours."
Buffy flopped on the couch. "Oh? Did you like them?"
"Frankly, they're marvelous. I had no idea you were such a talented artist. The one of Oz is amazing."
"I'm proud of that one. I have an oil painting based on it at the mansion. I plan to give it to Willow for her birthday. There's one of you that's better." Buffy reached in her purse for the album.
"I saw it. The profile."
"No. Here." Buffy handed Giles the album, open to his picture. He was poised at his desk, glasses in hand. His tie was loose at his throat, and he was laughing. The laugh started at the corners of his mouth and followed his face up to his eyes. "My favorite miniature of you. I've made several copies, if you want it."
"That's astounding Buffy. When did you learn this?"
"Over the summer." Buffy reached into the album, pulling another miniature from a pocket in the back of it. "I've meant to give this to you. What should have been." It was a picture of Giles embracing Jenny Calendar, each looking lovingly at the other. "I can't bring myself to make a painting of it, but if you want one, I will. I do have a small painting of Jenny, but it's just her face. What she looked like when she was teaching. If you want it, I'll bring it over."
Giles cleared his throat. "That's quite all right. This is sufficient. May I?" He reached for the album.
Buffy handed it over. "Be my guest. Can I take a shower? I've got vamp dust in my hair. It itches."
"Certainly. I hadn't noticed." "If Spike was telling the truth, I wouldn't," Giles thought to himself. "Buffy, may I see that ring?"
"This one?" Buffy placed her hand in his, pointing to an ornately worked gold ring on her left ring finger. "Or this one?" It was the ring Spike had described, resting on her right pinky, a plain band with a clear green stone, roughly a carat, on it.
"Emerald?"
"No. Diamond."
"Really? I've never seen a green one before." Giles studied it closely, but could not detect any hint of magic within it. Not any magic he was familiar with. "Can you remove it?"
Buffy searched his eyes, uncomfortable. "If I wish. I do not."
"Who gave it to you?"
"Jasmine."
"So Spike wasn't lying to me. It is a charm of sorts. I thought he was taunting me. Showing me pictures and talking about the ring."
Buffy graced him with a smile. "Oh, I'm sure Will was taunting you. He does that."
"So the ring confers a glamour."
"I suppose. That's not the word I know for it. It's called a par-kash-tahn. It confers, as you say, a tal-marat. I've no idea how to translate that to English."
Giles looked at her sharply. "So I should hit the books. Research it."
"If you wish. It's written like this." Buffy grabbed a piece of paper and swiftly wrote five symbols on it. "There you go. Par-kash-tahn." She wrote seven more symbols on page. "Tal-marat. The closest I can think of for this word is running. Marat means clean running water, like in a brook. You know, over stones, so you cannot perceive clearly what is underneath. Tal is related to the word talran which is used to refer to springs or a source of power."
"I don't recognize the language."
"You wouldn't. It's not well-known in this dimension. Will and I are probably the only ones fluent in it here."
"Buffy, remove the ring, I insist."
"Giles, I have vamp dust in my hair! Let me have a shower and clean up, and then if you wish, I'll remove the ring and you can see the pure unadulterated me. I warn you though, once you've seen me without the ring, the tal-marat doesn't have the same power. It breaks the connection to the talran in a way that cannot be restored. I'll always appear as I am, not what you might wish me to be. You will lose all of your power, and I will lose none of mine."
Buffy returned twenty minutes later wearing sweats and a blue tank top and toweling her wet hair. Giles was brewing tea in the kitchen. "Thanks. The shower was great."
"Tea?" Giles handed her a mug and placed sugar and milk before her, attempting to encourage her with a smile. He noted that the tattoo was still absent from her shoulder. "If I see you without the ring, will the mark of Eyghon appear?"
"Yes, and all my other tattoos and battle scars as well. And unless I remember consciously to conceal them, you will see them every time they are exposed. Of course, I choose to conceal them most of the time when the ring is on. But you would be able to see past the illusion easily."
"I've seen all your scars before you got the ring. I've patched most of them. And you don't have any tattoos."
Buffy winked lasciviously. "Sorry to shatter your illusions, watcher mine. Of course I do. In all sorts of interesting places. But most of them are covered by my clothes."
Giles left the kitchen and sat at the dining room table. It was covered in Merrick's diaries and several demonology tomes. He picked one up. "This is the fourth diary. It took him that long to figure out that you don't fit the mold and appreciate the privilege of being your watcher."
"Four, huh? How many watcher's diaries for you?"
Giles sipped his tea. "I never thought you would fit the mold. Didn't bother me in the least. Tell me about
Jasmine. Can I see her in you without you removing the ring?"
"I am Jasmine. Jasmine is part of me, I am part of her. I don't know how to show her to you in the way you mean. Her portrait is here." She flipped to the picture Spike had showed him of the smiling woman. "Rose was her daughter. There's Rose at about four, there's Rose as a grown woman, twenty or so."
"Can I meet her?"
Buffy shook her head sadly. "Jasmine's dead. Cancer. We tried everything, but there was no saving her. She was so very young, maybe forty at most. She was in so much pain." Buffy wiped her eyes with her napkin. "Perhaps this would show something of Jasmine to you. At least by her absence." She pulled at the ornate gold band on her ring finger. "I'm not sure what difference you'll see if I do this. But this ring has a spell on it as well. But there are three souls sealed in this ring. Not just Jasmine, but Hans and Andrew as well." She removed the ring and Giles studied her closely. Buffy's presence seemed smaller, a certain glow fell away from her features. Buffy looked older, her eyes taking on an odd ageless quality, as if a lost old woman peered through her young face. "Do you see a difference? I've only removed this ring when a new soul is added to it. The custom is to hide your face during that process. I've no clue how the ring's removal affects my outward appearance."
"Yes, there is a difference. I see it."
"All their memories of me are sealed within this ring. I see myself through their eyes, not my own. I hardly know myself without the ring. May I put it back on, please?" The ancient eyes in Buffy's face pleaded at him.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I had no idea removing it would cause you pain." The ring was quickly replaced and Buffy's visage returned to its normal appearance. Giles thought he could almost see the mischievous twinkle in Jasmine's eyes from the sketch shining through Buffy's face. He finally made a connection in the puzzle that Buffy had laid before him. "You spent your summer trapped in a demon dimension."
"Some of it. Most of it was in L.A. as I told you before."
"And Spike found you there."
Buffy nodded. "Yes."
"How long?"
"Here, or there? Here it was just a few days, a week at most. I know I missed four days of work. Took a lot of fast talking to get my job back at the diner. Lorne gave me my bartending job back immediately, no questions asked."
"And there?"
"Time is different there. As measured there, over a century. Nearly four generations. I saw friends die and their great-grandchildren born. As time is measured here? Maybe eighty years or so. Will arrived and spent the last fifteen years there with me, until Jasmine died. When Rose was grown and married, we left."
"So the ring, it's a binding ring."
"A wedding ring, a par-lahk-shar. It makes no difference there if you marry a woman or a man, the process is the same. The ring is a pledge of sorts, that you will always remember who you are to the other. Their thoughts are forever with you. But in a very literal sense. If you have a fight, their hurt becomes your own. If you lose a spouse, and remarry, the ring is used for the next marriage as well. There is no divorce, you either marry for a year and a day or for life. The par-lahk-shar is for life bonds." Buffy was curled in the chair opposite Giles' at the tablet, her arms wrapped around her knees. She pulled at a chain on her neck, which Giles saw from beneath the glamour for the first time. "See here, this is Hans' ring, and Andrew's, and Jasmine's. All my memories of my life with them are within. If I wish to relive a day, or a week, I only have to put it on a finger, and I return to it. But I get the good with the bad."
"And if someone else puts it on?"
"It's a bit overwhelming. I put Jasmine's every once in a while. It's hard, because it contains her husband's memories of their first marriage. Very weird to see her through another person's eyes. I can't control the images as easily. They sort of flurry by. But Hans and Andrew, I was their only wife, so only my memories of them are there. They are as I remember them. You wish to see?"
"That seems very personal, your memories of another person."
"It was a long time ago. It's easier if you use the tash. It makes it like watching a movie. That's how I access Jasmine's ring. Gives me a bit of distance. But Hans or Andrew, you could probably handle it. Just remember, it's my memories, not theirs, so I'd be making love to them, not the other way around. It's a strange perspective. Of course, I could let you wear mine, but I think you'd find that even stranger, someone else's memories of me, and three people all at once. And I don't think I can bear to take it off again."
Giles studied the three rings, considering. "Has Spike tried it?"
"No, won't work, requires a soul. Will has no interest in a soul. But it would work for you."
"How long does it take? Will I be in thrall all night?"
"Oh, no. Only minutes. Let me think." Buffy shook her head, "I don't know, you choose. This one belonged to Hans, that one's Andrew's. Andrew was a scholar, you might prefer that one."
"Oh, really? And what was Hans?"
"Smith. I was weapons master at the keep; he made the weapons." Buffy giggled, "But he was a lot of fun. We had a great life together. Not much fighting. Andrew, however, he was a lot like you, always getting exasperated with me. We would get in these stupid little tiffs. You'd think I'd learned enough from him to avoid arguing with you. The making up part was always grand. Perhaps we need to try some making up. The fights are stupid if you never make up. I could always feel Andrew's hurts, I can't feel yours." Buffy's face took on a thoughtful look. "Perhaps I should make you a par-lahk-shar, it's a simple enough process. I could make two. I don't have to bind you to this one, it's just the custom, not necessity. If you didn't like it, we could take them off."
"Very well, I'll try Andrew's."
Buffy removed the chain from around her neck, removing Andrew's simple white band and handing it to Giles. She reached for her purse, which was lying on the dining table, and pulled out a joint and the lighter. She lit the joint, taking a small puff. A moment later, she visibly relaxed. She then passed it to Giles. "Try this, it will make it easier. Don't try to control the images, just let them float by."
Giles drank in smoke from the burning cigarette, feeling as though a door had opened within his mind. The aches and pains that usually accompanied his daily life swiftly disappeared and he felt twenty years younger. Returning the joint, he placed the ring on his ring finger, and felt his heart leap with joy as he gazed into the face of the slender, dark-haired man who sat upon his knees in front of him. Images and feelings flooded by as, through Buffy's eyes, he felt her admiration for the young man's appearance and her lusty emotions as he lay naked and ready for her in their bed. Time passed, and there were images of them, heads together, in a large library, studying books in a language he had never seen. He felt his, or Buffy's, critical eye on him as they parried in a large room floored with straw mats that had swords and staffs upon the wall. He felt Buffy's heart fill with dread as the same man passed her a scroll with an ornate seal. He watched, transfixed, as the man let Buffy into a room where an old woman lay sleeping beside a tiny child, and her hands silently placed a rope about each of their necks, the woman and the sleeping child, and strangled them in turn. Another image floated by, as he stared at the man's smiling face as Buffy gasped for air and yelled, heart filled with relief as a tiny male child emerged from her body squalling. The man stood patiently behind her as she hefted a large axe over her head, and brought it down upon the necks of an unending line of men and women. He felt her pride and joy as a man in a red turban poured water on the feet, hands, and face of not one, but two tiny naked girls. He felt warmth and comfort as she lay sobbing in the arms of the same man in the bed they had made love in so many times. Images of the man, and Buffy's longing for him at many ages – young, middle aged with a receding hairline, and old, white hair falling to his shoulders, the same love and desire never wavered for this man. Laughing at the same man as a small girl, maybe four years old in a blue dress stood on his feet, dancing, as an identical girl jumped up and down, trying to distract them. Another image, he was flying through a crowd of exotically clad men and women as they danced to a quick tune. The final image was of holding the same beloved man in her arms, feeling nothing but gratitude as Buffy's hands silently stroked the long white hair as he drew his last shuddering breath. The thrall then broke. He looked up to see Buffy's face, serene except for the tears streaming from her eyes.
"You loved him."
"God, yes."
"And every day, he wore that ring knowing how much you loved and admired him?"
"Until the moment he died. He never once removed it."
"What a precious gift. He was a lucky man."
Buffy shook her head sadly. "The privilege was all mine. I was unworthy of such a good, kind man."
"I'm sure he felt unworthy of you."
"Silly man, he did. I never convinced him otherwise. It's here." She pointed at the ring on her finger. "But we had a good life together in a difficult time. Three children that survived to adulthood. And gave us grandchildren. He was so proud of them." She smiled then, through her tears, holding her hand out to have the ring returned. "Fifty-three years. And he loved me every moment of them."
Giles pushed back from the table, not knowing what to make of the flurry of images still racing through his mind, now fading. He felt overwhelmed with envy for this man who had commanded the undivided heart of his slayer for so many years. "And you can give yourself to a killer like Spike after knowing the love of this man?"
"Spike kills to eat, to survive. I have killed for less reason than that."
"He feels no remorse," Giles reminded her gently.
"Do I? Does it matter? Dead is dead."
"He cannot possibly love you."
"I'm an old woman, Giles. I've known love, I can live without it now. He cares for me, in his way. I don't delude myself, but we have an understanding." Buffy reached out and squeezed Giles' hand, "Perhaps acceptance has more value than love. He knows what I am and accepts."
"Surely you are worthy of more than that. I hope I give you more than that."
"Giles, it doesn't matter. You will forget what I have shown you. It's not possible to hold on to another's memories. By tomorrow, they will have passed away. You do not know me, and you do not need to. I am nothing but a tool in your hands, to wield as it pleases you."
Giles shook his head to attempt to clear the haze that filled his mind. He suspected that it was an aftereffect of the tash. "No, you are more than that."
"To protect, to serve, to obey. A warrior's oath. That is a slayer's duty. I will perform it until one of us is dead, then I shall end my service to the Council. I will not serve another after you. There are other slayers."
"What do you want from me, Buffy?"
"I require nothing from you, Giles. Except perhaps some sleep." A thoughtful looked passed over her face. "I always told my students to treat their weapons with respect and care. I told my captains to treat their guardsmen with courtesy and kindness. The power lies with the handler, not the tool. Perhaps that advice applies here. Use your power with care." With that, Buffy left the table and headed for the sofa, leaving a dumbfounded Giles contemplating his half-empty cup of cold tea.
-------
"He loves me, he loves me not." Buffy pulled white petals off the daisy, dropping them into the grass as she counted off the chant. "Do you love me, Giles?"
"Of course, my dear. Do you ever doubt it?" Giles propped himself up on an elbow reaching for the fruit that lay on a plate between them. "You are easy to love. So lovely." He traced the outline of her face with a strawberry he had plucked from the plate, then fed it to her.
"I wish..." Buffy didn't finish the sentence, instead choosing to pluck another daisy from the grass.
"You wish what, love?"
"I wish you would read to me. I love your voice."
"I hope you love more than my voice."
"There is nothing in you that I do not love, Giles. You hold my heart in your hands." Buffy brushed a kiss across his lips and ruffled his hair. "Now, read to me, lover." She handed him the book and Giles began reading of Harry Potter's arrival Charing Cross station and his meeting the Weasley family. As the Hogwart's Express rolled through the English countryside, Buffy interrupted him. "Is England so very beautiful?"
"It's lovely. We must go, someday. Would you like to?"
"Oh, yes. I want to see the moors, walk all over them with you. Visit some old castles. See their gardens."
"Then we shall. It's time we paid the Council a visit, I'm sure they'd pay our passage."
"Sounds fun, carry on." Buffy waved her hand to indicate that Giles should continue reading. As Giles recounted the arrival of Hermione to the coach where Ron and Harry were snacking, Buffy drifted off into a contented slumber, resting her head on Giles' shoulder.
"Wake up, Slayer." Buffy awoke, seeing Merrick's bearded face. "We must be going." He offered her his hand, and Buffy rose from the bed where she was sleeping.
"Where?" Buffy glanced about, not recognizing her surroundings. "Where am I?"
Merrick placed an arm around Buffy's shoulder. "That's not important. The Council wishes to make an example of you."
"Why? I'm no one."
"Correct. You betrayed me, and now, now you are nothing." Buffy felt the knife enter her chest, piercing her heart and stared at him in shock as her blood flowed from her.
"Merrick!" Buffy screamed, waking herself up. "Crap. Not again." Buffy ran from the sofa to the bathroom, arriving at the toilet just in the nick of time. "I hate this." She reached for the toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and began brushing the taste from her mouth.
She heard Giles call from outside the bathroom door. "Buffy? Are you all right?"
"Peachy." Buffy exited the bathroom. "I guess I'll be going now." She slipped on her sneaker clogs and grabbed her jacket from the rack by the door.
"Buffy, it's four in the morning!"
"Good, Will will still be awake. Bye, Giles."
Giles grabbed her by the arm as she reached for the door. "You're not leaving. What happened? Another dream?"
Buffy pried Giles' fingers from her arm. "I'll see you later."
"The hell you will!" Giles placed his arm on the door, slamming it shut. "What is wrong with you?"
"Please don't do this." Buffy stared him down. "Just let me go."
"Did you dream about him? Or did you dream about me? Why run to him if I'm the problem?" Giles leaned against the door, trying to dissuade her.
"I'm the problem, and you are not the solution, Giles."
"And I'm certain Spike is an excellent solution to all your difficulties."
"He'll do in a pinch."
"Why won't you let me help you? What do you need, Buffy? Just tell me." Giles was bewildered by Buffy's sudden need to escape him. "Quit running away from your problems."
"I'm leaving your apartment, Giles. I am not, repeat not, running away from my problems."
"That's right, you're running straight to your problem. One." He held up a finger. "That monster."
Buffy zipped her jacket and pulled the hood up. "Will is not my problem, Giles. He's yours. I don't have a problem with him."
"What can he possibly give you that I can't?"
"Fuck you."
"Well, that about sums it up, doesn't it? Why did you come back, anyway?"
"This is getting us nowhere, drop it."
"What are you going to do when you get there? Talk to him? Ask for his advice? Tell him you dream of me?"
"That's none of your business."
Giles rolled his eyes. "So you're going over there to screw him."
"To put it crudely, yes. Among other things."
"And this will solve your problem."
"Why not? I'm not getting any more sleep tonight. And I'm hungry. There's food there. Food and entertainment is of the good."
Giles pointed at the kitchen. "There's food here. Help yourself. What would you like? Eggs? Bacon? Leftover scones? Tomatoes? I can make you a proper English breakfast, if you like."
Buffy turned green and made a face. "No, thanks. I'll pass."
"So you're lying. You're not hungry." Giles folded his hands across his bare chest. "You just want to get laid."
"I'm not lying. I'm hungry. And I can 'get laid', as you put it, other places. I'm sure Xander would be more than willing if I crawled into his bed."
"I'll give you a ride. Let me fetch my keys. But I think Cordy would have a problem with that, come Monday."
"Tough shit. I. Don't. Want. Xander."
"Language, Buffy," Giles chided. "I see that Spike has done wonders for your English."
"Will and I rarely speak in English. You can thank HBO for my language."
"That's right, you're too busy doing other things with your mouth, I'm sure."
"Now that's just plain gross, Giles." Buffy slid down the wall, resigned to staying. "We rarely speak English because he can speak Taur-kan. And I've spoken it longer now than English. It's a much more precise language. I really don't want to fight with you."
"And I have no desire to argue with you. I'm sorry I said that. I want to help." He held out his hand to her.
"Though I must admit, I'm still reeling from yesterday's revelations."
"Don't worry, they'll fade. You'll forget everything in a day or so. Nice side effect of the tash. It can wipe out two full days of memories. But you didn't have that much."
"I don't want to forget, Buffy." Giles studied her face closely, "Will you forget?"
"No. Tash doesn't have the same effect on me. I wish it did. I forget nothing. In fact, I remember too well."
"Last night, I remember you saying that you and Andrew would fight. That fighting wasn't worth it if nothing was resolved. How did you resolve things?"
Buffy groaned. "It's not the same. We had the par-lahk-shar, fights stopped pretty quickly, before they got personal. He wouldn't hurt me so much. Too painful to fight. Besides, he was my husband, he loved me."
"And I don't?" Giles pulled Buffy off the floor, cupping her face in his hands. "What makes you think I don't love you every bit as much as he did? What makes you think I don't hurt when I see you hurting?"
"It's not the same. You barely know me. We're practically strangers."
"How can you say that?"
"It's the truth."
"Come here." Giles pulled Buffy into his embrace. "I want to know. I want to know everything. I want to understand what I saw last night in the ring. Tell me. Show me. Help me to understand you."
"You will hate me. Just let me be what you want me to be."
"Is not possible for me to hate you. Nothing you could do would make me hate you. Will you take off the ring? Does it hurt you to take it off?"
"The par-kash-tahn? No. It doesn't hurt to take it off. But I'd rather not. Not in front of you."
"You take it off in front of Lorne. Why not me?"
"Lorne asked me to take it off – made his head hurt seeing me double. He could see through the illusion. He has no preconceived notions of what I should be. Plus, the moment I opened my mouth, he could tell I had changed."
"What do you mean?"
"The ring, it shows you what you expect to see. What you want to see of me. If you were to drop all expectations of what I am, as if you'd never seen me before, then you would see me as I am. It has no power."
Giles sat on the couch, examining his slayer. "Very well. Let me try that. Will you remove any concealment you have in place on your end?"
"Yes." Buffy thought for a second, and Giles saw the mark of Eyghon appear on her shoulder, and several scars appeared on her exposed midsection that had not been there before, as well as an ornate tattoo which encircled her arm, written in symbols of the language that she had shown Giles the previous night. "See anything different?"
"Yes, the Eyghon tattoo, some scars on your belly, and a tattoo on your left arm."
Buffy gave him a rueful smirk. "Slayer healing doesn't help with stretch marks. They ain't pretty, are they?"
"Those must be the scars Spike prefers not to see."
"Oh, he doesn't care about those. He doesn't like this one." She pulled the top of her tank down low to the edge of her breast, exposing a ragged scar of a cut that had sliced her breast from the breastbone to her armpit. "Or these." She turned her back to Giles, removing her shirt. There were crisscrossed whip marks from her neck to the top of her pants. "Seen enough, Giles?" She moved to put her shirt back on before turning back Giles.
Giles schooled his face to hide his dismay. "Are there more?"
"Plenty. Just under my clothes."
"Wait a moment." Giles closed his eyes taking a few moments to clear his head of any expectations he might have of Buffy's appearance. He opened them, and gazed upon his slayer as if seeing her for the first time. Buffy stood before him, as Spike said, much thinner than he would have ever expected her to be. Every muscle on her body stood out in relief. All of the fat that usually lay under her skin had dissipated, leaving muscle striations and veins visible. Her skin was paper white, almost as white as a vampire's. Her tank top, which had hugged her lovely curves suggestively a moment before, was now loose and baggy over a skeletal frame. He studied her face and her blue-grey eyes flashed with a hint of yellow, as if a vampire lay just beneath the surface. He could see Spike's mark upon her throat, covering the one left by the Master. Buffy stood there, fingering the rings on the chain about her throat, chewing her bottom lip, looking nervous.
"Can you see?"
"Enough." Giles took a deep breath. "I had no idea." Buffy's image flickered before him, he could not hold on to the reality of the changes. She returned to the healthy tanned California girl he was accustomed to seeing when he looked at her. Only Spike's mark remained, mocking him. He couldn't forget it.
"You couldn't possibly. Now you know why I don't want to remove the ring in front of you."
"The ring has remarkable powers."
Buffy shrugged. "I suppose. Couldn't very well come back looking like that."
"Does anyone else know?"
"Oz. You know him, he sees right through it. I can tell. Course, he doesn't say a thing. Just gives me these Oz looks."
Giles chuckled under his breath. "He would, wouldn't he?" He pulled Buffy towards him, trying to see if she felt different. But the illusion held as he touched her creamy tanned skin and examined her carefully.
"Amazing. Touching you doesn't break the illusion. I can't even sense the magic in the ring." He kissed her forehead. "I'd like to think you are healthier than that, Buffy. But, you are still beautiful, either way. All strength." Giles stroked her hair, pulling her into a tight embrace. "All love."
"You sweet, kind man. But I don't need your pity." Buffy straightened up, putting on her armor, and stepping away. "As for my health, it's improving. I get a little stronger each day. But the stress of the charade and the nightmares, it wears on me. I need space to be just me. Will can give me that."
"I can give you that. I don't want you to hide from me. Not here. Don't leave, please." Giles pulled her back to him, snuggling his beloved slayer against his bare chest. "Come, let's see if you can get some more rest in the bed. I'll give you a back rub. That is, if it doesn't hurt you."
"No, it won't hurt. It would be nice." Buffy quietly followed him to his room.