When the door to the bathroom clicked shut, they turned to one another automatically.

Giles smiled down at Buffy wearily. “Whatever happens, remember that I will always love you.”

“You stole my line,” she teased, lifting her face to his.

The stolen kiss was tender but brief, Giles' exhausted legs beginning to wobble before they were done.

Buffy leaned into him supportively. “Tub or shower?”

Giles looked at Xander's bath, trying not to remember any of Anya's more unfortunate tales about it, and then at the shower.

“I'm not sure I could get up again if I sat down for too long…but a hot shower and a lot of soap…”

“Shower it is.” Buffy helped him to it and then hesitated. “You want me to turn around while you go first?”

They stared at each other silently for the longest time. Then Giles shook his head.

As if by silent assent, Buffy began unbuttoning his damp shirt. There, in the realm of civilization, it seemed a thousand times more intimate. Her hands shook as she struggled with each button, and not only because she was favouring one side more than the other. Finally, she drew the battered item off and dropped it on the floor. For all the time they'd spent in the river, in the bright bathroom light it was easy to see he was filthy. Buffy looked over her shoulder into Xander's shaving mirror. Then again, so was she. The stud on his still-wet jeans pulled undone as easily as always, and she pulled the zipper down slowly.

“Shoes,” she said softly and waited for him to kick off his boots before drawing the jeans off his hips so that he could step out of them. At that point she hesitated, unsure what to do next.

Giles moved then, taking hold of the equally damp tank top and drawing it gently over her head. Then he undid her soggy jeans and pushed them down a little.

Buffy kicked off her ruined sneakers and finished removing the pants, tossing them across to where his lay, aware that it wasn't a good idea for Giles to bend in any way at this point.

Their eyes locked as they hesitated once again. Buffy was about to reach for the faucets when Giles touch her arm. She dropped it to her side and he reached around her to unfasten her bra. He stopped, his eyes asking permission before slipping it off and throwing it on the pile of spoiled clothes.

Once again Buffy stood before him near naked, as she had back in the jungle, only this time she felt infinitely more vulnerable. He smiled reassuringly and she smiled back. After a beat she reached for the band of his boxers and drew them down over his narrow hips, pushed them down to his knees and straightened again. From there Giles, trying not to think about the caress of her skin against his, only had to move his legs a little to let them drop to the floor.

Then he was sliding his thumbs into the elastic of her g-string and pushing it down very slowly.

Buffy could feel herself trembling as the skin of his knuckles grazed her hips and her groin on the way down. And then they too were on the floor. When she could move again, she turned the faucets on in workmanlike fashion and adjusted the temperature, resisting the sigh of pleasure rising in her throat at the feel of actual hot water.

Then it was time to face him again.

“C-can you step over…?”

He nodded.

Buffy instinctively took his arm to help him balance as he lifted his left leg and stepped into the tub, and then wobbled on it as he lifted his right one. Once he was safely in, she followed.

Giles gave a hiss of pure pleasure as the hot water ran over his shoulders and Buffy echoed his sentiment in a low moan as it coursed over hers. When he put his head back to let it run through his hair, he swayed again, and Buffy swiftly slid her arms around his waist, partly to keep him from toppling over and partly because she needed to. As she rested her cheek against his chest, he circled her shoulders with a large arm and used his other hand to loosen her weather-battered hair so that the water could soak into it.

Buffy closed her eyes and smiled. The feel of his fingertips on her scalp was bliss and the feel of his warm body against hers…didn't bear thinking about just too much. A moment later she smiled again. Giles had picked up Xander's shampoo from it's resting place in the soap rack hooked on the faucets and was working it into her hair. He was leaning heavily against her now for support, but she didn't care. For long minutes she just lost herself in the physical pleasure of having her hair washed …

It was a long, slow, sometimes halting process for Giles to wash and rinse Buffy's long hair the two or three times needed to bring it back to its former cleanliness, but neither of them cared. The furthest Buffy moved away from him was to put her head back so that he could rinse, and the closest he came to letting her go was to reach down to pick up the conditioner.

When he was done, he kissed the top of her wet head and closed his arms around her, smiling as she nuzzled into his chest hair while the water continued to merrily cascade over her.

“You do know that the only thing holding me up at this point, is you?”

Buffy smiled into the firm torso. “Don't care.”

“And there's Xander's water bill…”

“He doesn't pay for water. It's in the lease,” she murmured.

“Good show. Buffy…I think I'm going to have to…Oh dear…”

Giles' legs gave out. Buffy eased him down until they were both sitting in the tub, under the shower, Buffy kneeling between his bent knees.

“Are you okay?”

He rested his brow on her shoulder. “Let's just say I've rather neglected the bed rest part of my recuperation, of late.”

They both giggled and then the giggle became giggles…lots of them.

“Let me do your hair,” she suggested between chuckles, glad he'd left the bottles on the side of the bath.

It didn't take anywhere near as long to do the several rinses required, and he seemed to enjoy the pampering and the special attention Buffy paid to massaging his scalp as much as she had enjoyed his ministrations earlier, rarely raising his head from her shoulder unless she asked him to lift it to wash out the rounds of shampoo. When he was finally done they were both very tired.

Buffy wearily picked up a ducky shaped soap and started lathering Giles' shoulders, back and chest, and then did her own body, before handing it to him.

He grudgingly lifted his head again to look at it.

“Wash,” she ordered. “I'm guessing you don't have the energy to shave, but the rest of you needs soap.” Then she grinned. “Unless you want me to tackle all those hard-to-reach places for you, I suggest you go to it.”

He snorted softly. If Buffy thought she was going to be exploring his nether regions with a cake of soap shaped like a cartoon duck… His eyes fluttered closed, then forced themselves open again, and his mouth quirked up on one side. He was almost asleep, but the notion of Buffy doing exactly that amused him enough to chuckle.

Buffy watched Giles struggle to stay awake, and slowly, painstakingly wash himself all over with the soap. When she was satisfied that he was done, she used all of her Slayer strength to get him back on his feet again without either of them slipping in the enamel tub.

“Just a little bit longer,” she told him soothingly, her shoulder, arm, and hip throbbing in time with her heartbeat now. “As soon as you're all rinsed off, we're out of here.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. The single word rang with the vehemence with which he hated being helpless.

It took them some time to successfully negotiate their way out of the tub, find clean towels in the cupboard under the vanity, and to dry each other, Giles noticing for the first time how difficult Buffy was finding it to use her right arm. It was obviously a great deal more painful than she was letting on. Which was not new. It was as though she felt guilty about who she was, about the fact that as bad as her injuries might be, in record time she would be healed and well again, while her friends were always consigned to heal the regular, tedious and frequently painful, way.

He worked very slowly, towelling her hair and wiping her shoulders and her back so that she wouldn't need to rotate her bad arm. And then it was his turn. Where Buffy could reach, she dried, particularly anything for which he would otherwise have to bend.

“I think we're done,” she finally announced then looked at the filthy pile of rags on the floor. “Except…I just realized…clothes: no got.” Then, through the fog of exhaustion, she remembered something.

It took some focusing to get her weary mind to concentrate on trying to touch Willow's. It was several moments before that familiar tickle and then Willow's mental equivalent of 'huh?'

A short time later the door was cracked open and a pair of Xander's jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers appeared first. Then came some training shorts and another of his sweatshirts.

“Sorry, Buffy,” Xander's rueful voice came from outside. “No girly things here any more.”

When they were finally dressed, Buffy helped Giles out of the bathroom.

Willow and Xander took one look at the rosy, but utterly exhausted, battered pair and made a decision.

Neither Buffy nor Giles were really aware of what was happening. All either of them knew was that they were being guided somewhere and that very shortly they were engulfed in a three-blanket quilt, heads sinking into soft pillows…and then nothing.

Xander and Willow stood watching them sleep.

“Together again, Will? And in my bed? I may be scarred for life.”

Willow smiled. “Look at them. Did you see them when they came out of the bathroom? They belong together. I think they always have. I know both of them are miserable without the other one…and they secretly hate it when someone shows an interest in one of them. Like Buffy with Miss Calendar, and, a-and then she was really jealous of Kendra…it was so cute…and then Faith said Giles was cute…she hated that. And I won't even mention Olivia. Buffy didn't shut up about her for a month after she found her in Giles' shirt in his apartment.”

“She found her in…why wasn't I told about this?” He demanded, miffed. “You mean, like, the shirt and nothing else?”

Willow nodded. “Why do you think she got all 'I can do this by myself' with the Sunday thing? She was so freaked out. Every time I thought she'd forgotten about it, something would make her start bitching again. Mostly about Olivia, but she picked on Giles' robe too. I liked that robe…”

“Wait. You've seen the robe? You've seen the robe *on* Giles? Again, why don't I know about this?”

Willow rolled her eyes. I was with Tara, just before, y'know, when Spike made us all crazy…just before Buffy had to fight Adam. I had to go back for my computer and he was sorta, well, hung-over, in a rumpled, sexy kinda way.”

Xander covered his face with his palm. “Giles and 'sexy' in the same sentence, again. Not going there. So not wanting to have this conversation.”

“You'll live. And they're safe, at last. C'mon, let's go tell Dawnie and Anya. We can ask Dawn if you can sleep in Buffy's bed tonight.”

Xander's hand dropped and his eyes lit up. “I get to sleep in the Buffster's boudoir?”

Willow gave him a tolerant glare, trying not to grin. “On second thoughts, you can sleep on the couch.”

“Hey…I nobly double my power bill for this quarter just from all the hot water they used, and I give up my sweet, sweet bed…and you want me to sleep on the Summers' couch? I know that couch. It has mystery bumps…”

“Giles sleeps on it all the time.”

“Giles…” he began, ready to launch into a diatribe about what the older man was willing to tolerate for the sake of his Slayer, then looked at his friends, safe and snug and once again filling the gaping hole they'd left in all their lives…and swallowed emotionally. “Okay, I'm good. Let's go.”

Buffy stirred very slowly, not really wanting to wake up. She was way, way too comfy. Eventually, though, the bathroom's call was just too loud and obnoxious. She opened her eyes…and panicked for a split second.

Panicked first about not knowing where she was, and second, that all of it… everything…might have been a dream. She turned to her left. Her eyes widened then smiled. Not a dream…

After that everything came into focus, including where they must be, helped by the large, framed picture of Anya on Xander's dresser. She turned back to Giles, who was looking marginally better. There was colour in his cheeks again, where you could see them through the stubbly beard, and a lot of the deep lines in his face were gone, along with the dark patches under his eyes.

Buffy slipped out as silently and carefully as she could. He needed the sleep. The clock on Xander's microwave said ten forty-two. Well, it had to be 'a.m' but *which* 'a.m.'? And why were they alone? She got the drink of water she'd gone into the kitchenette for, then headed for the bathroom. When she re-emerged it was still in contemplation of the bliss that was civilization. She was also contemplating a breakfast she didn't have to catch, kill or cook on an open fire, or eat off a leaf.

Two spoonfuls of 'Scooby Doo' breakfast cereal, however, sent her back to the refrigerator looking for something a little less diabetes-inducing. Besides, marshmallows were for hot chocolate, and cinnamon was something you put on hot donuts or churros, *not* in breakfast cereal.

Unfortunately, apart from the milk, which she'd almost emptied onto the cereal, some really sad looking apples, and a half-eaten TV dinner, it was pretty bare. The cupboards revealed popping corn, candy bars, potato chips, pretzels, instant coffee, and, weirdly, an unopened package of teabags…then finally, next to the toaster, an open package of pop tarts. Buffy was scared to look at the expiry date.

While she waited for one to heat up, she made coffee. Instant wasn't exactly what she'd been dreaming of, but the smell of it when she poured the boiling water onto the granules was utter bliss.

After the stale pop tart and as much of the instant coffee as she could tolerate, Buffy spent some time taming her now clean hair, rooted around Xander's drawers and wardrobe for some clothes that didn't look too horrible on her and put on her semi-destroyed sneakers, since Xander's shoes were almost clown-sized on her. Then she borrowed a card and some cash from Giles' wallet, which Xander had conveniently left on the dining table. He'd gone to get all their bits and pieces from the shelter while they'd struggled to dress, before Willow created the portal that brought them all home.

Giles woke to a delicious sensation. He was warm and incredibly comfortable, and someone was kissing him. He opened his eyes, then closed them again and kissed back.

When Buffy finally lifted her head she pecked him on the nose and straightened. “Good morning…I mean: afternoon, sleepy head.”

He opened his eyes again and smiled very slowly. “Then it's true. We're back and I really don't have to get up and cook you roast snake for breakfast?”

Buffy's nose screwed up. “You couldn't dream about anything more fun than that?” Then she smiled back at him. “I've got something for you.” As he drew himself up, a little shakily, into sitting position, she shoved all the pillows behind him for support.

Giles looked down at the tray she slid onto his lap, sniffed and sighed with loud approval.

“My God: real, brewed, 'English Breakfast' tea, jelly donuts…lovely. And where did you find those?” he asked, delighted at the pile of toasted and buttered English muffin splits, some with Giles' favourite: marmalade, on, some plain.

“I've been out. I owe you some money. I hope you don't mind. I wanted to spare you the Scooby-Doo breakfast cereal experience…and the stale pop-tart one too, actually. Besides, we, the carbohydrate-deprived, deserve a little spoilage.”

He looked her up and down, appreciating the sleeveless summer dress with its green on white print against her now very tanned skin and the white-sandalled foot curled up behind her as she sat on the bed.

“You've been home?”

She shook her head. “This is part of what I owe you. Xander didn't have a thing to fit me, or you, for that matter. I shopped a little. I hope you don't mind too much. I'll pay you back as soon as I can get to the bank.”

He took another look at her and shook his head. “How can I mind waking up to a vision like this?”

Buffy giggled. “I guess it's better than the vision you've had to wake up to for the last few weeks. They should make soap a national treasure or something.”

Giles chuckled and sipped blissfully at the steaming mug of tea as he systematically helped Buffy demolish the contents of the tray.

“What about you? How are your wounds today? I see most of the cuts and scratches have healed.”

Buffy shrugged and swallowed a chunk of donut. “My arm hurts, and my hip aches, but another couple days and I'll be all new again.” She leaned forward and rested a cool palm on his brow. “You're not so toasty today. Not back to normal yet, but not scary any more.”

His voice was dry. “Well that's very reassuring. I must say I feel far more human than I have in quite a while. Still tired, but fairly comfortable, which is quite a novelty given our circumstances of late.”

She smiled. “Amen. Soft bed, sugar fix, tea, coffee…soap…it's all good.”

He grinned back then looked into the eyes that were looking at him with such affection.

“What do you want to do?”

Buffy played with the last piece of muffin, understanding exactly what he meant. “I don't know yet. All I know is I want us to be…us. There are so many things to think about. I started thinking about it while I was buying you…while I was shopping. I never realized before how many things there are between us and…'us'.”

“I told you it was complicated,” he said gently, concealing the first stirrings of disappointment, with the ease of someone who's done it far too many times before.

Buffy swung the tray onto Xander's side table and crawled onto his lap. She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him very thoroughly before lifting her head, Giles even more reluctant than she was to part again.

“It's not complicated. It's as simple as that. Everything else is just…details. The only two things that matter to me are how Dawn feels about us and how you feel about stuff like staying here now, when Willow says you have a great place in England, and friends and a pony…”

“A horse, Buffy. A seventeen-hand hack, not a 'pony'” he pointed out stuffily.

“Sorry. My point is you have this other life that you made, or went back to…or something, that's really important to you.”

Giles reached out and caressed the newly brushed tresses back from her cheek. “There are a lot of things that are important to me…some a great deal more than others.”

She took a moment to assimilate that, and then smiled back at him. “What will happen to the p…um…horsie?”

“He will go back to boarding where I left him to come over here in the first place.”

Buffy did some rapid math. “That's a lot of his life without you in it.”

“Roughly two thirds of it so far,” he agreed. “But he's well cared at the stables. He's schooled and shown by others and there are several people, including both of them, who dote on him. He wants for nothing and will not, even if I have to leave him again.”

“You'd do that for me?”

“In a heartbeat, if it was the right thing to do.”

She made one of her famous pouting faces. “I can hear a 'but' in there.”

It made him smile a little. “Not really. I want to be with you, too, Buffy, but you have to be certain about what you want. There are so many issues, not least your feelings for Spike, and the likelihood that your sister is going to make Xander look positively understated when she finds out about us.”

Buffy closed her eyes. She had managed not to think about Spike for a long time. Now she had to face her feelings for the vampire whether she wanted to or not. She pulled a shopping receipt from her pocket and looked at the date: thirteenth of February. Great.

She looked up at Giles and her heart did one of its silly little dances when he focused that green gaze quizzically on her. She loved his eyes, loved the way they showed his emotions even when his face didn't, and she loved the small brown patch in the left one, that somehow made him uniquely Giles.

She owed it to him to be certain that the Spike thing was over. For the first time in her life she was really in love. She knew it, but she also know that her dark side was about as likely to just lie down as Willow's had been. Like she'd ever had complete control over it anyway, *not*… and it scared her, not least because Giles deserved so much more. In the past she might have just let it go and hoped for the best. She looked at the man in front of her. She couldn't do that to him again… not ever.

“You're right. I-I asked Spike…before we, before that patrol, to go to Diego's tomorrow…”

Giles looked nonplussed.

“Mexican food,” she explained awkwardly. “I still have to deal with what happened between us, and I thought if I could see him like that and it didn't mean anything, then it would finally, really, be over.”

“Do you still feel something for him?”

“I don't know,” she admitted honestly. “Before…it wasn't healthy. It was dark and twisted and violent and horrible…but that was both of us…not just him. A part of me understands him and a part of him understands me…the not so nice parts. I'm just not sure what that means, or if I can let go of the 'Evil Buffy monster' any more than Willow can really escape from 'Dark Scary Willow'. It scared me…it still does. I can't even look you in the eye and say 'it's not who I am any more' because, God help me, I just don't know.”

His face had grown shuttered, like it used to be, and his voice was very neutral.

“Then perhaps you should see him.”

The sound of Xander's front door rattling open ended the conversation.